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<\|description\|>Loreena Altera Age: 21 Bio: Loreena was the second child born to Harold and Tiana, a bit of a surprise so soon after the arrival of Annalise. She was a bit of the opposite of her elder sister, darker in hair and skin and also possessed a disdain for all things court related as she grew out of the nursery. She loved her books, often sneaking down into the library and reading long into the night. She devoured books like a starving man would a loaf of bread, and it was discovered that she possessed an eidetic memory, making her classes a breeze for her, though it seems like applying her knowledge to real life provided a challenge. Lore was also the first, and seemingly only, of her sister to show any skill in magic, swiftly coming under the tutelage of the royal mages. She is able to pick up a skill quickly, but mastering it takes time. Her most secret and ardent desire is to go on an adventure. To visit a far off land, to learn new magics from various teachers, and to write an adventure story of her own. For this reason, she is, perhaps, the most interested of her sisters in the plan their father laid out for them to marry one from a different kingdom. As long as he has books, or doesn't mind her building a library, and a sense of adventure, she will be content.</s> <\|message\|>Jinayah Altera "The sword?" Jin searched her mind for a suitable word in Prodzy, but she was coming up empty. Did the word not exist, or had she just forgotten? "Longsword." She finally said in Astalian. Switching back to Prodzy, she approached Vyarin carefully. After all, he did have a blade in his hand that he didn't know how to use. Sir Arnold had always beat it into their heads that an untrained novice was sometimes more dangerous than a trained professional. You had no idea what they could do. "Please to excuse." She gently gripped his hands and adjusted them on the hilt. "Better now." As far as she had read, Prodzy had plenty of weapons. So why was this one so curious to him? She would have to get with her sisters and ask them to translate better. Speaking of sisters – "Ah, wait! The Court of Flowers is waiting on us!" She looked down at herself. There was a bit of a mess on the very edges of her gown, but there was no time to change into another. Sighing softly and trying to rearrange her hair, she nodded to Vyarin. Briefly in Prodzy, she explained. "Come, follow!" Then she headed back inside, making sure Vyarin was somewhat behind her. With her short legs and his long ones, he could easily catch up. She led the way to the Court of Flowers, and paused once more before entering the area proper. There were going to be looks, she knew. But if they were to be her new brothers, and one a husband, they'd find out eventually. Best to discuss her proclivities on her own terms. Striding in with squared shoulders, Jin smiled warmly at all present. "Sorry I'm late. But I found one lost prince!" Seeing wine glasses already tabled (and some empty), she picked one up and took a sip. It was stronger than any they'd let her have before. Only a few years ago, they had been watering down her wine with meals. Was she suddenly such an adult now? Seeing Sulhana with that mischievous cat look on her face, and Annalise nearby, she went to Loreena instead. "Hi Lore. Having fun yet?" She curtsied briefly to Uriah as well. He wasn't royal, but his status garnered a lot of respect in her eyes. "I got… a little sidetracked. Do you think it'll be too noticeable?"</s> <\|message\|>Vyarin Kremazov The Court of Flowers was well named, Vyarin thought, as he lumbered into the moderately sized meeting hall, adorned with flowers hanging from baskets all along the walls and peeking up from long vases an entire two thirds his own height. Heads of red and gold, violet, white, even pale blue clear as the sky bowed in solemnity as the shamans do. If they had arms, perhaps they would be raised above their heads as well, until the lack of blood left them white and hard as the branches of trees. Perhaps these flowers as well were of a mystical nature? Many things were in this land of the southeast, far from the natural ebbing of the spirits. They weave the world with their 'sorcery', raising large works of stone tall as mountains such as the building within which he stood right now. Recalling his amazement as he passed under the gates, he recalled how the entire estate seemed to grow out of the ground. What a marvel it was! He imagined taking some of this sorcery home with him, and transforming the entire cityscape with its power. Would they remember him as Vyarin 'the Magnificent' for his effort? The others had arrived first, sharing conversation amongst themselves sat about a table. Golden chalices were displayed in some of their hands, filled with a dark liquid that looked unlike any juice he had ever had or seen. Some turned to meet his new, sprightlier acquaintance as she bounded in, which inevitably led their gaze towards himself. Whether they were looking or not, Vyarin gave a small and curt nod to the six others, then ambled over to a corner of the table and swiped one of the chalices, lifting the contents to his nose and sniffing. That's when he realized what it was. It was forbidden, he knew. The shamans said again and again, for as long as he could hear them. That which is rotted has been given to the spirits, and is beyond its time for the world of men. This was Essence of the Rotted Grape! He could have stumbled at the noxious odour. Did they not realize that by its imbibing they become cursed? Surely they must know better, he thought, glancing at the faces of these merrymakers. Mayhaps it would not be so bad, that they would enjoy it and fear naught. Things were different here, after all, in these lands of magic and mystery. If he were to one day take charge of their armies, he must then learn to live as they live, and if that meant drinking this product of rot, then he could do so without too much concern. The spirits would understand, he concluded, as he lifted the chalice again to his lips and sipped of the fluid. It was a mistake, in the end. Gasping and reeling, he sat the cup down with a too-loud clang. It tasted as foul as it smelled, too bitter and thick and somehow wrong on a level fundamental to his soul. He felt dirty, the dregs that remain swilling under his tongue. He leaned on the wall, whispering curses the sky in Prozdy, hoping nobody paid too much mind to his outburst.</s>	<\|message\|>Loreena Altera Loreena tilted her head to Lisse when her sister spoke of the Jördanian prince needing to be tested on his handling of liquor. Her eyes widened a little as she realized now what was going on. A drinking game! Lore herself rarely imbibed outside of a glass or so at dinner. She was always afraid of how it would make her behave, having heard the stories of people becoming angry and violent, of saying things they never meant nor remembered, and making fools of themselves by getting sick and clumsy. Nor did she know how it affected her ability to focus her magic. Until she had better control of her abilities, she feared what would result from any senselessness on her part. Such thoughts always worried Loreena, and as a result, she kept her wine consumption to a minimum. Lore was about to respond when Lisse turned to Uriah and asked if his student could be excused from a day of training. This made the smile fade just a little from Loreena's lips, and her gaze passed from Erick, to Lisse, to her mentor. The mage gave a deep, respectful bow to the crown princess as he was addressed. "Your majesty, as I told my pupil not long ago, I am no tattler. I am here to see to the magical welfare of charge. How you choose to celebrate this joyous occasion is not for me to judge. And as for being excused from lessons, the decision has always rested on Loreena's shoulders. I may always be found in the gardens in the mornings, and it has been your sister's decision to attend her tutelage as she pleases. That decision will always be hers to make." Lore's smile widened again and she cast a grateful look to the older man. "We shall see how the night progresses, Uriah. Thank you, my friend." Uriah smiled at Loreena and bowed once more to Lisse before returning to his musings. Loreena returned to the conversation previously with Erick. "I am honored that you chose to wear my jewel nonetheless, Erick. I chose each one in particular from the collection of gems and crystals that resonated with my magic. Although the Astalian blue topaz ended up being the strongest focus of my mage ability, this yellow chrysoberyl was of the purest clarity, and was a focus for me for a time. It still holds a bit of my power, a symbol of the bond you will share with our family." She heard the clatter at the entrance, and swung her head around to see the ruffled appearance of her youngest sister and the lost Prozdy prince. Judging from the flushed countenances, Vyarin had found Jiny's training yard! She watched as her younger sibling swiped a golden cup of wine. As Jiny approached, Lore embraced her warmly. "Feeling any better, dearest?" She queried, fixing a few errant locks of hair by swiftly removing a pin or two and giving the curls a deft twist and tuck. This relaxed the formerly prim and proper coif the maids had yanked Jiny's glorious hair into, and gave it the look of a lovely young woman who kept her hair away from her face as she wielded her sword. "Peace talks and alliances be damned. Sulhana and Lisse have officially declared war on our guests in the form of a drinking competition. Lisse has also bullied poor, old Uriah into being an accomplice to this affair..." she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "...and if ever there is going to be a night where father cannot insist you drink from the silver cups, tonight is the night." Loreena lifted her head when she heard Vyarin's....protests....against the wine. "Speaking of silver cups it seems..." She excused herself and walked over to a table, retrieving a silver cup, and approaching the man who was muttering angry sounding words in Prozdy. "Dro Vyarin? You are well?" She asked him, hoping he wasn't sick. "Gold cups hold Astalian..." She froze on the next word, struggling to remember. The tense and accent she would use could have a couple different meanings. "...Astalian 'old'...'brewed' grapes." She didn't know if she had used the right word. A glance to Uriah saw his back facing her, indicating she was on her own in this venture. Loreena had studied some language from the surrounding lands, mostly words pertaining to the history of magic in the various kingdoms. Prozdy was harsh for her to speak, the shape of her mouth would never let her pronounce the language perfectly, but she could converse a little. Offering the silver cup, Vyarin would see a golden amber colored liquid within. "Silver cups hold 'new'...'young' spiced apple." Lore hoped she was making sense to him. Looking to the others, she encouraged Vyarin to join closer to the group. "It seems Dro Vyarin will be the judge of the contest. We do need at least one person clear headed enough to determine a champion among this contest."</s>
<\|description\|>Loreena Altera Age: 21 Bio: Loreena was the second child born to Harold and Tiana, a bit of a surprise so soon after the arrival of Annalise. She was a bit of the opposite of her elder sister, darker in hair and skin and also possessed a disdain for all things court related as she grew out of the nursery. She loved her books, often sneaking down into the library and reading long into the night. She devoured books like a starving man would a loaf of bread, and it was discovered that she possessed an eidetic memory, making her classes a breeze for her, though it seems like applying her knowledge to real life provided a challenge. Lore was also the first, and seemingly only, of her sister to show any skill in magic, swiftly coming under the tutelage of the royal mages. She is able to pick up a skill quickly, but mastering it takes time. Her most secret and ardent desire is to go on an adventure. To visit a far off land, to learn new magics from various teachers, and to write an adventure story of her own. For this reason, she is, perhaps, the most interested of her sisters in the plan their father laid out for them to marry one from a different kingdom. As long as he has books, or doesn't mind her building a library, and a sense of adventure, she will be content.</s> <\|message\|>Jinayah Altera Jin relaxed considerably as Lore adjusted her hairstyle. Her sister's touch was very warm and soothing. It was so much nicer than when her ladies in waiting did it. They always made the bun too tight. "Much better, Lore. Thank you." She smiled widely and took a delicate sip of the wine. It was delicious, and quite powerful, and had a different scent entirely than what they usually had with dinner. Sulhana was always good at choosing that kind of thing. "A drinking contest, hm? I suppose I will join. Consider this my entry." While she had grown used to the nonalcoholic cider in the silver cups, today was apparently the day she became an adult. She took another careful sip of the wine and watched as Vyarin sputtered over his. What was that about? Was he going to be alright? Lore was already on it, so she turned her attention to Hana as she approached. "I wouldn't have run away. Not from this. I'm supposed to be the bravest of all of us, aren't I? So here I am." She chuckled as she was engulfed in a hug. There had always been a bit of the dramatic in Hana, spymaster or not. She had always been the one to make up stories as children. Her speaking of governesses and new-dress days with four less than earnest young ladies brought a sparkle to her eyes and a grin to her face. It had been simpler, yes. Much simpler. Jin actually lost composure and blushed when Sulhana mentioned the armor she had received. But she was surprised at her elder sister's advice. "You think I should have? Perhaps. Then the men would know what they're really working with, instead of… this." Sometimes the fancy gowns felt like lying. She approached Prince Gil, swept a curtsy and smiled. Before they could really get to talk, however, Hana announced that dinner was on the table. Despite her earlier nerves, the head-clearing workout from earlier had made her rather hungry now. It would be good to sit and eat.</s> <\|message\|>Gil Jalal --- --- Annalise's attention remained on Uriah as he spoke, basically confirming what she already knew. She smiled at the mage, giving him a nod before turning her attention back to her sister and Prince Erick who had started talking about Lore's gift to the man. The eldest daughter knew that of the four of them it was Lore who was far more interested in this deal than the rest of them. From what she had seen she was the most invested out of all the nobles gathered. Anna smiled at her sister as she spoke about the jewel gifted to the Prince beside her. Even she didn't know the little tidbit that her sister shared. When it came to magic most of it went over her head. As she was musing to herself in her head Jin entered the courtyard followed closely by the Prozdy prince. She was not surprised by her youngest sister's disheveled appearance. It was not the first time she had been late to an event in favor of her blades, and it certainly would not be the last. She was about to move toward Jin but Lore beat her to the punch. Ever the caring one she took to fixing Jin's hair and fussing over their younger sister. She did however chime in when Lore blamed her for the drinking competition. "Actually that was more Hana, and Prince Gil's decision. I was simply here and thought it sounded fun." She knew Lore and Jin were not the drinkers that Hana and herself were. Father often insisted that none of them partake in the wine or if they did that it be watered down, however, Hana was always rebellious, and Annalise had taken to drinking to prove that she was no different than any of the male members of the court. Not that it helped, she was still constantly fighting to be heard even though the country would be hers very soon. Her mind wandered to the suitors, and who of them would allow her to rule her country, who would stay out of her way. Gil, the third Prince who Hana had gathered had no interest in a position of power such as the ruler of a country seemed a good option. He however had carefully avoided talking to her since he had arrived at the courtyard. She was sure that in Gil's eyes, she was his last choice. She knew nothing of the elven Prince who had yet to arrive at the courtyard so she couldn't make any assumptions on him at this point. Erick seemed polite enough and he might be content to command Astalia's armies and remain out of the finer aspects of ruling the country. Though again, this was only speculation. Lastly was Prince Vyarin who was also more or less a wild card. She was sure that if she wanted to be underhanded about it she could use his limited knowledge of her language to her advantage for a while. She wasn't that manipulative though. She shook the thought out of her head as Hana approached them with Gil on her heels. At the mention of food her stomach growled, she hadn't had much to eat today, the nerves had gotten the better of her so any food in her system would be extremely welcomed at this point. She had almost missed what Erick had asked her, lost in her own thoughts. "Hm?" Was all that escaped her lips before her brain fully registered what he had said. She moved to take a seat across from him rather than directly beside him. It was a deliberate action, keeping openings for the other Princes to attempt to make a move, while still remaining close enough to Erick to still interact with him. She waited until Hana finished speaking to reply to his earlier statement and question. "Unfair you say? On whose side, mine or yours?" She cocked her eyebrow at him as her good eye looked directly into his, a very small smirk playing at her lip. "As for how I would test you, well that is simple, we must each finish the same amount of drinks by the end of the night, whoever holds their alcohol better is the winner. In other words, whoever is less drunk." She emphasized her point by finishing her own glass to make them equal. "If I win…" She paused to think. There were two ways she could do this, the light hearted way or more serious. After a moment she chose the more light hearted option. As much as she wanted to let him know that her country came first, now was not the time. "If I win, you have to tell me an embarrassing story from your childhood. And since we are declaring Price Vyarin the judge he will have final say on who is the winner. Of course you get to name your prize as well, within reason of course." The smirk was now prominent on her face as she carefully ate a bit of the food that was put in front of her, her stomach instantly reacting to finally being fed. Her attention moved to the entryway as the final member of this elaborate political game joined them. "Ah Prince Alvaro, happy you could join us. We were just about to eat, please, feel free to join us. Also if you are interested, we have some drinking games in place if you would like to partake." She motioned to the food and drink on the tables and also to the free seats. \| \| \| \| ______________________________________ \| \| --- Gil watched Sulhana as she spoke. He was about to respond when the youngest Princess and the Prozdy Prince entered the courtyard. His eyes traced over the pair. The large male appeared more than out of his element and the smaller female clearly disheveled. His curiosity peaked at the two of them. What exactly had they been doing beforehand? He didn't assume anything promiscuous but still, he wondered. He couldn't help but let out a chuckle when Sulhana mentioned him falling for her already. Though he didn't get a chance to respond before she was off to greet her sister finishing off her drink as she did so. He too finished his drink, not wanting her to get ahead of him and followed her. He did his best not to listen in on the conversation Sulhana had with her sister so instead he wandered off a bit to get himself another drink, returning just as Sulhana moved away to make a speech before offering food. He opened his mouth to greet Jin just as she started talking and closed it to allow her to speak. At the mention of food his stomach growled, realizing he had not eaten since before his arrival to the castle. He decided it was as good a time as any to get seated and get some food in his system, especially if he was going to be drinking heavily. He walked over to the table and pulled out a seat, offering it to Jin, more out of habit than anything else. "I could use some food, how about you?" He questioned the Princess politely. "Besides, if we are going to be drinking we should probably make sure we aren't doing so on an empty stomach." He smiled as he took his own seat, child-like excitement to eat some food, and hopefully taste some Astalian dishes. He hadn't even noticed the Elven Prince enter as he seated himself.</s> <\|message\|>Vyarin Kremazov Vyarin gratefully takes one of the silver cups, looking down into the well to see for himself. This did not look particularly different from the profaned drink of the gold cup, but an experimental sip told him that it was well and safe enough. Opposed to the chokingly bitter sample before, this was mild, sweet but with a spicy aftertaste. How did they manage that, he wondered? Did they crush apples into a chalice, and sprinkle in a dash of ground peppers? What an amazing culinary tradition this land of Astalia kept. His mind came alive with the most absurd things being served on a platter. Goat's livers covered in honey? Fresh honeygrass mixed in with fried horseflies? Entire frogs, stuffed full with stalks of raw grain? He was certainly willing to give them a try. "Let us go forth to glory," he sarcastically muttered in Prozdy, finally building up the courage to take a full swig from the spiced drink. It was a common phrase spoken before the consumption of a dinner. No man of the League would dare speak in the night preceding a battle. The various principalities that dotted the land were all unique in their own customs, but they all shared that much. The drink was strong with spice, so much so that he could feel particles of it scratch at his throat as it went down. It was powerful and uplifting, like the drink was made of fire, like it could fill him up with a fire's fury and he could raise fortresses with his own hands. Only guiltily afterwards did he realize he had taken the entire chalice in a single gulp, and was greedily eyeing another one. How unseemly of him, he thought to himself, pulling out a chair and joining the other heirlings as they gathered about the table, servants already melting away as they left behind them plates of resplendent, though disappointingly mundane-looking food. The other seven chatted eagerly amongst themselves, all they who were fluent in Astalian. Vyarin felt a frustration bordering on anger bubble up inside him. So long as he sat here, he was deaf in all the ways that matter. He imagined it to be not much different from wading into battle missing an arm. Perhaps he could pick up a word that appeared frequently enough. 'Wine, wine,' they said. That Astalian word appeared frequently, but he could not even begin to wonder what it could translate to. Was it marriage? That was their purpose coming here, after all. Perhaps they were speaking of arranging matches between themselves. Was it war? There are hushed mentions of a brewing war, greater than any skirmish between princes Vyarin would ever have seen, between this land and the great northern realm. He could not see any sign of worry on any other faces; they are mighty and stoic, these fellow heirlings, brave in the face of threat. What could this 'wine' possibly be?</s>	<\|message\|>Loreena Altera Seeing that Vyarin was back in sone assemblage of sorts, she withdrew a little. He had gotten the message, and seemed inclined to no further conversation with her, so she left him to his founderings. A soft sigh escaped her lips and as she saw Alvaro enter, she arranged her face in a smile and moved to intercept. A hand on her arm stilled her and she saw Uriah standing there. "You need not fuss over every single person here, child. It is not your duty." Loreena pressed her lips in a thin line. "I'm being obvious, aren't I?" "Excessively..." Uriah replied without preamble, ignoring the look of consternation from his charge. "Come, enjoy a meal." He offered his arm, beckoning Alvaro to have a seat and be served while he led Lore to a seat as well. The flowers Suly had planted glowed and shimmered like stars as they passed and the jewel on her neck glowed brightly a moment. A few murmured words had a golden chalice of wine lift from the tray held by a servant on the other side of the table and move steadily over the heads of the seated guests to her hand where she plucked it from the air and took a sip. Uriah smirked. "That's the Loreena I was waiting to see," he said quietly. Helping her to her seat, he withdrew some and sat nearby, as Sulhana made her grand speech. Lore lifted her chalice in a toast to Suly's words and to the assembled guests. "Hear hear, Sulhana! This morning we were strangers. Now we dine as friends. And may the days soon to come see us all as family!"</s>
<\|description\|>Alvaro image belongs to Heise Age: 19 Bio: Crown Prince of Lorien, Alvaro isn't like others around him. Though his father saw fit to ensure he was trained in the ways of magic and as a warrior to protect the Kingdom of Lorien, Alvaro always enjoyed the time spent with his mother and learning to listen to nature. Alvaro trained under his father's order until his body was broken, and even then he continued to hone his skill until he became the very thing his father wanted, a weapon. His mother's love kept him from being a vicious killer, not to mention his secret lover who leveled him out. Though kept a secret from his father, Alvaro's mother knew of his secret love with his father's most lethal warrior, Nairo. When the notice was received by his father to unite the Kingdoms via marriage with King Altera's daughter, his father was ecstatic, even though Alvaro's mother tried her best to talk her husband out of it, his word was final. Alvaro didn't want to disappoint either of his parents and sought only to bring peace to the land. After speaking with Nairo, he got his blessing to do what needed to be done. They shared an intimate night after the news to solidify their love. Sadly, Alvaro would leave and head to the Kingdom of Astalia, where he would live a lie for the sake of his kingdom and unity. Other: Alvaro is gay, but for the sake of his Kingdom, he will do what is necessary, at least he hopes he can.</s> <\|message\|>Jinayah Altera THWACK! From the back of the grand castle of Astalia, on the knights' target range, came the sturdy sound of an arrow hitting a target. Princess Jinayah, fourth and final in the line of succession, lowered her recurve bow and smiled. That arrow had hit dead center. Despite today being the end of her life as she knew it, her aim was as true as ever. That, at least, was comforting. With the smooth motion of a practiced archer, she nocked another arrow and let fly. The sea breeze hit it and it arced to the left, landing just to the side of her first shot. With a faint sigh, Jinayah lowered her weapon. She shut her eyes against the breeze and let it cool her. She'd been out since before the sun rose, and it was going to be a nice and warm day. Good weather for visitors. Visitors… It still made her stomach hurt to think of it. Slowly, she pulled the thick leather archery gloves from her hands, and sat herself against the cobblestone wall. She unclasped her rich plum purple cloak and folded it nearly across her arm. Perhaps if she started into the woods now, she'd be long gone before the foreign princes arrived. Even though the thought was extremely tempting, she would not abandon her sisters. They all had to stay strong. Even if they were going to lose what they valued most. Jinayah, for one, was going to miss these mornings. Nothing but the bow, the wind, and targets. Her father had been kind once, kind enough to have the crown tailors fashion her several sets of male clothes throughout her years. There had always been mutterings about her strange proclivities. When she had asked for a bow and to learn to use it, there had been complaints from various nobles. Luckily, her father heard none of them. The first day she showed up at the pages' practice area, confusion reigned. Jin had been seven then, just the same age as all the young boys hoping to make it to knighthood. However, there was one sympathizer – Knight Captain Theodore Arnold. He was the first person to treat Jin's wish seriously, and not as a passing fancy. He trained her day and night, helping to catch her up to the boys who had sword and bow as soon as they could walk. When she stumbled in last after a footrace, there had been laughter all around. When she smacked her face with the bowstring, there had been jeers. When she lost a swordfight, she was told to go back to her knitting. Nevertheless, she persisted. Jin put everything into her training. While her sisters learned needlepoint and singing and other "feminine arts", she practiced with the bow and blade. Soon, she could hit a target at 100 paces, dead center. Soon, she could win the footraces. Soon, no one could find a more graceful fighter. Soon enough, they all took the princess quite seriously. And now, all those years building up the respect and friendship of most of the young knights in the castle were all for naught. She would be leaving sooner or later, with her new husband. When the news reached the knights, they had thrown her a small party. She had cried, like a girl, to her own embarrassment. At the end of it, Sir Theodore gave her a custom set of armor. It fit her like a glove, and left her wondering just how much he'd had to bribe the royal tailors for her measurements. That was safely hidden in a secret groove in the stones behind her wardrobe. Hopefully she would get use of it before she had to leave for good. The sun was starting to peek over the trees now, and Jin knew her time was up. She headed back inside the palace slowly, taking several hidden routes that Sulhana had found ages ago. Still, her ladies in waiting were all… well, waiting for her when she entered her room. Also waiting was a steaming hot bath and the perfumed soaps she hated. Still, she was dunked in the bath and scrubbed clean. They clucked and fussed over her calluses and muscles, implying that her future husband would not find her soft enough for the night. She wasn't fully sure she cared. All too soon, she was headed downstairs to her father and sisters, in a gown the dusky pink of a rose, and about as soft. She smelled faintly of roses too, and the scent wrinkled her nose. She smoothed out her expression, and dipped into a low curtsy in front of her father and older sisters that had arrived. "Good morning."</s> <\|message\|>Loreena Altera Loreena had been up since the gray light of dawn. She knew it was Uriah's favorite time of day, before the sun illuminated the colors of the world, and life would begin to rouse and stir. The Court Mage would be found in the gardens at this hour, and Loreena herself was in the kitchen, warming a pot of tea for them. Today was a big day, the castle all in an flurry of preparation and excitement. Despite all of the pomp and circumstance, her teacher refused to release her from her lesson for the day. If she was to apply herself to magic, it needed to be a lifelong passion and pursuit. Loreena had shown no disappointment in his decision, despite his gruff mannerisms. Uriah had been her teacher and companion since she was 14 and her abilities had begun to manifest. He had tested all of the princesses as they came of age, but as of yet, only Lore had shown any aptitude for it. He had taken her education very seriously, and had done his best to impress on her the seriousness of the power she could wield. She had been an apt student, but magic was hard to master, and it had taken nearly a year for her just to find a focus she resonated with, and another half year after that before she could begin to weave the magic into the web of spells. Uriah had been infinitely patient with h, pushing her when she felt lazy or overconfident, and comforting her when she grew frustrated and discouraged. Through it all, he never lost his temper, was ever patient, and always emotionally solid. Lore brought the tray of tea out to the garden where he sat, meditating, preparing to greet the dawn. The older man smiled as he saw his young charge, gratefully accepting a cup of the steaming brew as the princess took a seat next to him. "A big day, milady. You meet a potential husband in a few hours. How does that make you feel?" The woman tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Nervous....excited....uncertain. I have never thought about a future with someone else. I don't know what to expect, nor if I should even expect anything at all. What if none like me? What if I make a mistake and embarrass my family? What if things don't work out?..." "And what if the sun turns purple and the birds swim and the fish fly...?" Uriah cut in, the absurdity of the statement bringing a smile to Loreena's face. He continued. "You have never needed anyone before, and you do not need anyone to continue. That being said, having a companion for your future can be a comforting and adventurous event. Yes, there is a business aspect to this, a chance for something strong and powerful to come of this, but you have a sensible mind and a romantic heart, milady. Do not waste it on someone who will not walk beside you as friend as well as lover." Loreena sipped her cup. "Is that why you never married, Uriah?" The older man chuckled. "I am married, child. To my work, to my learning, my teaching, and my magic. I love what I have learned, and I know it as intimately as any lover. I cannot expect everyone to walk the path I have, but I am content with my books. You, I sense, will not be content until you have filled volumes of books with your own stories. Now come, we will have your lesson early so you may be with your family when the guests arrive." A few hours later saw Loreena being the last of her sisters to enter the meeting room, Uriah in tow. "Sorry I'm late!" She said, bustling in, greeting each sister and their father with a kiss to the cheek before taking her place along with the others.</s>	<\|message\|>Alvaro "No matter what, I love you, but I must do this for my kingdom. I hope you understand." --- --- The wind whistled its beautiful melody through Alvaro's hair as he stood upon the balcony that overlooked the beautiful lush forest of Lorien. His eyes were closed as he felt the arms of his lover wrap around his midsection. The taller male's chin rested on Alvaro's shoulder as he continued to feel the breeze flow around them. "What is your plan?" "I don't know. This is all so stupid, but if it is my father's wishes how can I say no?" "Like this. NO." "Says the one who does everything he says." "Listen my love. No matter what, I will always love you and I will always support you, even if you have to go and frolic with some girl." "I know my love. I will make it up to you, I promise. I will find a way to do this without having to marry someone I don't love. I wish to marry you, to live as we do now without hindrance." "I won't stop you from doing what the King asks. You are the heir to his throne. You are the future leader of Lorien. I feel this will prepare you more to take the helm when your time comes, but for now, you're mine for the next hour." Alvaro turned to look his lover in the eyes as they shared a passionate kiss before returning to his chambers. He was set to leave that day to head to Astalia and he wanted to spend the last night with his love before marrying a princess he didn't love nor wanted to love. Alvaro and his lover spent the hour holding each other before Alvaro's guard knocked on the chamber doors to let him know the King was waiting. ---- The distance wasn't too great from Lorien to Astalia, but Alvaro had decided to only travel with two guards instead of an entourage. His father had tried to order him to take more, but Alvaro stood his ground and gave his father an order which seemed to surprise the older man, but Alvaro's mother had smiled and ushered him off with just two guards. Alvaro was capable of taking care of himself, no matter how much his father thought he needed protection. He had fought countless battles to defend his kingdom and was quite the warrior. What surprised him more is the guard that his father insisted go with him on this mission of ceremonial engagement. "Nairo, you have to promise that no matter what, you won't act out during the ceremony," Alvaro said sternly to his boyfriend of three years. "I promise, I'm just here to make sure you get there safe and besides, you know you love it." Their entourage of three approached the Kingdom of Astalia and as they approached, they saw the other princes that had come for the hands of the other princesses. Alvaro sighed and approached as the stable men took the horses they'd come on. Alvaro moved with supreme elegance and lowered his head to show respect to the princes of the other kingdoms. He carried with him an aura of light, and the wind seemed to blow in response to his presence. He held one hand behind his back as the other gripped a beautiful fan made of metal that could slice a man's throat with ease. He fanned himself lightly as he was led to the meeting area. There was no loud announcement of his coming, or anything except the guard of Astalia knowing of his arrival by vision alone. "It is an honor to be in the presence of the great King of Astalia and his daughters. I surely hope he will understand," Alvaro said to Nairo who stood beside him along with the other guard.</s>
<\|description\|>Gil Jalal Annalise Altera Age: 22 Bio: The eldest of the 4 daughters Annalise was born with some form of Albinism resulting in much lighter skin and hair than her parents. It was because of this that she was believed to have the ability to learn the art of magic. When she was old enough to learn one of the Court Mages attempted to train her in the art but it was quickly discovered that she was not able to practice the art. She has a very intense sense of duty to her father and her kingdom, while she does wish for her freedom to marry who she wanted, like her father did before her, she is willing to do what it takes to help her father and her home succeed. Other: Annalise was born blind in her right eye so she can be a little clumsy at times and lacks proper depth perception. Age: 19 Bio(optional): The 3rd son to the King of the Orc ruled desert Kingdom of Afdan. Personality: Despite his slightly brutish appearance Prince Gil is a respectable male with a kind heart. He often speaks softly and has a habit of hunching around those he does not wish to startle in an attempt to make himself look smaller. He is, however, aware that he does give off a certain appearance and his not afraid to use his larger stature to intimidate those he deems a threat. Other(optional): Aldar has been Gil's personal guard as well as teacher since he was old enough to wield a weapon. He is practically a second father to the prince. A young but gifted Shaman sent with Gil to tend to the Prince should he sustain any injuries as well as to allow fast communication between Gil and his father should it be needed. Long ago the Desert Country of Afdan was seemingly uninhabitable however the hearty Orcish race called these lands home. Many nomadic tribes existed within the country each filled with fierce warriors. Orc were viewed by the rest of the kingdoms as brutish and savage. In most cases they were correct. Many kingdoms took to exiling criminals, traitors, and deserters to the country, intending it to be a punishment. Those who were exiled here soon found out that though the Orcs of the country were indeed brutes, they were also willing to learn about the world outside of their own realm. The Orcs of Afdan accepted those who were exiled into their tribes so long as the individuals respected their rules and ways of life. Slowly as the tribes took on more people of all races a true country began to form. The dwarves brought with them knowledge of metal and ore, the humans agriculture and livestock, the elves magic. As the country grew it became a melting pot of many different cultures and the nomadic ways of the old Orcs, though not entirely gone, became less of a necessity and more of a way of distributing goods from one tribe to another. However each tribe still saw themselves as separate from the others, only trading among the others because it benefited them. Eventually, as with most new civilizations, a power struggle began, as each tribe, with their own Chief, began fighting for land and resources. After all, resources were few and far between in the desert. Simple squabbles became full blown wars until finally one of the Orc Chiefs, came up with an idea. The Chiefs of each tribe would fight in 1v1 battle against another, moving up the ranks as they won until only one was victorious. The winner would be made Chief of Chiefs and their tribe would become the new united nation's capital. All losing Chiefs would answer to the winner but still maintain their tribe. Any disputes on land and resources would be handled by the Chief of Chiefs and his word would be final. The official Kingdom of Afdan is a fairly new kingdom only about half a century old, still consisting of a variety of tribes, each with their own Chief who answers to the "Chief of Chiefs" or to other kingdoms, the "King" of Afdan. The Orc Dumag Jalal, the winner of "The Great Chief Battle" Became the ruler of this new Kingdom at the Young Age of 20. His human wife Daphne Jalal, the Queen, has been instrumental in assisting the tribes in coming together. The pair have 3 sons. Dumag Jalal II, 25, the eldest and heir to the throne. Uram Jalal, 23, the middle and commander of the Afdan army. Gil Jalal, 19, the youngest and the one who was sent to marry a Princess of the Astalian Kingdom.</s> <\|message\|>Loreena Altera Loreena had been up since the gray light of dawn. She knew it was Uriah's favorite time of day, before the sun illuminated the colors of the world, and life would begin to rouse and stir. The Court Mage would be found in the gardens at this hour, and Loreena herself was in the kitchen, warming a pot of tea for them. Today was a big day, the castle all in an flurry of preparation and excitement. Despite all of the pomp and circumstance, her teacher refused to release her from her lesson for the day. If she was to apply herself to magic, it needed to be a lifelong passion and pursuit. Loreena had shown no disappointment in his decision, despite his gruff mannerisms. Uriah had been her teacher and companion since she was 14 and her abilities had begun to manifest. He had tested all of the princesses as they came of age, but as of yet, only Lore had shown any aptitude for it. He had taken her education very seriously, and had done his best to impress on her the seriousness of the power she could wield. She had been an apt student, but magic was hard to master, and it had taken nearly a year for her just to find a focus she resonated with, and another half year after that before she could begin to weave the magic into the web of spells. Uriah had been infinitely patient with h, pushing her when she felt lazy or overconfident, and comforting her when she grew frustrated and discouraged. Through it all, he never lost his temper, was ever patient, and always emotionally solid. Lore brought the tray of tea out to the garden where he sat, meditating, preparing to greet the dawn. The older man smiled as he saw his young charge, gratefully accepting a cup of the steaming brew as the princess took a seat next to him. "A big day, milady. You meet a potential husband in a few hours. How does that make you feel?" The woman tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Nervous....excited....uncertain. I have never thought about a future with someone else. I don't know what to expect, nor if I should even expect anything at all. What if none like me? What if I make a mistake and embarrass my family? What if things don't work out?..." "And what if the sun turns purple and the birds swim and the fish fly...?" Uriah cut in, the absurdity of the statement bringing a smile to Loreena's face. He continued. "You have never needed anyone before, and you do not need anyone to continue. That being said, having a companion for your future can be a comforting and adventurous event. Yes, there is a business aspect to this, a chance for something strong and powerful to come of this, but you have a sensible mind and a romantic heart, milady. Do not waste it on someone who will not walk beside you as friend as well as lover." Loreena sipped her cup. "Is that why you never married, Uriah?" The older man chuckled. "I am married, child. To my work, to my learning, my teaching, and my magic. I love what I have learned, and I know it as intimately as any lover. I cannot expect everyone to walk the path I have, but I am content with my books. You, I sense, will not be content until you have filled volumes of books with your own stories. Now come, we will have your lesson early so you may be with your family when the guests arrive." A few hours later saw Loreena being the last of her sisters to enter the meeting room, Uriah in tow. "Sorry I'm late!" She said, bustling in, greeting each sister and their father with a kiss to the cheek before taking her place along with the others.</s> <\|message\|>Alvaro "No matter what, I love you, but I must do this for my kingdom. I hope you understand." --- --- The wind whistled its beautiful melody through Alvaro's hair as he stood upon the balcony that overlooked the beautiful lush forest of Lorien. His eyes were closed as he felt the arms of his lover wrap around his midsection. The taller male's chin rested on Alvaro's shoulder as he continued to feel the breeze flow around them. "What is your plan?" "I don't know. This is all so stupid, but if it is my father's wishes how can I say no?" "Like this. NO." "Says the one who does everything he says." "Listen my love. No matter what, I will always love you and I will always support you, even if you have to go and frolic with some girl." "I know my love. I will make it up to you, I promise. I will find a way to do this without having to marry someone I don't love. I wish to marry you, to live as we do now without hindrance." "I won't stop you from doing what the King asks. You are the heir to his throne. You are the future leader of Lorien. I feel this will prepare you more to take the helm when your time comes, but for now, you're mine for the next hour." Alvaro turned to look his lover in the eyes as they shared a passionate kiss before returning to his chambers. He was set to leave that day to head to Astalia and he wanted to spend the last night with his love before marrying a princess he didn't love nor wanted to love. Alvaro and his lover spent the hour holding each other before Alvaro's guard knocked on the chamber doors to let him know the King was waiting. ---- The distance wasn't too great from Lorien to Astalia, but Alvaro had decided to only travel with two guards instead of an entourage. His father had tried to order him to take more, but Alvaro stood his ground and gave his father an order which seemed to surprise the older man, but Alvaro's mother had smiled and ushered him off with just two guards. Alvaro was capable of taking care of himself, no matter how much his father thought he needed protection. He had fought countless battles to defend his kingdom and was quite the warrior. What surprised him more is the guard that his father insisted go with him on this mission of ceremonial engagement. "Nairo, you have to promise that no matter what, you won't act out during the ceremony," Alvaro said sternly to his boyfriend of three years. "I promise, I'm just here to make sure you get there safe and besides, you know you love it." Their entourage of three approached the Kingdom of Astalia and as they approached, they saw the other princes that had come for the hands of the other princesses. Alvaro sighed and approached as the stable men took the horses they'd come on. Alvaro moved with supreme elegance and lowered his head to show respect to the princes of the other kingdoms. He carried with him an aura of light, and the wind seemed to blow in response to his presence. He held one hand behind his back as the other gripped a beautiful fan made of metal that could slice a man's throat with ease. He fanned himself lightly as he was led to the meeting area. There was no loud announcement of his coming, or anything except the guard of Astalia knowing of his arrival by vision alone. "It is an honor to be in the presence of the great King of Astalia and his daughters. I surely hope he will understand," Alvaro said to Nairo who stood beside him along with the other guard.</s>	<\|message\|>Gil Jalal The journey from Afdan had been a decently uneventful one. People on the roads avoided the small group, which only consisted of the half-orc Prince, one large orcish guard, and a slightly smaller half -orc shaman. as well as five large oxen sized boars. Three ridden by the individuals and two carrying the luggage the group brought with them. Which, in retrospect, was not a lot. As they approached the capital city of Astalia Gil couldn't help but marvel at the city on the cliffs. The sun glistened off the sea as they approached. It was a sight that Gil hadn't known he was missing out on. He stopped for a brief moment to admire the view from a distance. "My Prince, we must continue. We must arrive this day." The guard who accompanied him said as he turned to look at the young man. His voice was gruff, one that many would find intimidating. The blue eyes of the prince landed on the guard and he sighed. "I am very aware of this Aldar. I was simply admiring the Sea. I have never seen it before." Gil replied, kicking the boar to start walking again. Travelers on the road would not know what the men were saying as they were speaking the language of the Orcs. His gaze remained on the ocean as they continued. If there was one thing he could say he was happy about, it would be the chance to see the ocean. It was a beautiful sight, one he would not soon forget. It took about an hour for the group to enter the city. The city itself was something to marvel at. The buildings much more permanent than many in his kingdom. Being built of stone, some even build into the cliff faces. The Prince examined the buildings as the group traveled through the city toward the castle that sat directly on the cliff. It took him a moment to notice the murmurs as the group traveled. He knew that many of the other races were distrustful of his people. Orcs were seen as brutes by the rest of the continent. He was sure their arrival was one that would be met with a mix of emotions. It didn't help that though the Prince's clothes were rich in color, they were nothing to marvel at. His country did not use clothing to show status, in fact it wasn't uncommon for Cheiftans to wear clothes similar to the people they commanded. Their status was instead represented by threads and ribbons braided into an individual's hair. Something other countries would not understand. After a short walk through the city they arrived at the castle gates. Where they were stopped. Aldar, dismounted and presented the Prince in broken Astalian. "Prince Gil Jalal of Afdan." Was all he said. Which seemed to give the guards all they needed. Gil and the Shaman who accompanied the two dismounted as well, and their mounts were taken elsewhere. The group now traveled on foot, being ushered toward the main hall. Aldar took the lead, with Gil behind him, and the Shaman behind him.</s>
<\|description\|>Gil Jalal Annalise Altera Age: 22 Bio: The eldest of the 4 daughters Annalise was born with some form of Albinism resulting in much lighter skin and hair than her parents. It was because of this that she was believed to have the ability to learn the art of magic. When she was old enough to learn one of the Court Mages attempted to train her in the art but it was quickly discovered that she was not able to practice the art. She has a very intense sense of duty to her father and her kingdom, while she does wish for her freedom to marry who she wanted, like her father did before her, she is willing to do what it takes to help her father and her home succeed. Other: Annalise was born blind in her right eye so she can be a little clumsy at times and lacks proper depth perception. Age: 19 Bio(optional): The 3rd son to the King of the Orc ruled desert Kingdom of Afdan. Personality: Despite his slightly brutish appearance Prince Gil is a respectable male with a kind heart. He often speaks softly and has a habit of hunching around those he does not wish to startle in an attempt to make himself look smaller. He is, however, aware that he does give off a certain appearance and his not afraid to use his larger stature to intimidate those he deems a threat. Other(optional): Aldar has been Gil's personal guard as well as teacher since he was old enough to wield a weapon. He is practically a second father to the prince. A young but gifted Shaman sent with Gil to tend to the Prince should he sustain any injuries as well as to allow fast communication between Gil and his father should it be needed. Long ago the Desert Country of Afdan was seemingly uninhabitable however the hearty Orcish race called these lands home. Many nomadic tribes existed within the country each filled with fierce warriors. Orc were viewed by the rest of the kingdoms as brutish and savage. In most cases they were correct. Many kingdoms took to exiling criminals, traitors, and deserters to the country, intending it to be a punishment. Those who were exiled here soon found out that though the Orcs of the country were indeed brutes, they were also willing to learn about the world outside of their own realm. The Orcs of Afdan accepted those who were exiled into their tribes so long as the individuals respected their rules and ways of life. Slowly as the tribes took on more people of all races a true country began to form. The dwarves brought with them knowledge of metal and ore, the humans agriculture and livestock, the elves magic. As the country grew it became a melting pot of many different cultures and the nomadic ways of the old Orcs, though not entirely gone, became less of a necessity and more of a way of distributing goods from one tribe to another. However each tribe still saw themselves as separate from the others, only trading among the others because it benefited them. Eventually, as with most new civilizations, a power struggle began, as each tribe, with their own Chief, began fighting for land and resources. After all, resources were few and far between in the desert. Simple squabbles became full blown wars until finally one of the Orc Chiefs, came up with an idea. The Chiefs of each tribe would fight in 1v1 battle against another, moving up the ranks as they won until only one was victorious. The winner would be made Chief of Chiefs and their tribe would become the new united nation's capital. All losing Chiefs would answer to the winner but still maintain their tribe. Any disputes on land and resources would be handled by the Chief of Chiefs and his word would be final. The official Kingdom of Afdan is a fairly new kingdom only about half a century old, still consisting of a variety of tribes, each with their own Chief who answers to the "Chief of Chiefs" or to other kingdoms, the "King" of Afdan. The Orc Dumag Jalal, the winner of "The Great Chief Battle" Became the ruler of this new Kingdom at the Young Age of 20. His human wife Daphne Jalal, the Queen, has been instrumental in assisting the tribes in coming together. The pair have 3 sons. Dumag Jalal II, 25, the eldest and heir to the throne. Uram Jalal, 23, the middle and commander of the Afdan army. Gil Jalal, 19, the youngest and the one who was sent to marry a Princess of the Astalian Kingdom.</s> <\|message\|>Erick Just as Erick once again took his seat, his eyes flicked to the sizeable Prozdy prince before him and much to his surprise, he began to address him in thickly accented, broken Astalian. Erick responded with a shrug, nod and an uneasy smirk at what he supposed was a fairly fun remark regarding the previous evening, the conversation then moved on and Erick strained to understand some of the words which Vyarin was himself in the process of translating, "uhhh, bear..yes, very large" he expressed grinning with enthusiasm, given Vyarin's particular choice of words, Erick wondered if their methods of hunting greatly differed.. at this point the eldest princess, Annalise spoke up breaking through their conversation. The Jörda prince was somehow both agitated and relieved as she declined her attendance for the morning horse ride - it would have been a good opportunity to make a further impression, but.. he did feel quite unwell, perhaps a blessing in disguise? Erick blinked as she arose, almost lost in his thoughts he hastily stood as she began to make her leave, "Of course, Princess" he acknowledged and returned to his seat once she had vacated. The company was dwindling.. two suitors and two princesses, but the Prince Gil was yet to make an appearance. There was a short silence and Erick considered if returning to his conversation with Vyarin or engaging the princesses was the wisest option, but the youngest princess, Jinayah spoke up to break the stifling quiet; his eyebrows flicked upwards with her suggestion, "it will be my pleasure" he replied with a smile, before she then turned her attention to the table collectively. Erick wasn't sure if Jinayah's question was mostly rhetorical, and the Jörda prince considered to himself with some regret he'd spent a portion of it in the stables.. he wondered if they were aware, hopefully not.. he cleared his throat, "yes, indeed" he expressed with a guttural voice, he scanned the others only briefly and continued to eat, picking at his dry bread and a small handful of black grapes.</s> <\|message\|>Gil Jalal \| \| \| \| ______________________________________ \| \| --- The next morning Gil was woken by Sioban. The Prince groaned and sat up not wanting to be awake just yet. "Wake up sleepy Prince, we got things we need to do today." The upbeat voice of the shaman rang out as Gil rolled his eyes and stood up to stretch the sleep from his limbs. This seemed to please the Shaman who left Gil to prepare for the day. He dressed himself in his most casual outfit. His clothes were nothing special. If one didn't know better he could easily be mistaken for a common member of society. Only those who knew of the significance of his braids, beads, and threads would be able to pick out that he was royalty. He doubted many of the Astalians would notice though. After getting dressed for the day he left his room and found both Sioban and Aldar waiting for him outside his room. "The King has ordered that we remain within the castle grounds without an Astalian guard's company. Something has changed and he clearly wishes to keep it out of the ears of the public for now. I will accompany you for the day." Aldar said bluntly as Gil walked past the two and headed toward the dining hall. It seemed his entourage had other plans as Sioban pulled Gil toward the direction of one of the gardens. "Before you partake in a morning meal, Aldar thinks it is a good idea we take the time to grant you blessings for today. It will only take a moment." Sioban explained as he led the Prince into the garden and toward the small creek that babbled through the back of it. There Gil kneeled beside the water and Sioban began speaking in orcish, requesting that the gods of nature as well as the ancestors look after Gil in his activities for the day. The ceremony was brief but it was long enough that Gil arrived to the dining hall after the eldest Princess had already made her exit and the others seemed close to finishing as well. He gave them all a polite nod and a morning greeting in Orcish as he took a place at the table and took in the options he had to eat. Aldar took a post on the wall behind the Prince but it seemed the Shaman had wandered off to do whatever it was Sioban had found to entertain himself with which didn't surprise the Prince one bit, the Shaman had always been one to do his own thing. "Big day today yea? The Ball and all?" He questioned just to see if he could start some idol chatter while he casually piled his plate high with all the food that could fit. He wouldn't be offended if nobody answered him after all they seemed to be in their own conversations already.</s> <\|message\|>Vyarin Kremazov While the others sitting at the table were occupied in their own conversations, Vyarin began shoving dry little lumps of bread into his pockets. It was a bad habit that he had never quite outgrown; his younger self did at times get into trouble for it. There was nothing that stirred the blood in his hands quite like the backs of them being rapped fiercely by a thin strand of willow, its fibres pulled taut. However, that never seemed to stop him; just make him a better sneak. Besides, one gets used to the sensation. He never regretted not having the occasional nibble of something when he had time to himself, usually sometime between the noon and evening meals. The Astalian bread was so light and airy, it hardly felt like biting into any substance at all. Best to take a few more rolls, just in case. However, his dastardly heist was cut short by the sudden arrival of one of the absent princes, the well-built figure of greenish hue. Vyarin had no way of telling whether the sudden interloper had seen him, and was simply pretending not to say anything to avoid a scene. He dropped the lump in his hand, it landing with a soft pat on the tablecloth. The other prince ambled to the table and joined the diners there, making sudden conversation. Yes, the ball. Just one more battle in this grand campaign. Vyarin nodded along, slowly getting to his feet and hoping his pockets didn't protrude too much that the others thought something off. "Excusing, please," Vyarin said, quiet as he could while still feeling like he could be heard. "I am worrying; I come to here with men. They are of me; I not see all of the night. I go to look; they are not to go away." In his mind, he irked at the half-lie. It was true, he was worried about how his loyal men were faring, but there was far more than that. He made a mental checklist of the tasks ahead. He had to destroy the letter from his father, before any of the local eyes and ears made note of it. He had to find a way to dress up in Astalian manner, to appear at the coming gathering. Most importantly, he had to talk with Annalise the eldest, at least to make his name known in person. He left the dining hall, making proper obeisance to their host the king, but not quite knowing if he appreciated the gesture. There was much to be done indeed.</s> <\|message\|>Jinayah Altera Jinayah smiled warmly at Prince Erick's acceptance of her offer to ride. "Excellent. I'll be ready in about two hours. I will meet you at the stables. Just ask one of the servants to point you the way." When Prince Gil spoke, she turned her head. Her mood dipped just a touch. "Yes, it is a big day. I, for one, hope that you're ready to dance your shoes thin." There was an excitement in her voice that was entirely false. The lie was given away in her eyes. She didn't mind socializing with the Princes in private. They were just boys, after all, and she'd spent her childhood dealing with them while she trained. No, it was the other nobles that would be in attendance. She could very well do without the conniving, backstabbing, constantly calculating courtiers. As Prince Vyarin made his excuses and exited, she too, stood. "Well, I'd best get ready. You enjoy your breakfast. Prince Erick, I will see you soon." - One and a half hours later, she was at the stables. She had switched out the armor for an embroidered tunic and pants, with high riding boots. While she brushed her favorite riding horse, a rose gray mare with an elegantly braided mane and tail, she hummed lightly under her breath. Blossom always liked the humming. Hopefully no one was looking, as she practiced her dancing footwork to her own music.</s>	<\|message\|>Gil Jalal Annalise took the long way to the library, more or less deep in her own thoughts as she walked. There was so much at stake here, her country's future as well as the futures of the countries the Princes hail from. Would uniting really make them all stronger or would it simply make it easier to take out the remaining heads of the larger countries. The Empire had no problem lying in wait. This much she knew from accounts of how the other countries were taken over. Especially in the beginning. She quickened her pace, she needed to find a book, one that accounted the start of the war. Would there even be one? She had scoured the library many times for Gilthan history but all had been lost. After a bit of walking she finally entered the large room that was the castle's main library. There were smaller libraries scattered about but those only contained copies of the books held in this room. Any book the royal family owned would be found in this room. Books were not allowed to leave this library, so the collection should be complete, so long as nobody had snuck one out. Some of the castle's staff approached the Princess as she entered but they were quickly waved off with a polite smile. She didn't want or need the help. Immediately she got to work scouring the shelves, pulling anything down that she thought would have any sort of relevant information. It took her a bit but eventually she had quite a few books piled up on one of the many tables that were scattered around the front of the room. Annalise got to work skimming the books, moving everything she realized was not helpful to the side. The discarded books were taken and put back by the staff that occupied the room. Books were watched closely here, even when in the hands of one of the Royal family. The rule was not to be broken, by anyone. This was the one place the mages had more authority than she did, and she was always careful to respect that. She would spend the next while skimming books and placing them to the side when she didn't find what she wanted. She figured this task would take her a while, keep her busy until she was either interrupted, or the time to prepare for the ball began.</s>
<\|description\|>Yin Appearance: Race: Human Occupation: Explorer Memories: Yin awoken one day in a dark, damp cave. With nothing but the clothes on her back, she had no idea where she was or even who she was. It was frightful at first, because she was alone. But soon that fear became curiosity. Yin would leave the cave, following a strange voice in her head. It was neither frightening, nor calming. It was more like... The sound of the wind. The washing of the waves. Crackling fire. A falling rock. The sound of nature and life. She wandered for some time, stopping to sleep, eat, and drink, as her memories slowly came back to her. Though really the only memory she regained was her name. However soon she would discover the horrors in these lands. Mutated beings who once were human, like her. Madness stricken beasts who tore at anything that moved. Even creatures who by all rights should be dead, shambling about adding more numbers to their ranks. Yin could not face these creatures alone, and fled from them. Fear gripped her heart. But once again, that fear turned into a strange curiosity. A desire for strength. And so Yin sought out a way to protect herself, and free these tortured souls from their existence. That's when she discovered a strange power she had within her. The power shelter lost souls within her... Other: Yin has found a large cat doll which she has painstakingly cleaned and cared for. It helped keep her sanity when she was alone, as she has had no company otherwise. So far the only memory Yin has discovered is her own name, and only because she heard the name in her head and simply assumes it's her name. She's tried to find if there's anything else about her identity, but so far she has found nothing. Yin is decently capable of basic survival skills, as she is one of the rare few truly living beings in these lands, and Yin still needs to eat and drink to live.</s> <\|message\|>Graham Douglas One moment, Graham Douglas had been the undisputed master of all he surveyed. The next, he had been bleeding out on the ground, a knife shoved into his back by his traitorous right hand man. And now here he was. Rather than heading off to whatever afterlife was waiting for him, Graham instead found himself in a crumbling temple with with a bunch of other dead people all surrounding a girl who was still clearly alive and sleeping soundly on the temple's altar. Though he was incapable of moving away from where he appeared, Graham had the fortune of appearing within sitting distance of one of the few long chairs that time had yet to break beyond use. As he sat down, Graham heard the others start talking and introducing themselves, so Graham figured he'd get in on that. "Graham Douglas." Graham introduced himself. "By the by, does anyone else 'ave this strange feelin' in the back o' their 'eads that somethin' dangerous is 'eaded this way or is that just death makin' me go a bit loopy?"</s> <\|message\|>Yin As the four were trying to figure out what was going on with their situation, the girl began to rouse. Strangely enough as she was becoming conscious, everyone would feel more mobile. They were able to move around her, though no further than five feet or so. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and looked around. For a moment she seemed shocked. She was quiet and you could all tell she was afraid. Yet at the same time, despite being so much smaller, so much weaker, there was a certain level of defiance within her. As if she was ready to fight despite how hopelessly outmatched she would be. "Who are you all? You're not... Did you just come here? You don't look like the monsters in these lands." Yin gulped. She had no weapons, not even a rock, but her hands were held tightly to her chest as if to protect her vitals. "I'm Yin... Do you all live here?" Whisper would also notice something now that they have awakened mentally. The altar the girl sat upon was dedicated to a certain deity. The name would elude them due to the void in their memories, but off the top of their heads Whisper could remember their had something to do with voyaging and safe passage: sensible things to want in this pastoral coastal ruin. Whisper himself would know that there are similar deities within the realm of death, such as the Ferryman of Souls. Perhaps it was no coincidence that Whisper would awaken here then, in this place meant to guide people to their destination, be it new lands or an afterlife. As for Graham, while most of his memories unrelated to his vengeance are also a blur, something about some of the ruined iconography was familiar. It was strange because the markings weren't anything like what was on the altar. But it would only take a moment for him to remember some cult or religion that was rather notable back in his city that had the tendency to plaster their symbols everywhere, especially in temples. Even if Graham is not a religious man, he would know that such graffiti had one purpose: marking an enemy area as your territory. Perhaps it was no time that brought this temple to ruin after all. That foreboding feeling was still coming. And for some it was heard. Tamzen was able to hear the flaps of a large winged creature: this was no mere bird. Something much bigger, and was moving fast and with purpose. It was uncertain to know if they realized Yin was here but Tamzen could at least recognize some flying creature was approaching the area due north. As for the others, Alsei would only need a short moment to realize that Yin was overly malnourished. Any strenuous physical activity would drain her quickly, and there was no doubt that if anything came by to attack her, her chances of survival was slim. The fact she survived for this long was nothing short of a miracle. PAL would approach, it's body largely functional however many parts of it's chassis and equipment were rusted and in a state of ruin. The flail heads were gone, likely lost underneath the sand, the tabard was eaten away but insects, and the shield was warped and rusted as well. It would take some time to fix PAL back to it's previous state, but it was still functional nonetheless.</s> <\|message\|>Tamzen Silentflight As the other two introduced themselves, Tamzen looked over their new companions once again, eyes lingering on Whisper in particular. They hadn't encountered many kenku in their travels, but they were pretty sure that skeletal, eyeless face was not a common trait. Did it have something to do with how he had died? None of the others showed such severe disfigurements, meaning either the kenku's death had been particularly horrific or there was something else at play here. The halfling didn't have too long to comtemplate what to do about this before the woman on the altar finally awoke. Tamzen turned their head towards her. Just as they were about to open their mouth to answer her queries, however, their pointed ears suddenly pricked up as they became aware of large wingbeats, slowly growing louder and louder. "Something's coming," they said. They pointed northwards. "From over that way." They looked back at Yin. "It appears we are not safe here. Do you know how to fight?" They then glanced at the other members of the group. "Do any of you know how to fight or..." They looked down at their ghostly hands. Could they even fight like this? They weren't even sure if they could move, let alone hit something. They shook their head. "I think we should consider retreating, find a place to hide, get our bearings."</s> <\|message\|>Graham Douglas From where he was sitting, Graham pulled out his bubble pipe and began 'smoking' it. As he did so, he became aware of a number of eight-pointed stars graffitied all across the temple. Graham was familiar with this type of graffiti. He'd frequently used his own version of it over his many campaigns of underworld conquest at the head of the Lamb Street Shanks. It was the sort of graffiti that was left behind after an attack to let people know just who it was that rolled on through and set fire to everything. Most of the gangs Graham had dealt with hadn't been religious in nature, the closest he'd ever come being some pirates led by a hobgoblin paladin. But even so, Graham had seen these symbols before when he was alive. They belonged to a cult that paid homage to the Bright for power or protection. They never made an effort to oppose him and he had never antagonized them, so Graham didn't know much about them. But he did know that a good portion of the Lamb Street Shanks were also members of this cult. Graham didn't remember there being a quiet costal village near the city he lived in though, so he wondered what these symbols were doing here. Perhaps the cults operation was farther reaching than he thought. Or perhaps they had moved or expanded far beyond the city between Graham's death and now. Either way, Graham put those thoughts aside as Yin woke up and spoke. "Graham Douglas." Graham introduced himself a second time once Yin was done talking. "We just got 'ere through some magical shenanigan or another and were just as puzzled as you are on 'ow that 'appened." When Tamzen mentioned that something was coming and suggested they run and hide, Graham was deeply offended by the notion. "Bugger that!" Graham exclaimed. "If whatever's comin' this way is a threat, I say we kill it!" With that said, Graham put away his pipe, pulled out his crossbow, and readied himself for battle.</s> <\|message\|>Whisper "Yin. Graham Douglas. Tamzen Silentflight. Alssssei Cogsssspeaker." The chorus of voices rolled out from the hooded Kenku, a perfect copy of each being reflected back to their speakers. He shifted, flowing like a rolling cloud of fog in his shadowy form towards the Altar- and towards Yin. She would be permitted, indirectly, to see into his hood and to see the abominable visage that he possesses as he quietly contemplates the Altar. Oh, how his mind failed him! A lifetime of a body that creaked and groaned only to lose his mind as a spirit! It set nerves- Nerves that shouldn't function, he has no glands or organs for them to connect to after all- on edge. At the alrert of Danger, the Kenku's feathers flattened out and smoothed down. This simple thing resulted in Whisper losing most of his volume and his robes shifting as if something beneath them were alive as his stature was reduced to that of a gaunt frame beneath the black of his attire. Truly, in life, he must have been miserable. Whirling the scythe slowly in his hands, his beak parted; "You don't look like the monsters in these lands." He echoed back to Yin, shadows flowing down his arms and along the scythe. These shadows formed into a larger cloud that Whisper suddenly turned and slashed the Scythe through; the cloud erupting around Yin and melding her into the shadows as well. [Action: Spell Slot expended to Cast Invisibility upon Yin]. "Find a place to hide, kill it, fullfill your duty as Guardian!." he declared to the group. Whisper's scythe stilled in the air, trembling as the magic flowed off him and over Yin. The beak parted one final time, whispering to Yin in a strange kaleidoscope of voices; "Somethin' dangerous is 'eaded this way, we are not safe here I fear we might not have much time. My name issss... Whisper." the final voice was once again that wondrously pleasant female voice he couldn't quite recall.</s>	<\|message\|>Yin Yin was confused why these people were here, though at the same time she didn't feel too... Threaten, at least not by them. It was a strange feeling, almost familiar? But there wasn't really any time to question it. Soon a loud, ear piercing screech ripped through the air. Yin looked around scared before glancing back to Tamzen. "I... I don't know how to fight. But I know how to hide." The church wasn't a very great place to hide as it was quite open, lacking doors and most of it's roof. Yin ran out of the ruined temple and the others would feel themselves get pulled alongside her. Yin moved somewhat quick, but it helped that she was very light and spry. She ran out of the temple and looked around for a place to hide. Lots of ruins that wouldn't provide much cover, but there was a well in the distance. Yin could potentially hide down there, assuming there wasn't anything lurking within. But as the young woman was running towards the well, the others would see something in the sky. The shadow it cast looked like a woman... But the physical body was that of a monster. The creature was about 200 feet away, and flying towards Yin. She dove behind a wall and held her breath, hoping the beast hadn't spotted her. However from the way it was flying closer, it may be too late for Yin... But not for the spirits. Though they couldn't stray far from her, they were unimpeded by the physical barriers around her. They were able to phase out of the wall and floor, and the weapons on their back had weight and heft to them. Even if Yin could not fight, perhaps these spirits could. Or at least do something to help Yin escape this flying beast, as her heartbeat and heavy breathing was revealing her position to any creature with keen senses.</s>
<\|description\|>Tamzen Silentflight myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2537265 Appearance: Tamzen stands at about 3 foot 5. They have sandy skin, dark grey eyes and very short black hair that looks like they may have tried to cut it themself to... mixed results. They almost always where a wooden mask resembling horned owl, which hides the fact that their face is badly scarred with three deep claw marks, one narrowly missing their left eye. Their left ear also appears to have a small tear in it, while the right one has two piercings that resemble very large thorns. Their clothes are monk robes that use very warm, autumnal colours, though not in the best condition as they are all tattered and stained with dirt. Race: Ghostwise Halfling Occupation: Wanderer, healer and acolyte Memories: Tamzen heralds from a small, secluded village and all of their memories prior to leaving are actually quite vivid. They were the second of two children and in contrast to their responsible older brother - and the person they themself would eventually become - they were a something of a wild child. They were constantly disobeying the rules laid down by their parents and the village elders, and essentially bullying the other village children into going along with their various schemes. Eventually, this lead to an incident involving in which, on dare to see who was brave enough to enter a nearby cave, Tamzen and another young halfling were attacked by some kind of creature the likes of which neither had ever seen. Tamzen received a nasty claw to their face and their friend was almost killed, when a stranger wearing a goat mask fended on the creature and brought the two halflings back to their village. Tamzen had passed out during the journey but when they awoke, they found the wound on their face was healed - albeit leaving a rather nasty scar - and their friend in stable condition. The stranger, who they later found out was called Alda, had apparently used some kind of power to heal both of them in a way that none of the village healers could. Now, Tamzen's village was very wary of outsiders, and this particular stranger seemed to make them very uncomfortable. Alda was about the same height as a halfling but had a greenish tint to her skin, with oversized ears and hands that more resembled claws. However, she had saved two of their own, so she was permitted to stay in the village for a couple of days, though most of the people kept their distance from her and warned their young not to associate with her. Obviously, Tamzen didn't listen. They wanted to thank Alda for saving them and their friend - who they felt extremely guilty for putting in danger - and they rarely got the chance to speak to someone outside their village. So they managed to sneak into the small hut Alda was staying in and, over the next few days, the two started to form a friendship. Alda wasn't like the other adults in the village. She always answered their questions and told them about things they'd never heard of. For example, Alda explained she was part of an order dedicated to the restoration of the land. She told Tamzen that the land 'very, very sick', that this 'sickness' was responsible for creatures like the one that had attacked them, and if nothing was done, this sickness may cause this land - or even the entire world - to become uninhabitable. All members of this order wore animal masks in order to connect them to nature and remind them of their duty to the land. While Tamzen didn't entirely understand everything she said, they felt the urgency and importance of what Alda was doing, and felt a strong desire to help her, unlike anything they had ever felt. While they loved their village and the people in it, they'd always felt restless here, like they didn't quite belong. Compared to their peers and their older brother, they'd never felt like they had a place, never sure what they wanted to do with their life, which was probably part of the reason for their mischief. In Alda, they suddenly saw some sense of purpose, so when the day come that Alda was set to leave the village, Tamzen said they wanted to with them. Some of the village immediately took against this, obviously, as it had been a long time since one of them had left and saw it as a disturbance in the status quo. After all, if Tamzen left, what would stop others from following their example? On the other hand, not everyone felt that way. Some argued that Tamzen was coming to the age when they would be considered an adult, and still very reckless and bold. Perhaps this journey was what would be needed to calm their wild spirit and make them into an upstanding citizen. After much deliberating, the elders eventually decided to let Tamzen go, but before they left, as was tradition, they were given a small vial of water from the neighbouring river to be worn around their neck as a reminder of where they had come from. After that, Tamzen's memories become very patchwork. They spent a lot of time traveling, saw a lot of people and places, all the while learning from Alda. Alda taught Tamzen many things about both the order and the world in general, such as about various gods including a obscure nature deity that she and the other members of the order worshiped - though Tamzen can no longer recall the name of this deity - how to use one's life force to both heal AND hurt others, and how to speak and understand Terran and Primordial, both languages used by the order and the former of which used in all their scripture. During that time, Tamzen matured a great deal, losing their wilder nature and becoming entirely dedicated to their duty. Eventually, Alda gave Tamzen their own mask, which she had made herself, and resembled an owl in honour of Tamzen's surname 'Silentflight'. Tamzen also remembers that Alda did say after giving this mask that she was going to take them to meet the other members of their order to get fully inducted, though they can't remember if she ever got round to this. They also don't remember what happened to Alda, whether she died or left, only that at some point, Tamzen found themself traveling alone, though still fulfilling the teachings of their mentor. As for Tamzen's death, they don't remember how or when they died, nor do they seem to care much. In fact, they seem to find their new state merely a way for them to better fulfill their responsibilities, even seeing it as being in some way advantageous as they no longer feel burdened by the weaknesses of the living. They also have gotten it into their heads that the Gestalt is some sort of saviour figure, that they are the answer to saving this land that their order was trying so desperately to find, and that the spirits that are bound to the Gestalt are key to aiding this cause. Other: - Goes by they/them pronouns. - Despite claiming that the past is past and that their fellow spirits should forget about their past lives to focus fully on helping the Gestalt, Tamzen is very protective of the vial of water given to them by the village and will become very anxious if it is endangered. - Tamzen almost never removes their mask in the presence of others, partly due to their loyalty to their order but also because they don't want people to see their scars. This isn't so much because they hate the look of the scars themselves but because they are a reminder of their recklessness during youth, which they feel a great deal of shame towards.</s> <\|message\|>Yin The sun never sets in the Brighted Lands. More a curse than a blessing. Despite the sun's constant presence, it provided no warmth. The land was cold, dry, and desperate for life. What exists are ruins and shadows, dust and decay. In a nameless coastal village, Yin was searching for food. Sometimes she could find something that wasn't too rotten that she could eat, or if she was really lucky she would find a plant she could eat. She thought about hunting before, but most creatures she encountered were monsters. Even the birds looked scary and almost as big as her. Yet despite how bleak things were, she's always kept a smile on her face. A skip in her step. Something about her was... Hopeful, despite how desolate these lands were. Even now as her stomach growled and her body was so thin. She hasn't had much to eat except a strange root she had dug up yesterday. It tasted like dirt, but it didn't make her puke, so it was delicious. But it wasn't enough. She searched through the ruins of a building covered in sand. Long chairs had been broken down due to sand and time, but somehow the stone altar remained. Though dirty it didn't show too much signs of decay, though whatever was written on it was on sort of language Yin doesn't understand. Or maybe her eyes were just playing tricks on her due to her hunger. Still... This alter felt nice. Smooth and oddly warm. Yin sat on it to get a moment of rest. "Suppose I could try and see if there's anything to eat in the water. Even if it's far away... I could try. I could... Try..." Yin was tired. She had been walking for as long as she had been awake. Sometimes she would run. When she stopped, she simply sat down, closing her eyes for a bit before running off again. Day and night. She was so tired... So lonely. She laid down on the altar for a moment. It was comfortable. Warm, even in the shadow of this dilapidated building. It would be the first time she's truly had rest. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She took in the senses of her surroundings. The sound of the waves. The smell of the sea. The dryness of her skin. The bitter taste on her tongue. "Yeah... This is a good place to rest..." --- It has been forever since you had died. And it also felt like it was only a moment ago you breathed your last breath. Death. Even for the most stalwart of martyrs, no one can escape the burden of death on one's soul. For many, the experience is enough to drive a man to insanity. A quite whimper would be the best he could muster. But for some... Craven, courageous, wise, or witless, they can find the strength of self to go beyond death. You awaken in a destroyed temple. You don't truly feel like yourself, yet at the same time you feel as though you're alive again. Yet when you try to move, even as you lift your foot and put it in front of the other, you don't move from your spot. You see three other figures near you. Strangers yet somehow there's a sense of kinship with these people. And at the center, a young woman sleeping on an altar. She looks gaunt and hungry, yet somehow sleeping peacefully on this stone bed. But something is coming. How far or how many, it's hard to tell. But you know danger will arrive. Something threatens you, yet at the same time you hardly feel fear. Or anything for that matter. There is no heart beat, no breath. You couldn't move because your feet are not touching the floor. Even if you tried to touch your hand or your chest, it's as if there's nothing there at all. You are a spirit, bound to a mortal. How or why, you do not know. But you have the instinctive feeling of protecting this person, if only out of self-preservation. You know your life is linked to hers. For better or for worse, because you had the will to live you are here. Now you must use that will to fight for your life. There is some time before this profane feeling approaches. You should speak to these fellow spirits, and learn who you're accompanying. The girl doesn't seem to stir, though she still lives. For now.</s> <\|message\|>Alsei Cogspeaker Eyelids flutter open to reveal green eyes with slit pupils. The woman with black hair looks around curiously as she tries to recuperate. A low serpentine like hiss comes from her, "What...? By Moradin'ssss Beard, What isssss thissss placcce?" She quickly takes stock of her memories, her surroundings, and the others nearby. Many questions arose at the fact that she is dead and is currently a spirit. She noticed the sense of kinship between the other three spirits, and the girl sleeping on the altar. "How sssstrange. I may need to take notessss on thisss later..." Her head snaps warily towards the sense of profane danger that approaches. She wanted to speak with the others and get to know them more, but she knows that they need to get the girl in front of them ready for a fight. While she may not fear death anymore, she still is aware that they shouldn't waste any time if they want to be able to make it through the fight. Preparation ahead of time can do wonders for the girl's survival after all. She looks to the group and quickly introduces herself, "I fear we might not have much time, sssso, I'll quickly introduccce myssssself. My name issss Alssssei Cogsssspeaker. It issss niccce to meet you. Now then..." After introducing herself, she looks around quickly and speaks to herself, "Now....where isss PAL? He sssshhhould be...Ah! There you are!" Her eyes land on the steel defender that lied nearby covered in sand. She noted the sand and figured that a lot of time had passed. PAL clearly needs maintenance, but at a glance, it seems like PAL should still be functional. She clears her throat and with her attention directed to the steel defender, she speaks with authority, "Voiccce Authentication: Eight Two Ssssixxx Five. Risssse and Sssshhhine PAL. It isss time for a new day, and time to fulfill your duty as Guardian!" --- After Alsei gave the voice authentication, the steel defender's eyes shine with a blue light. The steel defender moves to stand up and turns to face Yin, unmoving and waiting for commands or any sign of threats. It stands vigilantly as it speaks, "Voice Authentication confirmed. Ally registered. Awaiting commands,</s>	<\|message\|>Tamzen Silentflight When the shortest of the four spirits awoke, their first instinct upon finding themself among these spectral strangers was to get into a defensive stance. While their expression was hidden behind a mask, the distrusting glint in their eyes as their gaze swept over each member of the group was unmistakable. Eventually, their sight rest on the woman asleep on the altar. At the sight of her, the masked spirit felt themselves relax slightly, though they weren't sure why. She was just as unknown to them as the others. However, unlike them, she seemed to be tangible, alive, and not in the best condition due to hunger. A strange feeling of... protectiveness passed over the small spirit and they attempted to approach the woman, only to find they couldn't move. Frustrated, they muttered something under their breath. It sounded like it was in halfling, but even if the other spirits couldn't understand it, they could probably tell it was some kind of curse. It was at this point one of the other spirits, a (seemingly) human woman with an unusual green eyes spoke up, introducing herself to the rest of them as Alsei. The masked halfling glanced at her, scrutinizing her once again. She didn't seem hostile, at least not towards current company. In fact, her sense of urgency and her willingness to be the first to speak up meant that the halfling couldn't help but respect her, even if they still weren't sure if they could trust her. "Tamzen," they grunted in response. "Tamzen Silentflight." They watched as Alsei then started scanning the surroundings in search of something she referred to as 'PAL'. Tamzen followed the woman's gaze towards a shape sitting submerged in the sand that, on closer inspection, appear vaguely humanoid in shape. How had Tamzen not noticed that before? They'd have to be much more alert going forward if they wanted to figure out what was going on.</s>
<\|description\|>Tamzen Silentflight myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2537265 Appearance: Tamzen stands at about 3 foot 5. They have sandy skin, dark grey eyes and very short black hair that looks like they may have tried to cut it themself to... mixed results. They almost always where a wooden mask resembling horned owl, which hides the fact that their face is badly scarred with three deep claw marks, one narrowly missing their left eye. Their left ear also appears to have a small tear in it, while the right one has two piercings that resemble very large thorns. Their clothes are monk robes that use very warm, autumnal colours, though not in the best condition as they are all tattered and stained with dirt. Race: Ghostwise Halfling Occupation: Wanderer, healer and acolyte Memories: Tamzen heralds from a small, secluded village and all of their memories prior to leaving are actually quite vivid. They were the second of two children and in contrast to their responsible older brother - and the person they themself would eventually become - they were a something of a wild child. They were constantly disobeying the rules laid down by their parents and the village elders, and essentially bullying the other village children into going along with their various schemes. Eventually, this lead to an incident involving in which, on dare to see who was brave enough to enter a nearby cave, Tamzen and another young halfling were attacked by some kind of creature the likes of which neither had ever seen. Tamzen received a nasty claw to their face and their friend was almost killed, when a stranger wearing a goat mask fended on the creature and brought the two halflings back to their village. Tamzen had passed out during the journey but when they awoke, they found the wound on their face was healed - albeit leaving a rather nasty scar - and their friend in stable condition. The stranger, who they later found out was called Alda, had apparently used some kind of power to heal both of them in a way that none of the village healers could. Now, Tamzen's village was very wary of outsiders, and this particular stranger seemed to make them very uncomfortable. Alda was about the same height as a halfling but had a greenish tint to her skin, with oversized ears and hands that more resembled claws. However, she had saved two of their own, so she was permitted to stay in the village for a couple of days, though most of the people kept their distance from her and warned their young not to associate with her. Obviously, Tamzen didn't listen. They wanted to thank Alda for saving them and their friend - who they felt extremely guilty for putting in danger - and they rarely got the chance to speak to someone outside their village. So they managed to sneak into the small hut Alda was staying in and, over the next few days, the two started to form a friendship. Alda wasn't like the other adults in the village. She always answered their questions and told them about things they'd never heard of. For example, Alda explained she was part of an order dedicated to the restoration of the land. She told Tamzen that the land 'very, very sick', that this 'sickness' was responsible for creatures like the one that had attacked them, and if nothing was done, this sickness may cause this land - or even the entire world - to become uninhabitable. All members of this order wore animal masks in order to connect them to nature and remind them of their duty to the land. While Tamzen didn't entirely understand everything she said, they felt the urgency and importance of what Alda was doing, and felt a strong desire to help her, unlike anything they had ever felt. While they loved their village and the people in it, they'd always felt restless here, like they didn't quite belong. Compared to their peers and their older brother, they'd never felt like they had a place, never sure what they wanted to do with their life, which was probably part of the reason for their mischief. In Alda, they suddenly saw some sense of purpose, so when the day come that Alda was set to leave the village, Tamzen said they wanted to with them. Some of the village immediately took against this, obviously, as it had been a long time since one of them had left and saw it as a disturbance in the status quo. After all, if Tamzen left, what would stop others from following their example? On the other hand, not everyone felt that way. Some argued that Tamzen was coming to the age when they would be considered an adult, and still very reckless and bold. Perhaps this journey was what would be needed to calm their wild spirit and make them into an upstanding citizen. After much deliberating, the elders eventually decided to let Tamzen go, but before they left, as was tradition, they were given a small vial of water from the neighbouring river to be worn around their neck as a reminder of where they had come from. After that, Tamzen's memories become very patchwork. They spent a lot of time traveling, saw a lot of people and places, all the while learning from Alda. Alda taught Tamzen many things about both the order and the world in general, such as about various gods including a obscure nature deity that she and the other members of the order worshiped - though Tamzen can no longer recall the name of this deity - how to use one's life force to both heal AND hurt others, and how to speak and understand Terran and Primordial, both languages used by the order and the former of which used in all their scripture. During that time, Tamzen matured a great deal, losing their wilder nature and becoming entirely dedicated to their duty. Eventually, Alda gave Tamzen their own mask, which she had made herself, and resembled an owl in honour of Tamzen's surname 'Silentflight'. Tamzen also remembers that Alda did say after giving this mask that she was going to take them to meet the other members of their order to get fully inducted, though they can't remember if she ever got round to this. They also don't remember what happened to Alda, whether she died or left, only that at some point, Tamzen found themself traveling alone, though still fulfilling the teachings of their mentor. As for Tamzen's death, they don't remember how or when they died, nor do they seem to care much. In fact, they seem to find their new state merely a way for them to better fulfill their responsibilities, even seeing it as being in some way advantageous as they no longer feel burdened by the weaknesses of the living. They also have gotten it into their heads that the Gestalt is some sort of saviour figure, that they are the answer to saving this land that their order was trying so desperately to find, and that the spirits that are bound to the Gestalt are key to aiding this cause. Other: - Goes by they/them pronouns. - Despite claiming that the past is past and that their fellow spirits should forget about their past lives to focus fully on helping the Gestalt, Tamzen is very protective of the vial of water given to them by the village and will become very anxious if it is endangered. - Tamzen almost never removes their mask in the presence of others, partly due to their loyalty to their order but also because they don't want people to see their scars. This isn't so much because they hate the look of the scars themselves but because they are a reminder of their recklessness during youth, which they feel a great deal of shame towards.</s> <\|message\|>Graham Douglas One moment, Graham Douglas had been the undisputed master of all he surveyed. The next, he had been bleeding out on the ground, a knife shoved into his back by his traitorous right hand man. And now here he was. Rather than heading off to whatever afterlife was waiting for him, Graham instead found himself in a crumbling temple with with a bunch of other dead people all surrounding a girl who was still clearly alive and sleeping soundly on the temple's altar. Though he was incapable of moving away from where he appeared, Graham had the fortune of appearing within sitting distance of one of the few long chairs that time had yet to break beyond use. As he sat down, Graham heard the others start talking and introducing themselves, so Graham figured he'd get in on that. "Graham Douglas." Graham introduced himself. "By the by, does anyone else 'ave this strange feelin' in the back o' their 'eads that somethin' dangerous is 'eaded this way or is that just death makin' me go a bit loopy?"</s> <\|message\|>Yin As the four were trying to figure out what was going on with their situation, the girl began to rouse. Strangely enough as she was becoming conscious, everyone would feel more mobile. They were able to move around her, though no further than five feet or so. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and looked around. For a moment she seemed shocked. She was quiet and you could all tell she was afraid. Yet at the same time, despite being so much smaller, so much weaker, there was a certain level of defiance within her. As if she was ready to fight despite how hopelessly outmatched she would be. "Who are you all? You're not... Did you just come here? You don't look like the monsters in these lands." Yin gulped. She had no weapons, not even a rock, but her hands were held tightly to her chest as if to protect her vitals. "I'm Yin... Do you all live here?" Whisper would also notice something now that they have awakened mentally. The altar the girl sat upon was dedicated to a certain deity. The name would elude them due to the void in their memories, but off the top of their heads Whisper could remember their had something to do with voyaging and safe passage: sensible things to want in this pastoral coastal ruin. Whisper himself would know that there are similar deities within the realm of death, such as the Ferryman of Souls. Perhaps it was no coincidence that Whisper would awaken here then, in this place meant to guide people to their destination, be it new lands or an afterlife. As for Graham, while most of his memories unrelated to his vengeance are also a blur, something about some of the ruined iconography was familiar. It was strange because the markings weren't anything like what was on the altar. But it would only take a moment for him to remember some cult or religion that was rather notable back in his city that had the tendency to plaster their symbols everywhere, especially in temples. Even if Graham is not a religious man, he would know that such graffiti had one purpose: marking an enemy area as your territory. Perhaps it was no time that brought this temple to ruin after all. That foreboding feeling was still coming. And for some it was heard. Tamzen was able to hear the flaps of a large winged creature: this was no mere bird. Something much bigger, and was moving fast and with purpose. It was uncertain to know if they realized Yin was here but Tamzen could at least recognize some flying creature was approaching the area due north. As for the others, Alsei would only need a short moment to realize that Yin was overly malnourished. Any strenuous physical activity would drain her quickly, and there was no doubt that if anything came by to attack her, her chances of survival was slim. The fact she survived for this long was nothing short of a miracle. PAL would approach, it's body largely functional however many parts of it's chassis and equipment were rusted and in a state of ruin. The flail heads were gone, likely lost underneath the sand, the tabard was eaten away but insects, and the shield was warped and rusted as well. It would take some time to fix PAL back to it's previous state, but it was still functional nonetheless.</s>	<\|message\|>Tamzen Silentflight As the other two introduced themselves, Tamzen looked over their new companions once again, eyes lingering on Whisper in particular. They hadn't encountered many kenku in their travels, but they were pretty sure that skeletal, eyeless face was not a common trait. Did it have something to do with how he had died? None of the others showed such severe disfigurements, meaning either the kenku's death had been particularly horrific or there was something else at play here. The halfling didn't have too long to comtemplate what to do about this before the woman on the altar finally awoke. Tamzen turned their head towards her. Just as they were about to open their mouth to answer her queries, however, their pointed ears suddenly pricked up as they became aware of large wingbeats, slowly growing louder and louder. "Something's coming," they said. They pointed northwards. "From over that way." They looked back at Yin. "It appears we are not safe here. Do you know how to fight?" They then glanced at the other members of the group. "Do any of you know how to fight or..." They looked down at their ghostly hands. Could they even fight like this? They weren't even sure if they could move, let alone hit something. They shook their head. "I think we should consider retreating, find a place to hide, get our bearings."</s>
<\|description\|>Tamzen Silentflight myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2537265 Appearance: Tamzen stands at about 3 foot 5. They have sandy skin, dark grey eyes and very short black hair that looks like they may have tried to cut it themself to... mixed results. They almost always where a wooden mask resembling horned owl, which hides the fact that their face is badly scarred with three deep claw marks, one narrowly missing their left eye. Their left ear also appears to have a small tear in it, while the right one has two piercings that resemble very large thorns. Their clothes are monk robes that use very warm, autumnal colours, though not in the best condition as they are all tattered and stained with dirt. Race: Ghostwise Halfling Occupation: Wanderer, healer and acolyte Memories: Tamzen heralds from a small, secluded village and all of their memories prior to leaving are actually quite vivid. They were the second of two children and in contrast to their responsible older brother - and the person they themself would eventually become - they were a something of a wild child. They were constantly disobeying the rules laid down by their parents and the village elders, and essentially bullying the other village children into going along with their various schemes. Eventually, this lead to an incident involving in which, on dare to see who was brave enough to enter a nearby cave, Tamzen and another young halfling were attacked by some kind of creature the likes of which neither had ever seen. Tamzen received a nasty claw to their face and their friend was almost killed, when a stranger wearing a goat mask fended on the creature and brought the two halflings back to their village. Tamzen had passed out during the journey but when they awoke, they found the wound on their face was healed - albeit leaving a rather nasty scar - and their friend in stable condition. The stranger, who they later found out was called Alda, had apparently used some kind of power to heal both of them in a way that none of the village healers could. Now, Tamzen's village was very wary of outsiders, and this particular stranger seemed to make them very uncomfortable. Alda was about the same height as a halfling but had a greenish tint to her skin, with oversized ears and hands that more resembled claws. However, she had saved two of their own, so she was permitted to stay in the village for a couple of days, though most of the people kept their distance from her and warned their young not to associate with her. Obviously, Tamzen didn't listen. They wanted to thank Alda for saving them and their friend - who they felt extremely guilty for putting in danger - and they rarely got the chance to speak to someone outside their village. So they managed to sneak into the small hut Alda was staying in and, over the next few days, the two started to form a friendship. Alda wasn't like the other adults in the village. She always answered their questions and told them about things they'd never heard of. For example, Alda explained she was part of an order dedicated to the restoration of the land. She told Tamzen that the land 'very, very sick', that this 'sickness' was responsible for creatures like the one that had attacked them, and if nothing was done, this sickness may cause this land - or even the entire world - to become uninhabitable. All members of this order wore animal masks in order to connect them to nature and remind them of their duty to the land. While Tamzen didn't entirely understand everything she said, they felt the urgency and importance of what Alda was doing, and felt a strong desire to help her, unlike anything they had ever felt. While they loved their village and the people in it, they'd always felt restless here, like they didn't quite belong. Compared to their peers and their older brother, they'd never felt like they had a place, never sure what they wanted to do with their life, which was probably part of the reason for their mischief. In Alda, they suddenly saw some sense of purpose, so when the day come that Alda was set to leave the village, Tamzen said they wanted to with them. Some of the village immediately took against this, obviously, as it had been a long time since one of them had left and saw it as a disturbance in the status quo. After all, if Tamzen left, what would stop others from following their example? On the other hand, not everyone felt that way. Some argued that Tamzen was coming to the age when they would be considered an adult, and still very reckless and bold. Perhaps this journey was what would be needed to calm their wild spirit and make them into an upstanding citizen. After much deliberating, the elders eventually decided to let Tamzen go, but before they left, as was tradition, they were given a small vial of water from the neighbouring river to be worn around their neck as a reminder of where they had come from. After that, Tamzen's memories become very patchwork. They spent a lot of time traveling, saw a lot of people and places, all the while learning from Alda. Alda taught Tamzen many things about both the order and the world in general, such as about various gods including a obscure nature deity that she and the other members of the order worshiped - though Tamzen can no longer recall the name of this deity - how to use one's life force to both heal AND hurt others, and how to speak and understand Terran and Primordial, both languages used by the order and the former of which used in all their scripture. During that time, Tamzen matured a great deal, losing their wilder nature and becoming entirely dedicated to their duty. Eventually, Alda gave Tamzen their own mask, which she had made herself, and resembled an owl in honour of Tamzen's surname 'Silentflight'. Tamzen also remembers that Alda did say after giving this mask that she was going to take them to meet the other members of their order to get fully inducted, though they can't remember if she ever got round to this. They also don't remember what happened to Alda, whether she died or left, only that at some point, Tamzen found themself traveling alone, though still fulfilling the teachings of their mentor. As for Tamzen's death, they don't remember how or when they died, nor do they seem to care much. In fact, they seem to find their new state merely a way for them to better fulfill their responsibilities, even seeing it as being in some way advantageous as they no longer feel burdened by the weaknesses of the living. They also have gotten it into their heads that the Gestalt is some sort of saviour figure, that they are the answer to saving this land that their order was trying so desperately to find, and that the spirits that are bound to the Gestalt are key to aiding this cause. Other: - Goes by they/them pronouns. - Despite claiming that the past is past and that their fellow spirits should forget about their past lives to focus fully on helping the Gestalt, Tamzen is very protective of the vial of water given to them by the village and will become very anxious if it is endangered. - Tamzen almost never removes their mask in the presence of others, partly due to their loyalty to their order but also because they don't want people to see their scars. This isn't so much because they hate the look of the scars themselves but because they are a reminder of their recklessness during youth, which they feel a great deal of shame towards.</s> <\|message\|>Graham Douglas From where he was sitting, Graham pulled out his bubble pipe and began 'smoking' it. As he did so, he became aware of a number of eight-pointed stars graffitied all across the temple. Graham was familiar with this type of graffiti. He'd frequently used his own version of it over his many campaigns of underworld conquest at the head of the Lamb Street Shanks. It was the sort of graffiti that was left behind after an attack to let people know just who it was that rolled on through and set fire to everything. Most of the gangs Graham had dealt with hadn't been religious in nature, the closest he'd ever come being some pirates led by a hobgoblin paladin. But even so, Graham had seen these symbols before when he was alive. They belonged to a cult that paid homage to the Bright for power or protection. They never made an effort to oppose him and he had never antagonized them, so Graham didn't know much about them. But he did know that a good portion of the Lamb Street Shanks were also members of this cult. Graham didn't remember there being a quiet costal village near the city he lived in though, so he wondered what these symbols were doing here. Perhaps the cults operation was farther reaching than he thought. Or perhaps they had moved or expanded far beyond the city between Graham's death and now. Either way, Graham put those thoughts aside as Yin woke up and spoke. "Graham Douglas." Graham introduced himself a second time once Yin was done talking. "We just got 'ere through some magical shenanigan or another and were just as puzzled as you are on 'ow that 'appened." When Tamzen mentioned that something was coming and suggested they run and hide, Graham was deeply offended by the notion. "Bugger that!" Graham exclaimed. "If whatever's comin' this way is a threat, I say we kill it!" With that said, Graham put away his pipe, pulled out his crossbow, and readied himself for battle.</s> <\|message\|>Whisper "Yin. Graham Douglas. Tamzen Silentflight. Alssssei Cogsssspeaker." The chorus of voices rolled out from the hooded Kenku, a perfect copy of each being reflected back to their speakers. He shifted, flowing like a rolling cloud of fog in his shadowy form towards the Altar- and towards Yin. She would be permitted, indirectly, to see into his hood and to see the abominable visage that he possesses as he quietly contemplates the Altar. Oh, how his mind failed him! A lifetime of a body that creaked and groaned only to lose his mind as a spirit! It set nerves- Nerves that shouldn't function, he has no glands or organs for them to connect to after all- on edge. At the alrert of Danger, the Kenku's feathers flattened out and smoothed down. This simple thing resulted in Whisper losing most of his volume and his robes shifting as if something beneath them were alive as his stature was reduced to that of a gaunt frame beneath the black of his attire. Truly, in life, he must have been miserable. Whirling the scythe slowly in his hands, his beak parted; "You don't look like the monsters in these lands." He echoed back to Yin, shadows flowing down his arms and along the scythe. These shadows formed into a larger cloud that Whisper suddenly turned and slashed the Scythe through; the cloud erupting around Yin and melding her into the shadows as well. [Action: Spell Slot expended to Cast Invisibility upon Yin]. "Find a place to hide, kill it, fullfill your duty as Guardian!." he declared to the group. Whisper's scythe stilled in the air, trembling as the magic flowed off him and over Yin. The beak parted one final time, whispering to Yin in a strange kaleidoscope of voices; "Somethin' dangerous is 'eaded this way, we are not safe here I fear we might not have much time. My name issss... Whisper." the final voice was once again that wondrously pleasant female voice he couldn't quite recall.</s> <\|message\|>Yin Yin was confused why these people were here, though at the same time she didn't feel too... Threaten, at least not by them. It was a strange feeling, almost familiar? But there wasn't really any time to question it. Soon a loud, ear piercing screech ripped through the air. Yin looked around scared before glancing back to Tamzen. "I... I don't know how to fight. But I know how to hide." The church wasn't a very great place to hide as it was quite open, lacking doors and most of it's roof. Yin ran out of the ruined temple and the others would feel themselves get pulled alongside her. Yin moved somewhat quick, but it helped that she was very light and spry. She ran out of the temple and looked around for a place to hide. Lots of ruins that wouldn't provide much cover, but there was a well in the distance. Yin could potentially hide down there, assuming there wasn't anything lurking within. But as the young woman was running towards the well, the others would see something in the sky. The shadow it cast looked like a woman... But the physical body was that of a monster. The creature was about 200 feet away, and flying towards Yin. She dove behind a wall and held her breath, hoping the beast hadn't spotted her. However from the way it was flying closer, it may be too late for Yin... But not for the spirits. Though they couldn't stray far from her, they were unimpeded by the physical barriers around her. They were able to phase out of the wall and floor, and the weapons on their back had weight and heft to them. Even if Yin could not fight, perhaps these spirits could. Or at least do something to help Yin escape this flying beast, as her heartbeat and heavy breathing was revealing her position to any creature with keen senses.</s>	<\|message\|>Tamzen Silentflight While it was partially obscured by their mask, Tamzen had shot a pretty fierce glare in Graham's direction. The man had completely regarded their concerns, seemingly ignorant of the kind of troublesome position they were in. "Listen," Tamzen said. Had they been able to move, they might have taken a step towards Graham, as if in an attempt to intimidate him. However, their feet remained anchored to where they had first spawned, and instead they could only lean forward slightly to get their point across. "We don't even know if we can fight in our current state, do you really think-" They were cut off suddenly when Whisper spoke again. He chanted each of the group's names in turn, perfectly mimicking the sound of each of their voices. It took all of Tamzen's will not to shudder as hearing their own voice coming out of another's mouth... err, beak. Then the Kenku did something else unexpected. With a flick of his scythe, he enveloped Yin in a shroud of darkness, causing her to disappear completely from sight. Tamzen's body tensed again, only to immediately relax once he realised what had happened. A spell... the Kenku had used a spell to hide Yin. "Magic still works, it seems," Tamzen muttered, more to themself than anyone else. Still, that didn't help them much. Their power didn't come from magic - not in the traditional sense, anyway - but from the energy that runs through all living things, that which some monastic traditions referred to as 'ki'. Tamzen glanced down at their hands, grimacing slightly. If their power was tied to life force, and they were no longer alive, how could they still possibly use it? They didn't have much time to ponder on this however, as a loud piercing shriek sounded from the sky. Tamzen tensed up again. They heard Yin admit that she didn't know how to fight, and they had to resist the urge to mutter another curse. It couldn't be helped. "We need to get her out of here," Tamzen said to the others, though those words were barely out of their mouth before both they and their new compatriots were suddenly pulled away from the temple. "What..." As they couldn't see Yin, it took a long moment to realise that she had bolted, and in the process had pulled them along. Eventually, they came to stop a few feet away from the well. "... ok," they said. They were starting to sound exhausted. This was just too much, and just when they thought they could barely handle any more of this chaos, they spotted the shadow on the ground. Tamzen raised their head up towards the sky, and muttered another halfling curse to themself as they caught sight of the creature. It seemed, despite Whisper's spell, it was still making a beeline towards Yin. "What do we do now?" they asked the others, unable to hide the slowly building panic in their voice.</s>
<\|description\|>Whisper Appearance Whisper is a Kenku; a feathered biped whose wings falter and fail, whose voice dies, and whose dreams of creation are stymied by a divine curse generations in the making. All things considered, he maintains strange cheeriness and aloofness from his circumstances. It's quite impressive for a bird whose body more closely resembles an incorrectly constructed puppet mixed with a leaking water balloon than a living creature. The Bright has cursed Whisper with a form most egregious, indeed; bones protrude from his wings, from his limbs, granting him a shambling and gangling gait- his living motion plagued by discomforting protrusions and difficulties in ambulation. To top it off, most of his face has slipped away- leaving behind skeleton and beak, hollow eyes as black as the first Night gazing ever outward. It is a form contrived of the stuff of nightmares, and it belongs to a very misunderstood creature. Race Kenku Occupation "Death isn't cruel - merely terribly, terribly good at his job." -Terry Pratchett Death's Apprentice - Warlock of the Grim Reaper Memories Whisper's final moments flashed before his lidless eyes yet again. The light. So bright. So all encompassing. Such totality. He could scarcely remember what was there before the light- and yet his mind raced. Yearned. Forced form into being, drawing upon the fragments of power that remained in his spirit as it drifted through the Inbetween. Forgetting who you were was common. Forgetting those you loved came easy. Clinging to the past, to purpose, to people- that is what gives the spirit definition. That is what Whisper sought to do. What caused panic was that the Light seemed to not be satisfied with merely eviscerating his body; it also clung to his very soul. On one hand, regaining his shape came easy. On the other, this unnatural tie was worrisome. There was no time to worry about it right now. Whisper drifted through the darkness of the afterlife, being dragged out from the shadows he knew he belonged, and towards the world of Light once more. As Life rushed to meet Whisper, so too did memory. Blinding light. Definition. Shape. Quadruped, a great wall of muscle- it was the Steed. The horse stamped its hooves. Snorted. Even in the face of this immense danger, it remained aloof Next came its rider, a gaunt figure. Hooded and bestride the great beast, a single skeletal hand gripped the reigns. A resurgence of memory followed that image- definition and tangibility exploding into reality through the Light, bringing with it darkness and tone. Whisper could imagine the feeling of the ground beneath his feet. He could almost taste the air as the scene played out before him. THERE IS NO ESCAPING IT. ALL THINGS MUST END. SO TOO MUST THIS KINGDOM His master's voice was like the closing of coffin lids, a booming tone that echoed from the beginnings of time and spoke of an inevitability that would reach through the future until the end of all things. It was a voice that had once made Whisper shiver, but now brought him calmness. It was the voice of the entity who had gazed upon his wretched form so long ago and given it purpose. FATE'S STRINGS ARE PULLED TAUGHT, MY BOY. HEED MY WORDS AND CARRY THEM WELL. YOU WILL BE TRIED. TESTED. TEMPTED. MEDDLING IS NOT OUR WAY; THE FATES CHOOSE THEIR TOOLS AND WE OBSERVE. THIS, HOWEVER, DISRUPTS THAT ORDER. THE GODS THEMSELVES HAVE SOUGHT TO HIDE IT AWAY. WE WILL NOT BE DENIED SO EASILY. At the time, the words had been hollow to Whisper. Even now as he listens again and again to the words of his Master, his feathers rise and his bones creak. His beak opens- a warning cry of ravens echoing out of his spectral throat. Beyond Death's horse, silhouetted in the light, rose a figure who wielded great power. Death's shadow, born of blackest night and the dreams of the abyss itself, was unwavering in the light even as his physical form was slowly absorbed by the oppressive brightness radiating from that figure. Soon it was all that consumed Whisper's vision. That figure, radiating light. His flesh melting away, his spectral form evaporating in its might. And yet Death's shadow remained, seen walking through the light as carefree as any other day. A final message ringing in Whisper's ears. THIS IS NOT THE END, MY BOY. DEATH IS ONLY A BEGINNING. FORGET NOT YOUR PURPOSE. SET THINGS RIGHT. Whisper relived this memory ceaselessly. Chasing himself and memories of his master through it. Every excruciating moment of death and radiant bane brought with it a relived insight of clarity. Again and again Whisper yearned to grasp onto the Fell energies his master instilled within him and break free of the hold the Light had on him. Time and time again he heard his master's words. When he awoke, finally escaping the cycle of death and life, the final image of a great tower rising behind the silhouetted figure of power had seared itself into his mind. Whatever had happened, whoever that creature was who could temporarily banish Death itself was, Whisper's answers and purpose could be found there. Years ago, there was a thief. Silent as an unspoken idea and deft as a street performer with a spare hand for change. She was damn good at what she did to keep it short, but not good enough to avoid the yearnings of the heart and the ache of loneliness. This thief bore a child- but let us back up a few scenes, shall we? Her name was Bellarmina. However, and you try saying that with a tape recorder that has never had that name recorded upon it, the common name accepted for this thief was Bell. Bell was a damn good thief who was slowing down for some reason, and she would learn why too late; Bell, unbeknownst to herself, was with Child. Ordinarily a wonderful thing (depending on persuasion), but in this case merely a tragic thing. A Witch is someone who is lightly trifled with and usually for only good cause; a Witch in the Bright Lands is a creature best avoided at all costs. Bell crossed one such witch, a heist gone astray leading to blades flying and curses being thrown. Bloodied and ensorcelled, Bell had to flee with the Witch's flying broomstick in hand- and a darkness at work within the child she carried. For the record, Bellarmina tried her best. Truly, she did. Giving birth to a heap of bones and feathers would fray at anyone's sanity, which in these lands is something already quite infirm as it stands, and the struggle to support an infant whose face was truly something only a mother could love in a hostile world helped her regain her edge. But in the end, Bellarmina was in a corner. She kept the broomstick. She abandoned the baby. Leaving it in the wilderness, not capable of ending the wretched thing's life herself, Bellarmina flew away to leave the horribleness behind. Emotionally speaking, that is. What came along later was not some foul creature or mutated beast- but rather the trotting of a large and impressive horse. Its rider pulled out a sheet of parchment, then referenced a broken hourglass in a bony hand. THERE IS ALWAYS SOMETHING, ISN'T THERE? NEVER A SIMPLE DAY OF WORK ANYMORE. IT IS NOT YOUR TIME, LITTLE ONE. When the figure spoke first to Whisper as a child, its timeless boom of a voice made him weep. Being lifted into the skeletal arms of the Pale Horse's Rider, however, brought about a calmness that rivaled the dead. In silence, the wretched Whisper grabbed at the broken Hourglass. YOU MAY KEEP THAT, I SUPPOSE. IT IS YOURS AFTER ALL. Other I intended to add more backstory, but what I consider to be the core idea of the character is present and am debating leaving the rest as 'regained' memories down the line as he 'regains' his power.</s> <\|message\|>Tamzen Silentflight While it was partially obscured by their mask, Tamzen had shot a pretty fierce glare in Graham's direction. The man had completely regarded their concerns, seemingly ignorant of the kind of troublesome position they were in. "Listen," Tamzen said. Had they been able to move, they might have taken a step towards Graham, as if in an attempt to intimidate him. However, their feet remained anchored to where they had first spawned, and instead they could only lean forward slightly to get their point across. "We don't even know if we can fight in our current state, do you really think-" They were cut off suddenly when Whisper spoke again. He chanted each of the group's names in turn, perfectly mimicking the sound of each of their voices. It took all of Tamzen's will not to shudder as hearing their own voice coming out of another's mouth... err, beak. Then the Kenku did something else unexpected. With a flick of his scythe, he enveloped Yin in a shroud of darkness, causing her to disappear completely from sight. Tamzen's body tensed again, only to immediately relax once he realised what had happened. A spell... the Kenku had used a spell to hide Yin. "Magic still works, it seems," Tamzen muttered, more to themself than anyone else. Still, that didn't help them much. Their power didn't come from magic - not in the traditional sense, anyway - but from the energy that runs through all living things, that which some monastic traditions referred to as 'ki'. Tamzen glanced down at their hands, grimacing slightly. If their power was tied to life force, and they were no longer alive, how could they still possibly use it? They didn't have much time to ponder on this however, as a loud piercing shriek sounded from the sky. Tamzen tensed up again. They heard Yin admit that she didn't know how to fight, and they had to resist the urge to mutter another curse. It couldn't be helped. "We need to get her out of here," Tamzen said to the others, though those words were barely out of their mouth before both they and their new compatriots were suddenly pulled away from the temple. "What..." As they couldn't see Yin, it took a long moment to realise that she had bolted, and in the process had pulled them along. Eventually, they came to stop a few feet away from the well. "... ok," they said. They were starting to sound exhausted. This was just too much, and just when they thought they could barely handle any more of this chaos, they spotted the shadow on the ground. Tamzen raised their head up towards the sky, and muttered another halfling curse to themself as they caught sight of the creature. It seemed, despite Whisper's spell, it was still making a beeline towards Yin. "What do we do now?" they asked the others, unable to hide the slowly building panic in their voice.</s> <\|message\|>Graham Douglas "What do we do now?" Graham heard Tamzen ask in panic. "Now we kill it, of course." Graham said as he stowed his bubble pipe and drew his heavy crossbow. "That ugly bitch up there is a Peryton. It's 'ungry for 'earts, and once yer 'eart is on the menu the only way it's gettin' off is by killin' the one what placed the order. If ya got a ranged weapon, start shootin'. If ya got magic use that instead. Normal stuff can still 'urt a Peryton, but not as much as it should. An' if yer invisible, keep it that way. It's senses are keen enough to find ya without bein' able to see ya, but it'll still 'ave trouble gettin' an 'it in if yer invisible." With that said, Graham took aim and fired. Action: Graham attacks the Peryton with his heavy crossbow. He rolls a 13 to hit and a 9 to damage.</s>	<\|message\|>Whisper Whisper's movements were guided by Yin's hasty exodus, and in silence the shrouded spectral kenku observed. He listened. Even his silence has a grave weight to it, which was perhaps aided by the unnerving realization he could- and would- mimic anything said nearby. The shadow of the creature drew Whisper's gaze about, and the kenku's movements were in a languid sort of lethargy as his companions conversed and readied themselves; The bones creaked. The hands tightened. The robes shifted uneasily as the Kenku brought the heavy scythe up in its hands and raised the weapon back. Its ghostly form shifted, moving to the wall that Yin had chosen to hide behind, and prepared itself there; almost as if trying to physically shield the invisible girl from harm. Some part of Whisper's mind clicked its beak at himself; this act was a foolish one, he was no more tangible than a thought. His grip adjusted on the scythe's handles as he considered this, and steeled himself to protect the girl nontheless. He remained utterly silent, even as the time eventually came to swing the Scythe silently through the air in a motion that seemed as practiced as the most skilled farmer's own harvesting technique. --- Mechanics Initiative Roll if required: 11 Held Action even if Whisper's turn comes up before the Peryton's in formal initiative: Attack With Pact Scythe if Peryton Enters Reach [Reminder: Scythe has Reach property, so 10 foot threat area!] Attack Roll: 26: Critical Hit! Attack Damage: 10! Magical Slashing damage</s>
<\|description\|>Graham Douglas Appearance Race: Human Occupation: Thug/Gang Leader Memories: Much of Graham's memories are shrouded in the fog of death, but he remembers bits and pieces and he most certainly remembers his end. He was born into a family on the... well not the rich side of town that's for sure. He doesn't remember whether he was middle class or poor but he does remember joining a gang, the Lamb Street Shanks. Why Graham did this he does not recall. It was either something about family, something about revenge, or something about gold. Whatever the reason, Graham joined the Shanks. Eventually, the Shanks' founder got himself killed, something about a gang war or a guard crackdown, and someone had to take his place. After breaking a few faces and crushing a few windpipes, Graham got the job. When Graham joined, the Shanks' territory barely reached beyond Lamb Street. By the time Graham took the helm, that had not changed. The first thing Graham did was correct that. Graham began a campaign of rapid outward expansion, pushing aside defiant rivals and meddling guards with contemptuous ease as he went. But just as the height of his power seemed to be in his grasp, Graham was met with the one challenge he could not so easily contend with: Those who stood behind him. Paxton Truter, Graham's right hand man, who handled the finer points of wrangling the Shanks while Graham focused on the ambitious broad strokes. After watching Graham work for a time from the position he held at the boss' back, Paxton figured that he could handle both the finer points and the broad strokes easily enough. And so, Paxton went from having Graham's back to stabbing it. But while that would have been the end for most, it was not so for Graham. Instead of moving onto whatever the afterlife had in store for him, Graham's soul found itself bound to a gestalt. This turn of events, though surprising, was certainly not unwelcome. Graham saw it as an opportunity, a chance to track down his backstabbing right hand and reduce him to a bloody stump. All he needed to do was find away to convince Yin and the rest of them to go along with it. Other: In life and in death, Graham carries a curious smoking pipe. Nothing can be placed in the pipe, nor can it be lit. But should someone attempt to use it, the pipe produces bubbles. Graham does not remember how he came upon the pipe, but he does remember that he finds the act of blowing bubbles from it therapeutic.</s> <\|message\|>Tamzen Silentflight When the shortest of the four spirits awoke, their first instinct upon finding themself among these spectral strangers was to get into a defensive stance. While their expression was hidden behind a mask, the distrusting glint in their eyes as their gaze swept over each member of the group was unmistakable. Eventually, their sight rest on the woman asleep on the altar. At the sight of her, the masked spirit felt themselves relax slightly, though they weren't sure why. She was just as unknown to them as the others. However, unlike them, she seemed to be tangible, alive, and not in the best condition due to hunger. A strange feeling of... protectiveness passed over the small spirit and they attempted to approach the woman, only to find they couldn't move. Frustrated, they muttered something under their breath. It sounded like it was in halfling, but even if the other spirits couldn't understand it, they could probably tell it was some kind of curse. It was at this point one of the other spirits, a (seemingly) human woman with an unusual green eyes spoke up, introducing herself to the rest of them as Alsei. The masked halfling glanced at her, scrutinizing her once again. She didn't seem hostile, at least not towards current company. In fact, her sense of urgency and her willingness to be the first to speak up meant that the halfling couldn't help but respect her, even if they still weren't sure if they could trust her. "Tamzen," they grunted in response. "Tamzen Silentflight." They watched as Alsei then started scanning the surroundings in search of something she referred to as 'PAL'. Tamzen followed the woman's gaze towards a shape sitting submerged in the sand that, on closer inspection, appear vaguely humanoid in shape. How had Tamzen not noticed that before? They'd have to be much more alert going forward if they wanted to figure out what was going on.</s> <\|message\|>Whisper It was too bright. The vestiges of power that the Kenku had clung to were beginning to burn away. Memories fragmented- slipped away- disappeared- and with them so too did the power that was granted to Whisper by his Patron and Master. Greatness was stripped from his very soul, power and purpose eradicated in the oppressive light of these Bright Lands... Finally the cycle of death and visions was broken, finally his spirit could try to piece itself back together with the echo of his Master's voice in his mind. and what remained was the shell of Death's Apprentice. A being coalescing of shadows, murky and bestowed of an abyssal gloom, took form in the recesses of the Altar that Yin had lain upon. The wretched form of Whisper- a puppet without strings, bones holding up a shell of skin and feathers, a faceless horror of skull and beak, an eyeless creature ever watching- solidified in this place of darkness and rose from it into visibility. At first it was as if the strange Kenku were asleep, its body somewhat curled in on itself, but in short order the spectral creature unfurled and presented itself to the others. Its robes were dark and heavy, the feathers of a dense and dark cloak blending with his natural plumage where possible- and offering some semblance of coverage for his gangling and strange appearance in others. His arms moved stiffly, the quiet creak of bones apparent in his otherwise languid movements; he raised his arms up and pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head, stifling most of the skull into shadow that left his beak protruding out into the visible strata of light. Quietly, almost purely to himself, the beak parted to utter a phrase in a voice as timeless and as booming as the thudding of tombstones into earth; DEATH IS ONLY A BEGINNING. The hood shifts, attention moving to speaking voices. Feathers rise, danger sensed. An arm reaches out into empty air, a hand only half-covered by flesh and feather stretching and coiling experimentally. Seemingly satisfied, the creature's hand suddenly closed tightly into the air as shadows whirled about its spectral form and coalesced into the form of a large reaping scythe, which it brought about to bear in both hands. Gripping this weapon tightly seemed to bring about an air of comfort to the strange Kenku, and as the hood tilted down to give the impression of a gaze being lowered Whisper appraised the girl on the altar. A weighty inspection. "I think we shall call you Whisper." This time when the Kenku's beak parted, the soft and pleasant tones of a woman's voice slipped from the beak. It occurred to Whisper that he had no recollection of who the voice had belonged to even as the words left his beak. This made his grip on the scythe tighten visibly as he lowered his head further. Damn that insufferable Brightness. He would remember with time... But for now, he resolved himself to protect this girl. Whoever she was, she did not deserve this fate. He decided this suddenly, but he felt secure and comfortable in the resolution. So far, keeping her alive was the only thing that made any sense- and he still remembered enough to know that keeping people alive was most certainly not his ordinary order of business. There was never a simple day of work anymore. --- Mechanical tidbits; Summoned Pact of the Blade weapon, re-flavored 'Halberd' as a Scythe</s> <\|message\|>Graham Douglas One moment, Graham Douglas had been the undisputed master of all he surveyed. The next, he had been bleeding out on the ground, a knife shoved into his back by his traitorous right hand man. And now here he was. Rather than heading off to whatever afterlife was waiting for him, Graham instead found himself in a crumbling temple with with a bunch of other dead people all surrounding a girl who was still clearly alive and sleeping soundly on the temple's altar. Though he was incapable of moving away from where he appeared, Graham had the fortune of appearing within sitting distance of one of the few long chairs that time had yet to break beyond use. As he sat down, Graham heard the others start talking and introducing themselves, so Graham figured he'd get in on that. "Graham Douglas." Graham introduced himself. "By the by, does anyone else 'ave this strange feelin' in the back o' their 'eads that somethin' dangerous is 'eaded this way or is that just death makin' me go a bit loopy?"</s> <\|message\|>Yin As the four were trying to figure out what was going on with their situation, the girl began to rouse. Strangely enough as she was becoming conscious, everyone would feel more mobile. They were able to move around her, though no further than five feet or so. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and looked around. For a moment she seemed shocked. She was quiet and you could all tell she was afraid. Yet at the same time, despite being so much smaller, so much weaker, there was a certain level of defiance within her. As if she was ready to fight despite how hopelessly outmatched she would be. "Who are you all? You're not... Did you just come here? You don't look like the monsters in these lands." Yin gulped. She had no weapons, not even a rock, but her hands were held tightly to her chest as if to protect her vitals. "I'm Yin... Do you all live here?" Whisper would also notice something now that they have awakened mentally. The altar the girl sat upon was dedicated to a certain deity. The name would elude them due to the void in their memories, but off the top of their heads Whisper could remember their had something to do with voyaging and safe passage: sensible things to want in this pastoral coastal ruin. Whisper himself would know that there are similar deities within the realm of death, such as the Ferryman of Souls. Perhaps it was no coincidence that Whisper would awaken here then, in this place meant to guide people to their destination, be it new lands or an afterlife. As for Graham, while most of his memories unrelated to his vengeance are also a blur, something about some of the ruined iconography was familiar. It was strange because the markings weren't anything like what was on the altar. But it would only take a moment for him to remember some cult or religion that was rather notable back in his city that had the tendency to plaster their symbols everywhere, especially in temples. Even if Graham is not a religious man, he would know that such graffiti had one purpose: marking an enemy area as your territory. Perhaps it was no time that brought this temple to ruin after all. That foreboding feeling was still coming. And for some it was heard. Tamzen was able to hear the flaps of a large winged creature: this was no mere bird. Something much bigger, and was moving fast and with purpose. It was uncertain to know if they realized Yin was here but Tamzen could at least recognize some flying creature was approaching the area due north. As for the others, Alsei would only need a short moment to realize that Yin was overly malnourished. Any strenuous physical activity would drain her quickly, and there was no doubt that if anything came by to attack her, her chances of survival was slim. The fact she survived for this long was nothing short of a miracle. PAL would approach, it's body largely functional however many parts of it's chassis and equipment were rusted and in a state of ruin. The flail heads were gone, likely lost underneath the sand, the tabard was eaten away but insects, and the shield was warped and rusted as well. It would take some time to fix PAL back to it's previous state, but it was still functional nonetheless.</s> <\|message\|>Tamzen Silentflight As the other two introduced themselves, Tamzen looked over their new companions once again, eyes lingering on Whisper in particular. They hadn't encountered many kenku in their travels, but they were pretty sure that skeletal, eyeless face was not a common trait. Did it have something to do with how he had died? None of the others showed such severe disfigurements, meaning either the kenku's death had been particularly horrific or there was something else at play here. The halfling didn't have too long to comtemplate what to do about this before the woman on the altar finally awoke. Tamzen turned their head towards her. Just as they were about to open their mouth to answer her queries, however, their pointed ears suddenly pricked up as they became aware of large wingbeats, slowly growing louder and louder. "Something's coming," they said. They pointed northwards. "From over that way." They looked back at Yin. "It appears we are not safe here. Do you know how to fight?" They then glanced at the other members of the group. "Do any of you know how to fight or..." They looked down at their ghostly hands. Could they even fight like this? They weren't even sure if they could move, let alone hit something. They shook their head. "I think we should consider retreating, find a place to hide, get our bearings."</s>	<\|message\|>Graham Douglas From where he was sitting, Graham pulled out his bubble pipe and began 'smoking' it. As he did so, he became aware of a number of eight-pointed stars graffitied all across the temple. Graham was familiar with this type of graffiti. He'd frequently used his own version of it over his many campaigns of underworld conquest at the head of the Lamb Street Shanks. It was the sort of graffiti that was left behind after an attack to let people know just who it was that rolled on through and set fire to everything. Most of the gangs Graham had dealt with hadn't been religious in nature, the closest he'd ever come being some pirates led by a hobgoblin paladin. But even so, Graham had seen these symbols before when he was alive. They belonged to a cult that paid homage to the Bright for power or protection. They never made an effort to oppose him and he had never antagonized them, so Graham didn't know much about them. But he did know that a good portion of the Lamb Street Shanks were also members of this cult. Graham didn't remember there being a quiet costal village near the city he lived in though, so he wondered what these symbols were doing here. Perhaps the cults operation was farther reaching than he thought. Or perhaps they had moved or expanded far beyond the city between Graham's death and now. Either way, Graham put those thoughts aside as Yin woke up and spoke. "Graham Douglas." Graham introduced himself a second time once Yin was done talking. "We just got 'ere through some magical shenanigan or another and were just as puzzled as you are on 'ow that 'appened." When Tamzen mentioned that something was coming and suggested they run and hide, Graham was deeply offended by the notion. "Bugger that!" Graham exclaimed. "If whatever's comin' this way is a threat, I say we kill it!" With that said, Graham put away his pipe, pulled out his crossbow, and readied himself for battle.</s>
<\|description\|>Age \| Gender \| Height \| Weight Student Roster [anime appearance] Nation \| Major \| Specialization Their Story As little and as much as you need to explain the general bits and pieces that made who your character is, how they became recognized as one of the world's best and brightest, and why they've decided to fall in with shady organizations and become a spy. --- Organization: Only the name, please. Current Mission: I'll fill this out in a PM. Secret: I'll fill this out in a PM. Solomon Antedivula 17 y/o \| Male \| 5'10 \| 142 lbs The Nation of the Rose King, France \| Egoism \| Prehensile Blood Solomon was just a poor boy living in a first-generation immigrant's family on the countryside of France. As a child, he worked tirelessly on the sunny hills of the Rose King's domain. Sadly, he was bullied in school for not being into baguettes. One day while he was being bullied, a wandering Mongolian horseback archer came by and took a shine to the kid for a plot-based reason. They taught him the fundamentals of Egoism, exchanged telephone numbers with the lad, and over the course of many years, Solomon telecommuted his Polymath training, having the grit and determination to essentially self-study a wide field of works while also engaging in lots of self-reflection. And then, on his twelfth birthday, he decided that he could do it. With a scalpel, a mirror, and a towel, he carved his first set of Formula upon his back during the early hours of the morning, and was irrevocably changed. Word spread quick of the Self-Made Polymath of Ardennes, and Solomon vibed with that, even though he wasn't really sure what he should do with this outside of training more. But when that same Mongolian mounted archer called him again and offered him a job, Solomon knew. Debts were to be paid, and kindness could not be left unrewarded. Some years later, he secured his position in Bermuda, as an agent of Khan Academy, a "non-profit organization meant to make education available for all." --- Organization: Khan Academy Mission: Befriend the Student Council President, PC 1. Secret: Solomon is actually a double agent. His true allegiance lies with the Greatest Bond, a crime syndicate operating in Germany, who has gained his loyalty by teaching him of the wonders of steamed bread.</s> <\|message\|>Franz Steiner @Click This@Yankee@banjoanjo@Medili --- The dinner party continued as normal. Franz paid full attention to Bang and Nazca's presentations. However, he spent little time thinking about the possibilities they opened up. There was no point in pondering problems he had neither the information or care to solve. The truth of Jeanne's innocence was not a matter Franz cared for at all. But it was still important to be viewed in a light where that was the case, so he would continue eating while feigning a captivated interest. Once Inti had finished, Franz reached for a napkin and politely cleaned around his mouth before addressing Bang and Nazca with a pleasant smile. "You two have certainly made a lot of progress for this investigation. It must be quite time consuming, no? I think it is a noble act to suspend your academic goals in the pursuit of justice. With only a short amount of time, we have not a second to lose of course." Franz turned to Jeanne. "As for my contribution Jeanne, I implore you to mark out the student record as requested by tonight so I may receive it by mail tomorrow morning. My investigation skill pales in comparison to what Bang and Nazca have demonstrated, but I am good with people. That registry will let me know exactly who's door to knock on." Returning to his meal, Franz didn't talk much about the investigation for the rest of the night. Instead, he spent the time with inconsequential small talk until it was time for him to depart back to his accommodations. --- Franz had no plans to skip curfew. After all he had no method to pass by the locking system effectively. Even if such a thing was in his possession, he had no reason to skip curfew. Franz settled for a bit of violin practice before going to bed and getting a good night's sleep. ---</s> <\|message\|>Higashiakemi Ryuuko --- @Click This@Yankee@banjoanjo@Jumbus Ryuuko listened to the others talk while finishing up with her meal. Information were exchanged, some new and some were confirmations of what she already knew. Good progress were definitely made in this first day that marked the start of their investigation. Things remained inconclusive, and a defense still needed to be made... But they still have two more days for that. And besides, there was still time yet to do more today, even in the lateness of night. It was something that Ryuuko had been considering to do depending on what information were discovered by the team. "Alright then. I have an idea of something to do to possibly get us even closer to nailing this thing." Ryuuko grinned wide while pushing her eyeglasses up by the bridge of it with the middle finger of her right hand. "It's pretty obvious, but what the heck I'll state it nonetheless. As we all know, that Robespierre kid's prosecution focus is on making out this whole thing as if it's the fact that Jeanne's the only one that's guilty about what happened. So, we really need to bag this manbat person or at least find more evidences of their involvement with the incidence, thus allowing us to call bull on that kid's primary point of argument." She paused a bit as she considered her next statements. "Now, we also know that this manbat themselves claimed that they're an opportunist... Yes, we don't know exactly what they meant by that, but I feel that we might as well do a gambit by baiting this opportunist with an, well, opportunity. A bait that they will hopefully take. That is to say... I'm going to break the curfew tonight and see if the manbat will show up again or not." "Now, of course, this doesn't necessarily mean there will be a fight or some other such... dramatic happening. To that end, I'm wondering if any of you have an audio recording device that I can borrow. Nazca maybe?" She looked at the Abya Yalan girl as she spoke so, continuing "If not, then even just a camera will do. Anyways, in the end, the point is to collect potential evidences to build our defense... So I am open if anyone have more ideas of what I should do or bring with me while I'm out breaking the curfew. To make the most out of it and such. Or hey... Maybe any of you would like to accompany me on this endeavor? Haha." Ryuuko then sipped on some drink as she finished speaking. However, she soon spoke up again after remembering a certain thing that she had forgotten to mention. "Ah, right. One more thing." She turned to look at Jeanne, giving the Frenchwomen a friendly smile as she addressed her directly "Jeanne, I'd like to ask you to please stay put for tonight. After all, we need to keep you out of trouble for the sake of us all. Surely you understand, yes?"</s> <\|message\|>Yun Hana Hana Yun Hana returned to her room as the evening wore on. It would be good to investigate the island by night, as doubtless several of her fellow polymaths had already, but she was in no hurry to do so. Jeanne's alleged activities of the previous evening didn't have her particularly excited to explore without full preparations. And besides, she had a few things to do during a night in. The first, was calling after one Angelo Beloco. The second, while she was at it, would be getting in touch with Mr. Porter. If he was interested in a collaboration, it was worth arranging things with him, as well. So it was that, some time after dinner, she sat down next to her telephone to ask the operator to connect her. Hopefully, nobody was otherwise engaged at the time.</s>	<\|message\|>Age \| Gender \| Height \| Weight EE 87, May 5 \| Night And thus sounded the blasted bell once more, heralding the lightning that sealed the buildings, the incursion of that all-consuming mist. Ten chimes rang with cacophonous, metered rage, and this time, the sudden locking down of every exit point did not come to a surprise to any of the residents within the isolated island. Now was the time for the night, for clandestine encounters and the advancement of schemes. Within the muted light of the fog-shrouded streets, shadows stirred, pursuing disjointed goals. The dinner party had concluded, dishes scoured and discarded, the guests leaving to do whatever work they wished, or to seek the rest that they believed they deserved. In the end, Ryuuko, seeking adventure and excitement, had left the apartments with Nazca, searching for any sign of the rumoured manbat, leaving Bang to chaperone their fractious charge. Throughout their discussions and studies about what had transpired the night before, Jeanne remained largely mute, only watching them speak and intermittently picking at her food. The Frenchwoman affected once more a sense of uninvolved cool, and despite Franz's request, she had not done more than flip through a few pages of the censored student register before tossing it to a couch. Jeanne herself sat by the window, her eyes squinting against the blinding Formula that made alteration impossible, her gaze drawn to the fog that pressed up against the glass without clouding it over. Nothing was said between the two. It had been two hours now, of this awkward silence, in this suite with no possessions worth distracting one's self with. Perhaps Bang should have brought a book. The operator was quick and efficient, with the sort of manic tone that sounded like someone who had caffeinated properly in preparations for a night shift at the telecommunications center. Within a couple of moments, the line connected to the famed 'Angelo Beloco', and a distorted voice sounded, some sort of device utilized to artificially crack what should be an otherwise stellar connection. "Bermuda Triangle, Classified Section. Who's this?" In the background, opera music vibrated out of a gramophone, warbling tragic tones in a language Hana didn't know.</s>
<\|description\|>Age \| Gender \| Height \| Weight Student Roster [anime appearance] Nation \| Major \| Specialization Their Story As little and as much as you need to explain the general bits and pieces that made who your character is, how they became recognized as one of the world's best and brightest, and why they've decided to fall in with shady organizations and become a spy. --- Organization: Only the name, please. Current Mission: I'll fill this out in a PM. Secret: I'll fill this out in a PM. Solomon Antedivula 17 y/o \| Male \| 5'10 \| 142 lbs The Nation of the Rose King, France \| Egoism \| Prehensile Blood Solomon was just a poor boy living in a first-generation immigrant's family on the countryside of France. As a child, he worked tirelessly on the sunny hills of the Rose King's domain. Sadly, he was bullied in school for not being into baguettes. One day while he was being bullied, a wandering Mongolian horseback archer came by and took a shine to the kid for a plot-based reason. They taught him the fundamentals of Egoism, exchanged telephone numbers with the lad, and over the course of many years, Solomon telecommuted his Polymath training, having the grit and determination to essentially self-study a wide field of works while also engaging in lots of self-reflection. And then, on his twelfth birthday, he decided that he could do it. With a scalpel, a mirror, and a towel, he carved his first set of Formula upon his back during the early hours of the morning, and was irrevocably changed. Word spread quick of the Self-Made Polymath of Ardennes, and Solomon vibed with that, even though he wasn't really sure what he should do with this outside of training more. But when that same Mongolian mounted archer called him again and offered him a job, Solomon knew. Debts were to be paid, and kindness could not be left unrewarded. Some years later, he secured his position in Bermuda, as an agent of Khan Academy, a "non-profit organization meant to make education available for all." --- Organization: Khan Academy Mission: Befriend the Student Council President, PC 1. Secret: Solomon is actually a double agent. His true allegiance lies with the Greatest Bond, a crime syndicate operating in Germany, who has gained his loyalty by teaching him of the wonders of steamed bread.</s> <\|message\|>Nazca Whitehall Nazca WhitehallClockwork Autumn Nazca couldn't help but to show a slight look of surprise as her visitor gave his response and met her gaze. Between her initial impression of the student in his official role, and her colored impression of visitors after the day's events, she had come to expect Maximillien's motives to be far more self-serving than the reality of why he was here. Pissed as she was, if his apology was genuine, she could recognize that he actually showed quite a lot integrity to admit that he was wrong. "I see," she responded simply, settling back into her hospital bed. "It's all water under the bridge now. If it is as you say, neither of us could have expected such an… extreme outcome. Apology accepted… but it is clear that something is still not right with this Jeanne business. It is strange for somebody to be attacked just for being around or looking into her business, if what I have been told is correct. It's a shame that I remember nothing of what happened." At his offer for improving her stay, she glanced at the door. "A nurse and a doctor with a better bedside manner would be pleasant." -- Later in the day, either as a result of her request, or by complete coincidence, she received her last visitor for the day as she nibbled on one of Maximilien's gifted baked goods. Upon hearing that it was a student of medicine, Nazca was quick to give her assent to the arrival of the oriental student. This one she coincidentally recognized, although she had yet to interact with her in any real capacity on the island before now. "Hana Yun, was it? No need to apologize. I can and will appreciate any additional medical expertise. Just being apologized to is a nice change of pace compared to rude students barging into my room demanding things." Yes, she was still salty about James and Bunga. She would be for a while. Her eyes tracked the bottle as Hana revealed the medicine, glancing at the exotic characters on its label as she placed it on her bedside table. Nazca listened intently at her instructions, not caring if the girl seemed to ramble. If it would help her heal from those awful burn wounds, then just being a bit hungrier was no issue. She had a whole basket of food now, anyway. "I see. Thank you for the medicine. I appreciate it," she gratefully replied. "As long as there aren't any other detrimental effects… then I have no real questions. If I do, then I'll be sure to call for you."</s> <\|message\|>Shou Zheng Shou Zheng --- The fading warmth of a setting sun prompted Shou to slowly rise from his seated position. Rather than hole up inside his room, he had returned to it only briefly to begin detailing out the latest addition to the tapestry on his back. Completing it would take some time and further inspiration, and he was in no rush despite the dangers he had encountered last night. Perfection could hardly be rushed, and he could not simply add haphazardly to himself. The ink had to settle, be drawn in and integrated, and connected with the changes he worked upon himself. The majority of his focus had been directed towards recovering from last night's ordeals anyways. Despite the immense amount of food he had consumed during lunch, he could feel his appetite stirring as he slowly started to walk. Minor aches and pains that might have gone unnoticed by non-Egoists were still apparent to Shou, but not concerning enough that he would be absent from tonight's excursion. By the time curfew actually rolled around, Shou was as prepared as he could have been. Well-fed and well-rested after a quick nap in the few hours he had after the sun had set, he rose again with a quick yawn and stretch. He had retrieved his weapon from where he had hid it this morning rather than carry it through the city like some sellsword. Its usefulness was debatable, but it was easy enough to carry around and something of a comfort to have in hand. As the bell tolled once more and heralded the mist's arrival, Shou started to move before it could blanket the entire island. Hopefully they'd actually get to meet up without any incidents; it would hardly bode well if one of them needed saving before they could even get started.</s>	<\|message\|>Age \| Gender \| Height \| Weight EE 87, May 6 \| Curfew Begins Few were there to dine now at Jeanne's place, but the dinner itself took advantage of the free meals hosted to all students within Bermuda and remained as eloquent as always. Nazca had, understandably, remained in the hospital, visiting hours closed and bandages having been changed out during her nightly wipedown. Franz, as if trying to make up for the sheer amount of time he had lost during the day, opted to remain at the ryokan-style apartments. Another one of the students there had fixed up the front doors by then, and he was free to catch up on his personal research and accommodations while chewing on some non-descript one-handed meal. Inti had been missing since yesterday, and no one had bothered to look for the Dynamicist from the Incan Empire. So dinner remained a gorgeous, yet frigid affair. Bang and Jeanne ate in a quiet that clearly indicated something was amiss, and Ryuuko had nothing truly to add beyond speaking of her own post-curfew plans, regardless of what the Vietnamese Egoist had argued about during the morning. In the end, there was nothing that could be done about the Prodigious Dragon and her reckless lust for revenge. It was a small comfort, at least, that she would be with Shou and Valeriya during this, even if their meeting place of choice was vague and ill-defined. Jeanne had no comment to make, and Bang had no task given. There was one more day and one more night before the Frenchwoman would stand trial, but the information that they held remained frustratingly lacking, tied more with obscure abnormalities within this artificial island rather than the matter of the pyromaniac and the man-bat. And when the bones were picked clean, when dessert was served and finished, Ryuuko left, leaving just two alone in the suite meant for one. Jeanne relocated to a seat by the patio, stared out the window, and with her index finger, covered as it was by black leather gloves, began to trace something upon the wooden table before her, content, as it were, to disregard Bang's presence. It would, perhaps, be a long night. Ten bells chimed with discordant sorrow, and the mist fell once more, shrouding the grave-like city in a silence most profound. … Sector 1 – The Inner Circle James's ears were, for the most part, still ringing. If one thought of clocktowers in Bermuda, there really was only one clocktower out there: the one that rang with such ferocity that one's ears hurt even if they were at the very perimeters of the island. Perhaps it was loud enough even to reach the surrounding oceans. And it was that loud, to be inside the clocktower while it rang was a recipe for suffering, even with the proper protections in place. As it stood, his head still ached and there was still a real good chance of permanent hearing loss, but for the time being, the British Polymath wasn't bleeding out from his ears, and now, he was alone at the top of the clocktower. This high above, he was finally able to see the clear night sky that watched over Bermuda every night, the crescent Moon escorted by an entourage of twinkling stars. Even though these were but conceptual illusions, brought about by divine decree rather than by the existence of tangible, celestial objects, there was still something romantic about it. Not, of course, that it mattered. Though he was unable to make out the shape of the ocean, James was able to clearly catch the moment in which the fog rolled in. It had come in with a speed akin to a tsunami, enveloping the city from all sides within the same span of time as the ten tolls of the clocktower's bells. From the ground, it may have appeared slower appeared as if it gradually formed from nothingness, but at his vantage point, it was a swift transformation, a very concrete one. And, as well, he noticed it. Though the fog encompassed all parts of Bermuda, it did not wash over the high walls that separated the Inner Circle from the rest of the academic island, leaving a pocket of clarity. Was this to be a 'safezone' then? The gloom of the clocktower, bereft of any light but a solitary lantern, offered no answers. Machinery whirred and clicked, well-oiled gears spinning with the regularity of a metronome, all of it without the touch of Formulization, and yet, at the top of the clocktower, he could still see nothing. At this point, standing upon the only spot of civilization unclaimed by a fog that hid everything, from saints and sinners to demons and mortals, James felt a creeping loneliness. A loneliness only heightened, when something irregular intruded upon the regularity of a clock's gears. Tip tap. Footsteps sounded, climbing the spiral stairsteps of the freestanding tower. Distant still, but inevitably closing in. Sector 4 – Waterfront Wharf During daytime, this part of Bermuda was one of the liveliest portions of the island. Featuring a small, eclectic display of shops and services, there was a distinctly tropical-festivity feel to the place, with smooth pavement gradually giving away to sand-dusted boardwalks the further east one travelled. Abya Yalan glassbowers would create wonderful sculptures, European clockworkers had entire orchestras held within musical boxes, and Far East chemists mixed up safe but explosively satisfying fireworks. For a place to rendezvous with friends, it was one of the best to be, and for a place where friends met often, the value of a portable, high-quality camera was immeasurable in capturing the fleeting moments of one's youth, the sparse leisure that a Polymath affords themselves. That, however, was during daytime. In the night, the night smothered by the salt-stained fog, silent except for the distant roar of the ocean, the mismatched silhouettes of the eclectic quarters made for a nightmarish display. Streetlamps burned brightly enough to cast everything in a yellowed hue, but even that was a sparse comfort. Franz was but a man. Lucretia had handed off her greatest weapon. And Bunga, their bodyguard, had the infamous distinction of being one of the weakest Egoists within Bermuda. Perhaps the concoctions that James had managed to whip up for her would help even out the odds a bit more, but on the other hand, the biology of each individual Egoist was vastly different. Perhaps the bottles she now had with her were worth less than a placebo. Still, they gathered, a few blocks away from the Atelier du Moor that they sought to stake out. The mist would be omnipresent, by nature, but for now, all that caught the attention of their trained eyes was the spark of Sukoro Jinga's Starsteel Formulizations, emerging upon the few inorganic components that made up this sector's buildings. Time will tell of the fruitfulness of their designs. Sector 8 – Blockscape Ultimately, no matter the strength and durability that the Tsardom's powered armors granted, the black-tinted plates offered not the natural, graceful mobility that any classically-trained Egoist would obtain, and it was decided that Shou and Ryuuko would locate Valeriya outside the testing facility that she would be breaking out of. The two Egoists had met a couple minutes before, Shou armed and Ryuuko ready, and their accelerated steps propelled their forms through the mist at such speeds that it was as if they were bounding ten meters for every step, wind and fog curling off the edges of their clothing as they shot past Brutalist monoliths, their stark shadows cast by fog-piercing fluorescent lights. And then, rounding the corner, they saw it, a silhouette of black. For a moment, Ryuuko's memories of the night triggered, memories of incomprehensible darkness, of impossible conjurations, of the obsidian cocoon that swallowed her companion whole. Had Valeriya already been taken? But no, this had more shape than that, more substance. Tubes and plating, weaponry and containers, The necessary equipment for connection to the Telesma, as well as back-up generators in the form of Steam Cores. And more than that, it was the style of it that made it doubtlessly something of the Occident. It was a style that pronounced terror, the terror of the Tsardom's Armored Infantry, of walking deadmen clad in scorched sarcophagi, wielding gatling coilguns to reap the wheat that was the Fatherland's foes. It was a philosophy that evolved from the study of the French Blast Knights, of metal that brought strength for the man to exercise their malice. It was domination. It was the boot that pressed against the traitor's throat. It was nothing that presented much threat at all to Ryuuko and Shou, though, and the trio all had more things to worry about than whether one of them would betray the others. Namely, how exactly were they to 'investigate' the abnormalities brought out by this fog? Certainly, they wouldn't be so foolish as to replicate the steps that Shou took to be attacked, yes?</s>
<\|description\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE 13 y/o \| Female \| 142cm (4'8") \| 35kg (77lbs) The Iron Sentinel Empire, Germany \| Technologism \| Ferromancy Lucretia Close-up Schwarzritter Close-up Born to House Konigsmahne, one of Germany's most prominent noble families, Lucretia was the youngest of five siblings. It was clear even from the first few years of her life that the white-haired girl was gifted, one of the very few individuals blessed with exceptional intellect, a savant, a genius among geniuses. Not only that, her family had the connections and resources to foster Lucy's talents as soon as possible. The young girl was taught with the best private tutors money could buy and combined with her extraordinary intelligence, it catapulted her development in the academics. Naturally, aside from general knowledge, her studies were focused on learning Technologism, the House's primary major in the art of Formulization. For Lucretia in particular, she had a particularly strong affinity with the element of ferrum, iron. Of course, all of these boons didn't come without a price. As it was common with savants, Lucretia had developmental disorders in the social aspect of things, she didn't get along well with her peers, not that she was a bully or anything, but other children were often put off by how quiet and insensitive she was. She preferred to wrap herself in her own bubble, intensely focusing on her current project, often days on end, stopping only to eat, sleep, and do hygiene stuff. She couldn't read the atmosphere and often came off as brutally honest, speaking pragmatically without heeding the emotions of others. Still, she wasn't an actively malicious person, but humans are social creatures and being able to relate with others is just as - if not more - important as academic prowess. Over the years, she got better... somewhat, through experience and trial and error, she had developed certain 'social protocols' in her head to compensate where she lacked. Regardless, she still preferred to deal with machines instead of people whenever possible. As mentioned before, the noble house she belonged to was quite prestigious, their ancestors were engineers and inventors, Technologist Polymaths, one of the forefront actors that brought about the Scientific Revolution of the Occident. The name "Konigsmahne" could be found in documents detailing the discovery of the steam core, peizogravitas, dreadnought designs, mechanized weapons (panzermensch), and other technological marvels. They too were one of the parties that supported the Enlightenment edict that led to the short-lived Age of Exploration... Then the Futile War came, and it marked the end of House Konigsmahne's golden age. In a loyalty-fueled attempt to support the Occident's war efforts, the house poured massive amount of resources to fight back against the 'savages'. How could they resist Enlightenment in favor of their primitive beliefs? Preposterous, unthinkable, Technologism is the way to the future, not some voodoo nonsense. Alas, in the end, nothing was gained as the war ended in a stalemate, but for the house, it might as well be a crushing defeat. While their finances had recovered over the decades after the war, the stain on their pride was still fresh to this day. Since then, the house never stopped searching for a way to finish what the Occident started, prove to the world that Technologism is the only true path to Enlightenment. To that end, they made alliances with parties that shared their views, one of them being Pax Occidenta, an enigmatic group that operated in the shadows, claiming to be the heralds that'd manifest the destiny of the Occident. The deal was to hand over one of the house's brightest to them, to be their scion, so that with their combined might, they'd bring about Manifest Destiny. This chosen scion was none other than Lucretia. Her first mission? Enroll into the Academic City of Bermuda and await further instructions... Lucretia's Specialization within the Formulization Major of Technologism. While she's able to manipulate the properties of most solid matter like all technologists, she's particularly adept at the element of iron and combined with her gifted intellect, this truly led to extraordinary craftsmanship, especially for someone so young. She had constructed numerous devices over the decade, but none surpassed her masterpiece, Schwarzritter. Schwarzritter takes the form of a curious T-shaped remote-controlled floating drone that's capable of a number of things. It can be used as a personal transport, portable storage, mobile cover, and weapons platform. Its strength and endurance are the equivalent of an iron golem, its central body had slots to store items in, and its two 'arms' contain an automatic assault turret each. It's installed with a Peizogravitas formula to enable buoyancy using electricity gathered from the global electric wireless structure a.k.a the Telesma Network. In the absence of access to said network, it possesses a backup Steam Core generator, enabling it to function at a reduced performance. When not in use, it can fold itself into an inert backpack-shaped object, surprisingly lightweight, making it convenient to carry around. Furthermore, although it's definitely not a living creature, Lucretia considers the drone to be her closest friend, she often talks and refers to it as if it has a mind of its own, like a young girl playing with her doll... except that it's made of metal, and many times her size, and capable of deadly force. --- Organization: Pax Occidenta</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --A Missing Patrician-- After taking care of some private business - and not the bathroom kind of private business - Lucretia made her way back to the Hall of the Greats, accompanied by the unquestioningly-loyal Schwarzritter. She entered the already-opened double doors as clockwork symphony graced her ears once more. Hmmm... now she'd just need to locate Mr. Gharbi and dance with him, yet something was rather off. Common sense would dictate that if he invited her for a dance, then he should be waiting near the entrance for convenience, but it seemed either he was late or she arrived earlier than expected. "Guten Abend, Frau Konigsmahn-..." One of the waitstaff, a German himself, was carrying a tray of sparkling wine in crystal glasses when he recognized the heiress, he tried to greet her only for Lucy to seemingly don't even recognize his existence and just simply walked off. "..." The waiter's polite smile faded into an awkward frown, so what people said regarding her being exceptionally aloof was true, well he just hoped she wasn't singling him out for some reason. Ahaha... yeah, that would be silly, she's just that kind of genius, a shame that the house was using her to further their ambitions though. But eh, what the fuck do I know? These nobles and their politics. In truth, Lucretia really did have nothing against that particular waiter, she was just deep in thought and didn't recognize someone was specifically addressing her, although her usual expression of an indifferent flat stare whether she was thinking or not didn't exactly help her image, Hmmm... well, his forearm was injured, perhaps he decided to rest a bit more before returning here. It made sense and she couldn't fault him for prioritizing his health over a dance, there were always more opportunities in the future anyway. With that deduction in mind, she decided to pick a vacant spot among the many ornate dining chairs. This one just so happened to be quite close to the dancing floor so she could get a good look at what's happening there. Oh, that's Herr Steiner... She saw his dance, a show of energetic twirls, leaps, and footwork. It's certainly rather unorthodox considering the 'high culture' style of the event. He finished off the performance like a ballerina, spinning thrice before ending with a flourish. That must've been difficult to perform. Lucy mused as she made barely-audible claps, the noise overwhelmingly drowned out by the music and cheering around the dance floor. Then Franz seemed to tag someone else to take the stage, a boy with fiery eyes and white hair like hers but further marked by red highlights, wearing a colorful set of Abya Yalan clothes, particularly South Abya Yala it seemed, that poncho was the most distinctive part of the outfit. Lucy didn't know him personally, but he and Franz seemed to be friends. He then proceeded to dance and while Lucy could somewhat recognize that Franz's dance - unorthodox it might be - was distinctly Occidental, especially with the ballerina spin, but this white-haired boy... moved in such a foreign way that Lucy couldn't have any other deductions except that it was an Abya Yalan style. It was enjoyable, although yes, it didn't exactly fit with the music, one didn't need to be an expert dancer to see that. The Abya Yalan boy soon finished his performance and exited the stage, being approached by Herr Steiner again. ...oh. Right, since every student was here right now and she's not doing anything in particular... this might be a good chance to search for this "Egoist Defector" that Franz mentioned, yes, she should do that. Although... with so many students around - even if she narrowed them to just the Egoists - and without further information on this defector's physical attributes, she would be hard-pressed to identify them. It will be a pointless endeavor... I should wait for a reply instead. Yes, indeed, they should be able to provide her with further information. For now, well, she supposed it was time to indulge herself a little. Getting up, Lucy proceeded to procure herself a selection of German sausages and hams: bratwurst, frankfurter, wiener würstchen, and others, then finally garnished with a serving of potato salad and sauerkraut. A small portion of each as she had never been someone who ate much. Her order done, the silver-haired girl went back to her previous chair, sat down, and began consuming her meal in peace.</s> <\|message\|>Shou Zheng --- Shou Zheng --- Alas, the young German's peace wasn't to last for long. The commotion with the lights may have caused a momentary distraction, one that was further lengthened by his conversation with Jeanne, but in the end Shou did return to the laid out feast for another plate of food. He sampled his way from table to table, and the dishes he found to his liking were piled upon the plate. There was no point in returning to an empty table across the hall, and the dance floor seemed like it had finally attracted some attention. He paused when he saw that it was Inti at the center of attention though. It wasn't too odd given how excitable and outgoing the boy had been during their conversation, and despite the clash between his style and the Occidental orchestra, it didn't seem to dampen his enthusiasm much. It was good to see that the other boy was enjoying himself instead of beating himself up over a simple accident at the least. His hands were a bit too full to join the others out on the dance floor at the moment though, and he shuddered a bit as the orchestra continued with its next performance. He preferred his dances a bit more energetic and frantic than this slow-paced swaying. Regardless of his preferences though, they weren't going to matter until he finished eating his full. There were plenty of empty tables by the dance floor as students migrated from one to the other, but he made his way towards a table occupied by one instead. It was a shame that her construct had already been folded back into its compact form though. Testing its stability as a perch would have been fun, if incredibly rude and off putting to the heiress. Then again, given how she apparently had to be protected by another student rather than her own creation earlier? She could have used a few more surprises to help refine her reactions a bit. Like Jeanne had said, the machine currently mattered less than the man wielding it. "Frau Konigsmahne," he called out while still a few feet away from her table. "May I join you for dinner?"</s>	<\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --Ocean Man Cometh-- When within the company of 'less-gifted' teens, Lucretia's unusual behaviour would be as obvious as a floating iron golem charging through a porcelain shop. A thirteen-year-old capable of focusing on a single task to such a degree that one wouldn't be at fault to wonder whether she was truly human or something else, perhaps the Konigsmahne managed to engineer one of those fabled "automatons", a novel concept that couldn't yet be realized even by the best technologists of the Occident... or was it? Perhaps behind the veneer of a young silver-haired teenager lied an advanced set of logic engines capable of self-thought and self-learning, although not perfect, hence explaining the girl's personality. An automaton, really? A polymath automaton at that? Truly a ludicrous conspiracy theory, one that was preposterous enough to gain the ire of Emmerich von Konigsmahne, Lucretia's father and House patriarch, and any German could tell you that being on the rich and powerful noble's bad side wasn't... ideal to say the least. An educated fellow could simply deduce that geniuses often had their own quirks, no? Especially since most - if not all - geniuses gathered here didn't quite have the wisdom to compensate for said quirks with life experience. Lucy was unusual, sure, but so was the student body here, after all what were they if not for the brightest youths on Earth? Regardless, the fact remained that the German Polymath had the social charisma of a brick wall, a fact that no doubt one Shou Zheng would experience firsthand. When the dark-with-red-tint-haired boy's voice reached her ears, Lucy stopped eating, put her fork and knife down, turned her gaze toward him, and blinked once in that specific order. "..." She didn't say anything to him at first, and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out that she was studying him, perhaps digging her memories to associate his likeness to someone she already knew, in the end, it seemed she failed, which meant he was a stranger, a one-sided sentiment considering he already knew her looks and name. A few seconds later, she finally replied, "For what purpose?" She asked bluntly, her flat tone devoid of even the slightest bit of sarcasm or hostility, an absurdly far cry from Mademoiselle Bordeaux. "..." The question was followed by another few seconds of awkward silence before Lucy continued her attempt at 'courtesy', "Perhaps you have business with me, then of course. but first, an introduction is in order, I'm Lucretia von Konigsmahne, and who might you be, sir?"</s>
<\|description\|>Franz Steiner 16 \| Male \| 6'1" \| 75kg Austria \| Mesmerology \| In Development Franz grew up in poverty in a farming town outside Vienna. Not much is to say about it. Everyday was a struggle to keep the essentials and Franz was too young to help out his parents in the labour. However, he did display astounding potential in his academics. From a young age, most subjects he tackled were a breeze. While it was generally chalked up to being a sizeable fish in an incredibly small pond, he eventually garnered the attention from the main city. Vienna is known as a world capital for the arts. Making massive contributions to art, music, and theatre. A pianist from a Vienna academy is one that is unmatched in their skill and grace. When Franz got recruited to study in a Vienna academy, he had thought he would be going to study the violin. But instead he was taken to the Vienna Young Polymath Academy. While the study of Mesmerology is very underdeveloped, the Vienna Young Polymath Academy has made far greater strides than the rest of the world. They view the study of Mesmerology to be more of an art than a science. When it came to the study of it, Franz was almost unmatched. Franz was outclassed in most ways by a noble's son, who had been studying from a far younger age. When it was announced that only one Mesmerologist from the academy would be able to attend the Academic City of Bermuda, Franz poisoned the noble's son. While there was suspicion that Franz had been the poisoner, nothing could be proven. The noble tried taken action against Franz but the academy defended him. As if they valued his ability to subtly harm someone. "There seems to be a notion that people from poverty don't take advantage of their wealthy position. On the contrary, I intend to take every advantage I can." Franz is a born Dyanamicist, however he did not specialize this ability to instead pursue Mesmerology. Franz's main ability is memory manipulation. This is harshly limited by the lack of available literature and the complexity of the subject. Despite Franz being an unmatched academic, he finds himself continuously grasping at straws for the power of this field. He hopes to find more at the Academic city. Franz's ability seems to directly relate to how much understanding he has over the subject's mind. He can affect his own mind with considerable success and, because of their reduced complexity, has shown the ability to affect insect minds. However, Franz seeks to fully understand another person so he may test on them. Above all, Franz seeks to finally crack Mesmerology and attain the power and pretige that comes along with it. In terms of academic achievements, he is one of the top literature and music students in Austria. While he is above average in other subjects like mathematics and science, it is nothing noteworthy. In terms of combat, he is untrained entirely. He had a few rudimentary fencing lessons but he saw no reason in continuing them. Organisation: Vienna Young Polymath Academy A government program to develop espionage agents using Mesmerology.</s> <\|message\|>Age \| Gender \| Height \| Weight With Ryuuko volunteering, it appeared as if this examination would soon be over. Maximilien nodded once, recognizing at a glance the prodigious Egoist who so disdained her own nation, the dragon-girl who had joined Jeanne in her pyromania in the minutes before curfew began. A gazebo had been reduced to cinders, after all. That account was reported only with circumstantial evidence and eyewitness reports, however, and hadn't been worth bringing up. If accomplices wished to watch each other's backs though, the wig-wearing youth had no qualms with letting them both burn. Unfortunately, others seemed more eager to jump into the flames. Franz Steiner, the Universal Genius, revealed his common origins with every word he spoke. Even as the self-proclaimed Mesmerologist approached with increasingly incendiary language, Maximilien's expression did not change. His eyes were mirrors, reflecting a learned apathy towards the outcries of buffoons. Le Bang Kieu, Vietnam's little prince, was at least somewhat reasonable, despite what Abya Yalan theories of justice had infected his mind. The difference of understandings between nations and cultures remained though, of the difference between the justice served upon Technologists and Egoists, of the insignificant value of an impartial jury when it came to any case that involved a Polymath renowned enough to make it to Bermuda. There was a flash of pity, but no response still. Maximilien could see that the boldness of two empowered further speech from more. He had not expected this child, nameless as they were, to posit such a question though. The world was wide, it appeared. Wide enough that even after fifty years, there were still those who did not understand the value that an Egoist presented in such scenarios. Maximilien paused briefly, mind moving at lightning speed to determine how genuine of a question it was, before speaking. "For us who remain human, an Egoist will always be our physical superior. Subsequently, they are the most capable when it comes to reacting, surviving, and suppressing any other Major's attempt at escape." The last one to speak, to volunteer, was unremarkable in both reputation and demeanor. Maximilien fancied Nazca with a nod of acknowledgement, before placing his index finger against the platform upon which Jeanne was marooned. Tracing a pathway through the starscape of the Divine Calculus, he turned stone to sand, the construction sinking lower and lower until the bound woman was on the ground once more. "You have many friends, Du Bordeaux," he spoke quietly, placing all her gear but the flame-spewing claymore into her leather-encased hands. "Give thanks, for the mercy they've shown." Perhaps she too had words to exchange with the Head of the Committee of Public Safety, but Maximilien's gaze was no longer upon her. "It goes without saying that if another incident involving Jeanne occurs during these next three days, all of you who have volunteered will be held jointly responsible. Otherwise, may God grant insight where men are wont to hide. We shall adjourn again upon the afternoon of the 8th." Sensing that nothing else was to happen, the crowd that had gathered dispersed, a few excited at all the extra drama that was tossed in by unexpectedly-involved individual, while others were laughing at the ignorance of outsiders and scoundrels. A cold-blooded murderer defending an habitual arsonist, how novel! If only they hadn't dragged poor Bang with down with them…that was the real pity there. Maximilien himself turned to leave too, measured gait leading him to a tower in the western corner of Bermuda's inner circle. Now, only those who truly cared about Jeanne remained before the ashes of her work. --- Warm waters, crystal-clear and teeming with small fish, enveloped Shou as he dove into ocean that surrounded the artificial island. It was as comforting as any tropical island could be, the sandy beach dissolving into colorful coral. Even the most dangerous of fish were vibrantly colored, a far cry from the deep ocean monstrosities that he was accustomed to encountering in his early years as a sailor. If it was just for the purpose of recreation, this would be a wonderful place for a casual dip into the ocean. But he was not here for that. Five hundred meters off the coast of Bermuda, the gradual deepening of the sea floor underneath dropped off into the true ocean, like encountering a continental shelf. At the same time, Shou could feel a faint electric buzz teasing at his nerves, not painful in any manner, but simply…annoying. Enough so that it could dissuade larger aquatic predators, perhaps. The same sort of technology used by high-end fishing vessels to corral profitable species into the waiting nets of others. It must be what enables such a vibrant collection of species near Bermuda's beaches. If he dug deep enough into the sand, perhaps he would find Steam Core-powered water-quality modulation devices too. There was no sand here though. There was only the deep dark, the waters blackened by the lack of light. So he dove. So he saw. Five hundred meters away from the island of Bermuda proper, with hardly any light at all, it was possible only to make out the barest outline of the mechanical underbelly of the Academic City of Bermuda. How much money had it cost, to create what was essentially an airship the size of a city, equip with massive Steam Cores to perpetually power the Pleizogravitas constructions that kept the entire city buoyant? If Shou had the ability to perceive the Divine Calculus as clearly as his peers, perhaps he too would have become blind. But then, a thought crossed his mind. What could happen if a single Starsteel Sword was introduced here? The island wouldn't even take a minute to sink. … More details had to be determined, and with a flaring of his gills, a tightening of his lungs, the Egoist released a burst of sound. At the depths he could dive, echolocation was the preferred sense, the guiding post to sculpt terrain and detect prey. But the echoes did not reach. Within the waters beneath the great artificial city, his voice did not even vibrate against the border. And thus, another realization, one that explained the lack of any anchor to fix this buoyant island in place. In a 500 meter radius of Bermuda's coast, the ocean water was dead.</s> <\|message\|>Shou Zheng Shou Zheng --- Shou may have had a purpose for diving into the surrounding waters, but he could still appreciate the lively and colorful ecosystem established on the island's shores. He would have expected them to be a bit more barren given Bermuda's recent construction, but there was no telling how long the island had been around while the Academy was built up on it. The tingle made Shou grimace, even as he pushed through the sensation and dove straight down. There was enough light for him to see the end of the cliff face that marked the end of the island. Flipping himself upright as he passed it and squinted into the darkness, he could just barely make out the various constructions built into the island's underside. Even if it was currently too unrefined to use, the sheer amount of electricity being circulated to keep the island afloat made the pathways light up in ways that almost hurt his head. Of course, the island being reliant on that much Formulae was quite the vulnerability, and he couldn't imagine there wouldn't have been some protections built in against sabotage. It would be more expensive to have each Steam Core function independently, but clearly the countries responsible weren't too concerned about expense. If he were a Technologist as well he might have been able to discern any countermeasures to deal with saboteurs, but the entire underbelly of the island was just a thrumming beacon of electricity to Shou. Curious, but he hadn't left his dormitory first thing in the morning to oogle at the sheer cost and scale of Bermuda's construction. As he lingered there by the edge of the island, he cut loose with his echolocation to map out his surroundings. Almost instantly he recoiled a bit from the disappearance of half his created waves. It wasn't as bad as if they had been reflected to him instantly, but their absorption was a bit more unsettling. It was a good thing there was still a bit of light available to him, otherwise it would have been like finding himself right before an abyss! He sent out more waves as he swam downwards, carefully mapping out the exact range of Bermuda's influence on the ocean. Given how the zone began right under the island, he doubted it was a natural phenomenom and likely the work of some piece of equipment. Aside from somehow rendering the water completely still though, he had no idea about its other effects. Would it render him immobile if he tried to swim into it? Spinning his sword around by the strap looped around his wrist, the blade seemed to cut through the water without any resistance as he grabbed onto the handle. He had descended to the point that there was no more sunlight, and his clicks had yet to bounce back to him either. Nothing but ocean water for at least a couple hundred meters around him, and this weird still zone right in front. With a deep breath he swung the sword lazily into the zone and waited for something to happen.</s>	<\|message\|>Franz Steiner No reaction, the boy gave Franz no reaction. Not just being silent, but as if Robespierre was ignoring him. Surely there would be something, Franz thought. He wasn't even particularly defending Jeanne, instead, more commencing a direct attack on Robespierre's character. And still nothing. Although Franz could hide his emotions well, a sense of frustration had taken hold. Robespierre had made an enemy today. Looking around the volunteers, Franz surmised that he may not be the only one. As Robespierre finished his speech, Franz feigned a smile and waved him off from the sandy remains of the stage. "Auf wiedersehen, Herr Robespierre!" Robespierre finished his exit and Franz looked toward the crowd of volunteers. Ryuuko was an obvious volunteer and he wasn't particularly surprised to see her there. Bang was a well-known celebrity and Franz was happy to have his help. Having him so firmly on the same side helped Franz overlook his inability to say 'Steiner'. Franz smiled seeing Inti at the front and volunteering. Frankly, he didn't expect to see the abya yalan boy so soon after the party. Speaking of abya yalan, the final volunteer was Nazca Whitehall. She was an easily recognizable figure, few in the Occident wouldn't have heard of her. A runaway princess adopted into a rich noble's estate is the closest thing to a modern fairy tale you could get. Although the reputation of her Polymath skill had yet to reach Franz's ears. Bang looked in awful health, that was obvious enough. Franz wondered if he would be a suitable guard for someone as dangerous as Jeanne. Still, it was Bang's voice that backed him up when he took the stage. "I am grateful for your help. I am unsure his highness would have retreated if not for your… more levelled approach. I assume I am talking to the famous Le Bang Kieu. My name is Steiner, Franz Steiner." The 'Steiner' was slightly louder and spoken with crystal clear in its pronunciation. Franz reached out for a handshake. That concluded, Franz turned to the still bound Jeanne. He made eye contact before drifting his view to the ashes of the library behind and then back to her. "You seem to be in quite the predicament, Miss Bordeaux. I will not insult your intelligence by claiming my actions are entirely selfless and noble. You know better. However, I am willing to help prove your innocence and even defend you at the trial if need be. The decision to accept is entirely up to you, of course. But other applicants seem to be sparse at best." </s>
<\|description\|>Franz Steiner 16 \| Male \| 6'1" \| 75kg Austria \| Mesmerology \| In Development Franz grew up in poverty in a farming town outside Vienna. Not much is to say about it. Everyday was a struggle to keep the essentials and Franz was too young to help out his parents in the labour. However, he did display astounding potential in his academics. From a young age, most subjects he tackled were a breeze. While it was generally chalked up to being a sizeable fish in an incredibly small pond, he eventually garnered the attention from the main city. Vienna is known as a world capital for the arts. Making massive contributions to art, music, and theatre. A pianist from a Vienna academy is one that is unmatched in their skill and grace. When Franz got recruited to study in a Vienna academy, he had thought he would be going to study the violin. But instead he was taken to the Vienna Young Polymath Academy. While the study of Mesmerology is very underdeveloped, the Vienna Young Polymath Academy has made far greater strides than the rest of the world. They view the study of Mesmerology to be more of an art than a science. When it came to the study of it, Franz was almost unmatched. Franz was outclassed in most ways by a noble's son, who had been studying from a far younger age. When it was announced that only one Mesmerologist from the academy would be able to attend the Academic City of Bermuda, Franz poisoned the noble's son. While there was suspicion that Franz had been the poisoner, nothing could be proven. The noble tried taken action against Franz but the academy defended him. As if they valued his ability to subtly harm someone. "There seems to be a notion that people from poverty don't take advantage of their wealthy position. On the contrary, I intend to take every advantage I can." Franz is a born Dyanamicist, however he did not specialize this ability to instead pursue Mesmerology. Franz's main ability is memory manipulation. This is harshly limited by the lack of available literature and the complexity of the subject. Despite Franz being an unmatched academic, he finds himself continuously grasping at straws for the power of this field. He hopes to find more at the Academic city. Franz's ability seems to directly relate to how much understanding he has over the subject's mind. He can affect his own mind with considerable success and, because of their reduced complexity, has shown the ability to affect insect minds. However, Franz seeks to fully understand another person so he may test on them. Above all, Franz seeks to finally crack Mesmerology and attain the power and pretige that comes along with it. In terms of academic achievements, he is one of the top literature and music students in Austria. While he is above average in other subjects like mathematics and science, it is nothing noteworthy. In terms of combat, he is untrained entirely. He had a few rudimentary fencing lessons but he saw no reason in continuing them. Organisation: Vienna Young Polymath Academy A government program to develop espionage agents using Mesmerology.</s> <\|message\|>Age \| Gender \| Height \| Weight @Yankee@Click This@Medili "I couldn't see the gunman, and the gunman missed all six shots," Jeanne spoke, turning her face towards Bang. "They were low on my list of priorities." As the rest of the table fell into discussion, rumination, and interrogation, the Frenchwoman settled back into her seat once more, letting all the white noise wash over her. By nature, a devilbat Egoist of Occidental origins should have been easy to spot during their month-long flight across the known world, and yet, no one recalled any such individual. Being attacked while chasing another appeared to indicate collusion, but most of the bullets didn't even land anywhere near her. And if the Egoist were an opportunist taking advantage of the scenario that Jeanne had established, what were they hoping to achieve prior to this? It was when Nazca spoke up that the blonde Technologist deigned to speak up again. "Playing at spywork, Miss Whitehall?" Nothing but a light jab. Nothing but a little prodding from the French to the British. Jeanne moved on just as effortlessly, interlacing her fingers and setting them on the table. "And as for your question, Bang, it's simple." Her fingers tightened, clasping together firmly. "Something stalked me within the mists, and when I attacked, something fled in great bounding leaps. Naturally, I pursued." But any Polymath would know that correlation did not imply causation. The case certainly had its share of oddities, of peculiarities. "For the gunman, it's a simple task to show you where the shooting occurred." Perhaps, of all present, only Nazca would understand what Jeanne was doing as she rolled the right sleeve of her shirt back to reveal a flexible, blackened metal chasis beneath, studded with nodes and circuitry. "Formation Pyre," she spoke in French, then directed her gaze outside the window. Against the picturesque sky, it was easy to see. The trail of black smoke, snaking up to the false heavens. Jeanne settled back down, her posture perfect and her facade unperturbed. "One hundred and twenty two meters southwest of that point." @Kumbaris There was no response to either Lucretia or Bunga. Sukoro continued to draw, his pencil gliding smoothly over the canvas, rendering the drawing three-dimensional despite the lack of shading. It was a study, a study of the deathly plant. How its petals peeled away to reveal its bud, how its fibers intertwined to form its body, how the spots and bumps upon it created the sense of a slice of pepperoni or salami. Sweat continued to drip, the Japanese Technologist's robes clinging to his body, his shoulder moving vigorously while his arm was as stiff as the pencil in his hand. And after what seemed to be an eternity, he stopped, placing his pencil onto his thigh and letting out a long hiss through his teeth, his entire body seeming to sink down into itself. Expertly rendered, and yet wholly without expression, his study of the plant was as if through the lens of an impartial creator, neither proclaiming the work good nor bad. His eyes, half-closed turned to the two ladies who had been forced to wait, before his head naturally tilted downwards in an expression of apology. "Pardon me," the young man spoke, his voice scratchy from a combination of thirst and silence, "I was not ignoring you, but rather simply had other matters to handle first. It is a pleasure, Miss Konigsmahne, Miss Kurniawan." He stopped speaking, eyes looking at nothing in particular while he recalled their questions, before continuing. "And yes, I would be happy to provide you with a chest inscribed with my Starsteel Formulization, Miss Konigsmahne. In exchange, could you lend me your Black Knight for a few days, so I may study it?" It was fair, after all. One work for another. Perfectly acceptable... "And yet another apology, Miss Kurniawan, but considering my own circumstances, I've been endeavouring to avoid, rather than socialize with, others. In regards to that particular part of the world, hrm…" He brought one leg up, crossing it over his knee, and leaned his elbow against it while propping his head up with his palm. "…maybe you could ask Mr. Kieu? I heard he was quite the social sort, compared to myself. Honestly, I wouldn't even be able to name a Nusantaran Polymath off the top-of-my-head, so even if I saw them, I wouldn't know them." It made sense again, of course. Japan was notoriously insular as a nation. "I'm doing lovely today, thank you! And yes, such a troubling matter to hear of in the morning. I haven't had the chance to read up on it myself, but, between me and you, I think it's simply wrong for Mr. Robespierre to defend an arsonist and all. I get that's what he's known for but, like, that's basically a shut-and-closed case, isn't it?" The lady shook her head. "Makes me troubled, really. Like, I get that you're all smart and good kids, and the governments that sent you definitely trust you to behave yourselves, but all it takes is one bad Technologist to do something crazy, y'know?" She blinked, and then her face flushed, her hand moving up to cover her mouth. "Oh, I'm so sorry for rambling on like that. It's honestly a terrible habit of mine, but, well, I guess that's to say that I'll do whatever's in my power to help you out with the prosecution!" …there definitely seemed to be a misunderstanding here. Whether Franz chose to correct or maintain this misunderstanding though, was a decision that he'd have to make later. "That being said, I could certainly hotprint Bermuda's currently-enrolled students for you though. It won't have anything that isn't publicly accessible information though, due to privacy concerns, but there'll be photos without a doubt. Just, you know, nothing specific like their addresses or anything else their countries would like to keep private." A slightly awkward smile formed over her expression and she looked off to the side. "…and not all students postured themselves correctly during the photography sessions either, so some of them might look a bit off…" The Swedish lady recovered from that easily enough though, and directed a bright smile towards Franz. "I could have it delivered through the Postal Service to your residence by this evening though. Or is there another location you'd like to receive this, Mr. Steiner?"</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --An Agreement Made-- @ERode "...?" Lucretia merely tilted her head slightly at Bunga's comment about her conduct, what was unproductive about it? In fact, she phrased her question with the express goal of being efficiently productive, no beating around the bush with unnecessary small talks. In relation to that, why would an efficient talk anger Sukoro? He's a fellow Technologist Polymath, and Technologists often adopted engineering philosophies into their craft. If Bunga defined "politely" as wasting time by beating around the bush first, then the Egoist clearly misunderstood the whole thing. However, she was both foreign and non-Technologist so Lucy chalked it up to her being unfamiliar, perhaps things were done differently in her homeland, that was certainly a distinct possibility. Since Sukoro was apparently wholly focused on his work - something Lucretia could genuinely relate to - the white-haired girl took a step back first, not really caring about Bunga's inaccurate assessment of her motivations and behavior. Although, the fox-eared Egoist sure had an incredibly flowery way of speaking, and Lucy found it uncomfortably frustrating. Strangely however, she wasn't this excessively aureate back in the cafe, maybe because both her and Sukoro are Orientals? Something to muse about. Perhaps much to Bunga's disbelief, Lucretia was content to wait for Sukoro to finish his painting, a far cry from her seemingly impatient attitude just now. The petite Polymath sat back down at Schwarzritter's left arm as she watched Sukoro's pencil strokes. Fascinating, he managed to create a monochromatic yet photorealistic sketch of the Rafflesia, a meticulous perfectionism that Lucy knew all too well. It seemed they were more alike than she thought. His sweat-ridden body, parched throat, and strained voice reminded Lucy of an event not too long ago, just this early morning in fact. A part of her was amused that their experience was mutual, but there was one huge difference, he succeeded in his endeavors; no stray birds defecated on his canvas moments before completion. Now that he was done though, she listened to what he had to say. Hmmmm... a curious, yet expected trade offer. Schwarzritter and Starsteel were each Polymath's magnum opus after all. "Knowledge and progress should never be hindered by irrational paranoia, therefore I consider this an equivalent exchange and will accept your offer. However, I must make sure that the chest will have an installed function to repair the Starsteel Formulization should I break it, for both of our conveniences obviously so I won't have to bring the chest back to you each time I solve the puzzle." Lucy nodded, then if Sukoro confirmed that said chest would be inscribed by such function, she'd continue, "In exchange, you may take Schwarzritter under your care. I will register your voice so you may command him as I can."</s>	<\|message\|>Franz Steiner How beneficial that the lady at the desk assumed Franz was the prosecution. Maintaining that assumption could help him gather more needed details. However, it was imperative not to explicitly state he was the prosection. Telling a blatant lie was sure to backfire and harm him in the long run. "It is an unenviable position to be sure, defending someone whom common sense would dictate is guilty. To do such a thing requires great respect for the law. Even if every piece of information is screaming at guilt, you have to stand and give them a fair shot like everyone else. Like fighting a losing battle for someone you don't believe in. It's not for the sake of who you defend, but for the sake of the battle itself." Realising that his eyes were trailing away in his self-aggrandising speech, Franz turned his sight back to eye contact. "I find such a thing to be strangely respectable. But here I am rambling myself as well." Franz reciprocated a smile back. "Nevertheless, I appreciate all your help. I imagine I will need it if I am to oppose Robespierre in an effective manner. Evening delivery to my dorm room would be excellent, having two or three copies of the records would be ideal. Thank you for your work." Franz began leaving the desk but turned back for a final statement. "Who knows, maybe after all this is done the craziness will subside for a while. I'll be sure to send you a bottle of wine or something celebratory in thanks should I be successful at the trial." How troublesome that people are so against the idea of defending Jeanne. It is to be expected given her reputation. But Franz will need to put in excessive work to win this trial once word got out that he was the defendant. He didn't exactly need to win this case. But his ego would not allow him to lose either. He had his work cut out for him and it, unfortunately, would harm his time to study. High risk, high reward. Something deep in Franz' psyche liked that idea. --- Once out of the building, Franz pulled out the clockwork sparrow. He spent little time admiring the intricacies of it because he wouldn't be able to grasp the finer details without considerable time. From the looks of it though, it didn't look as though Franz would be able to follow it effectively. So instead he settled on writing a letter to send back to Nazca and the group. Dear Nazca, I have acquired access to a registry of students in Bermuda, and I am expecting it to be delivered this evening. This should prove valuable in the investigation but will require time to read through. Inform the group that I wish to continue my studies for the rest of the day, but will rejoin you all once the documents have come in. Regards, Franz With some awkward fiddling, Franz managed to get the small message onto the bird and send it into flight. Presumably, it would return to Nazca. Franz began the walk back to the dorms. Hopefully, his pets were not too off-put by the smells of this morning, or the cleaning crew that, hopefully, came in and cleaned the place. He had a long day of study and note-taking ahead of him, a dirty room would disturb that. </s>
<\|description\|>Franz Steiner 16 \| Male \| 6'1" \| 75kg Austria \| Mesmerology \| In Development Franz grew up in poverty in a farming town outside Vienna. Not much is to say about it. Everyday was a struggle to keep the essentials and Franz was too young to help out his parents in the labour. However, he did display astounding potential in his academics. From a young age, most subjects he tackled were a breeze. While it was generally chalked up to being a sizeable fish in an incredibly small pond, he eventually garnered the attention from the main city. Vienna is known as a world capital for the arts. Making massive contributions to art, music, and theatre. A pianist from a Vienna academy is one that is unmatched in their skill and grace. When Franz got recruited to study in a Vienna academy, he had thought he would be going to study the violin. But instead he was taken to the Vienna Young Polymath Academy. While the study of Mesmerology is very underdeveloped, the Vienna Young Polymath Academy has made far greater strides than the rest of the world. They view the study of Mesmerology to be more of an art than a science. When it came to the study of it, Franz was almost unmatched. Franz was outclassed in most ways by a noble's son, who had been studying from a far younger age. When it was announced that only one Mesmerologist from the academy would be able to attend the Academic City of Bermuda, Franz poisoned the noble's son. While there was suspicion that Franz had been the poisoner, nothing could be proven. The noble tried taken action against Franz but the academy defended him. As if they valued his ability to subtly harm someone. "There seems to be a notion that people from poverty don't take advantage of their wealthy position. On the contrary, I intend to take every advantage I can." Franz is a born Dyanamicist, however he did not specialize this ability to instead pursue Mesmerology. Franz's main ability is memory manipulation. This is harshly limited by the lack of available literature and the complexity of the subject. Despite Franz being an unmatched academic, he finds himself continuously grasping at straws for the power of this field. He hopes to find more at the Academic city. Franz's ability seems to directly relate to how much understanding he has over the subject's mind. He can affect his own mind with considerable success and, because of their reduced complexity, has shown the ability to affect insect minds. However, Franz seeks to fully understand another person so he may test on them. Above all, Franz seeks to finally crack Mesmerology and attain the power and pretige that comes along with it. In terms of academic achievements, he is one of the top literature and music students in Austria. While he is above average in other subjects like mathematics and science, it is nothing noteworthy. In terms of combat, he is untrained entirely. He had a few rudimentary fencing lessons but he saw no reason in continuing them. Organisation: Vienna Young Polymath Academy A government program to develop espionage agents using Mesmerology.</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --The Next Step...-- @ERode Lucretia put a hand against her chin as she pondered Sukoro's clarification to her statement; an interesting misunderstanding indeed, if Starsteel didn't just disappear, then why did it do exactly that early morning today? Someone or something must've deactivated them at the source, cut off the electricity powering the Formulization, the tolling bell that happened in tandem was likely correlated. However, it was unsurprising that the Godhand's intention with Starsteel was to delay instead of truly locking something away, which aligned with Lucy's conclusion that to truly secure something, both formulization and mundane measures must be employed simultaneously; Starsteel by itself was designed to stall Technologists, it would accomplish little against an Egoist's brute strength. "I see, induce a blackout of its power and the pattern will reset, understood," The petite polymath nodded, "Agreed, and I will send Schwarzritter your way by tomorrow at the latest." Although she tilted her head at the last bit, "What competition?" the question was spoken with every bit of genuine innocence the German girl could display, but her green eyes lit up merely a second later, A contest to see who can be most swift at navigating the Starsteel labyrinth perhaps? Intriguing... She'd definitely take a look at this competition for sure; she would be sullying the Konigsmahne name if she let herself be humbled by an Oriental at their own game. Apex Technologist prowess rightfully belongs to the Occident after all, particularly Germany. With her business done, she turned away from Sukoro, walking together with the Nusantaran Egoist back where they came from, "Because it's a statement, a challenge, one that I must answer as a Konigsmahne Polymath," Lucretia answered, her voice calm as usual but there was an inkling of pride underneath, "Our House never settle for the average, we strive toward excellence in the pursuit of perfection, a 'tough nut' is no deterrence for us." Bunga could swear that Lucy puffed out her chest with that boast there, what little was there anyway. Perhaps it should've been obvious, but both of them were complete strangers mere hours ago so it'd be justified for Bunga to not know that Lucretia wasn't the type to pursue something that she had no interest, nor obligation to. The answer to her offer was all but written on the wall, "Your happiness is unnecessary because I won't be tagging along with you, Miss Kurniawan." Lucy answered bluntly, yet with that same genuine honesty that she showed to Sukoro, there was no personal feelings attached, "I have other matters to attend, including but not limited to tuning Schwarzritter for Mr. Sukoro. Danke for assisting me in my search." With that she went on her separate ways, sitting on Schwarzritter's arm as the two left the Elysium Conservatory. .......... ..... ... A little later, Lucretia found herself standing sitting before the smoldering ruins of the library. So this is why... This Jeanne du Bordeaux... truly a black sheep of the Occident, a sociopath who was somehow blessed with great intellect, something she clearly didn't deserve. So much knowledge, just... gone, and all for what? Was she making a statement against authority and institutions? Or was it something as shallow as satisfying her pyromania? Some individuals in this world truly boggled her mind, it's as if there was no rhyme or reason to their actions, and Lucy believed that it was literally that for a few, genuinely insane people. Was Jeanne one of them? If only she could've been there to prevent this. With a regretful sigh, Lucretia asked around for a bit, particularly the Bermuda staff stationed around the scene of the arson... It didn't take long for her to receive her next destination, to meet Maximilien Francois Marie Isidore de Robespierre, Polymath, Enforcer, and Head of the Committee of Public Safety. His office should be in the City Administrative Center building, westward from here. Thus, her loyal steel companion carried its mistress there, only putting her down once they have reached in front of the main entrance before furling into its compact form upon her command. Said mistress then entered the multi-story Brutalist-style structure before lining up to meet with the very same Swedish receptionist that a certain Universal Genius charmed a few hours ago. "Guten Tag," Lucy greeted her native tongue before quickly switching to Latin, "I am Lucretia von Konigsmahne, I wish to arrange a meeting with Herr Robespierre regarding the matter of the library's destruction please. It is of utmost importance."</s> <\|message\|>Higashiakemi Ryuuko --- Soon after, the group decided that the time for lunch was over. To the misfortune of Valeriya and Hana, which ended up becoming involved with the entire thing. Ryuuko, on the other hand, was just happy that they've finally left the Japanese restaurant. As for her role in this mismatched group of Polymaths, she had decided to continue "escorting" Jeanne, leaving the investigation of the scene of the shooting and the identity of the Man-bat to the others for now. Along the way, she had noticed and had summarily ignored the whispers and gazes that were directed at Jeanne, Nazca, and herself. She's no stranger to having bad cred, considering most of Japan already saw her in a negative light. The thought brought a small smirk to her face. They'll all see who will have the last laugh. Upon arrival to the Incan-style apartments where Jeanne and Nazca were assigned to, Ryuuko nodded in approval, while also feeling a little bit of envy about it. Would've been a way better place to be assigned to, this. Rather than a dang ryokan... Haaa... She let out a sigh and shook her head briefly. Oh well, at least my roommate's awesome. A saving grace, really. As for the swimming pool and the students currently making good use of it, Ryuuko deliberately paid little attention to them. She'd normally enjoy a good swim at a pool, but at the moment the swimming pool somehow reminded her of "seaweed" and "musty odor" due to what happened to her room back in the ryokan. She really didn't feel like thinking about it. At all. Soon enough, they arrived to the living room of Jeanne's suite. Nazca will be returning to her own suite, and despite some brief hesitation, Ryuuko still managed a small smile and a "Good luck with the photos, Ms. Whitehall. See you around." She had also exchanged her contact info with Nazca (also with some brief hesitation) and the others earlier after Nazca suggested it back in the restaurant. As for Jeanne's mention of wanting to bath alone, Ryuuko replied with a simple "Oh yeah, sure thing. I'll wait here then. Enjoy your bath, Jeanne!" For a moment there, she amusingly misheard Jeanne's word. It almost sounded like "bathing along", which made Ryuuko had to suppress a surprised flinch. Haha, silly me. Of course that's not what she said! She then took a seat to wait until Jeanne finish her bathing. ... Sitting had lasted approximately a minute however, and she soon became quite bored. Thus, she started looking around nosily instead, walking all over the place to see what's in the living room.</s>	<\|message\|>Franz Steiner Once Franz has gotten back to his dorm room, he was displeased to see the smell had not been cleaned up. No matter, he thought, the cleaning crew should be around any time now. It was best that he just thrust his mind into his studies and let them do their job. Another issue that had presented itself was the lack of any acceptable desk. All the tables here were far too low to the ground for Franz' comfort. He must remember to get a proper Occidental desk put in place at the earliest possible time. No matter, he could make do for now and just continue his study. Franz went to his stored belongings and surveyed his spiders while feeding them. Which one would mark his first study in Bermuda? Thor the tarantula was the largest spider of the three and also the most lacking in mental capability, this made him the easiest to produce some results with. But that would be too easy. Freyja the black widow, a size smaller with a greater degree of intelligence posed a larger challenge. Franz' only web spinner leaves at least some physical record once a study is concluded. But no, Franz wanted to start with Loki the fringed jumping spider. Widely regarded as the most intelligent spider breed he was also the smallest of the three. Any progress was hard to make and even harder to see visually. Loki was a tough nut to crack. But Franz welcomed the challenge and wanted to get to work with all the free time he had. Franz placed Loki on one of the low lying excuses for a table and went to grab his violin. The smell hit him again but he tried to put it out of his mind. The staff would take care of it after all. Raising the bow to the strings, Franz prepared to play. But another whiff of the room invaded his senses. No, Franz concluded, he could not wait for the staff to arrive and sort this out. It wasn't just him either. Franz thought he could see that Loki was put off by the smell also. If the spider were to exhibit abnormal behaviour from outside sources during his study, it would ruin his notes. He got up and left the room to ask about getting cleaning supplies. Franz proceeded to spend the next several hours cleaning the room. He was particularly thorough to remove any slight scent of last night's mistake. </s>
<\|description\|>Shou Zheng 15 \| Male \| 5'10, 1.78m \| 234lbs, 106kg The Song Central Empire \| Egoism \| Aquatic Adaptation His Story One of the youngest members of the Ministry, Shou comes from a family of sailors that have served the nation in naval matters for many generations. The high rate of Polymaths among the Zheng family is attributed to descending from a great Sea Serpent in ancient times. Though not all members have served in the Ministry, it's almost certain that they'll find their calling braving the waves of the sea. Despite hailing from one of the older and well established families, Shou's upbringing was never suffocating for him. With generation after generation of successful Polymaths, a sense of personal freedom had become ingrained in the family. Egoism was all about expression of one's self, and trying to force one of their own to reject that and conform? That was something their Esteemed Elder would not stand. However with this freedom came the expectation that they would excel at whatever path they chose though. To that end, they spend time with many tutors from a young age so they may learn of the world and discover what might interest them to devote their studies to. Like many of his family, the sea has called to Shou from a young age and fueled a strong sense of wanderlust. While it's likely he could have found success anywhere given how easily he took to the numerous lessons, he found himself constantly drawn to leave instead. The sparkling waters in the port of his home were far too clear, and he wished to see what laid beyond the horizons and in the murky depths below. The history of such things did not initially interest Shou, but that would change with the event that garnered the Ministry's attention. Nowadays there are few things that can cause entire merchant fleets to sink. The spread and adoption of Technologist materials have led to sturdier ships that can withstand all but the worst of storms. Diplomatic ties among the Orient nations have reduced conflicts on the sea to a fraction of historic highs. The waters patrolled by the various navies typically ensure that whatever inhabits the lightless depths stay out of the way. Typically. While not the lone survivor of the disaster, Shou is one of the few that has deemed capable of returning to civilization. Given the actions of other survivors upon being rescued by nearby Korean ships, it's perhaps unsurprising that he is under watch by the Ministry. Seeing how he's somehow been allowed to travel far from the nation's borders and attend Bermuda? Clearly the Ministry is not of a single intent towards Shou, and he is more than willing to test the limit of the strings placed upon him. His Formulizations Shou's tattoos are made up of seemingly unrelated symbols that are connected only through proximity and currently adorn only his back. Any flow to the collection is far from apparent and most likely something of the viewer's own perception as Shou admits it is mostly done from his gut instinct. Likewise, he does not have a particular method of developing the symbols. Some come to him in dreams while others gradually develop from his observations of the world around him. The dance between a school of fish and a pack of hunters etching itself into his mind for example. The results of his Egoism are also quite clear to see. While he hasn't strayed from his humanoid figure yet, Shou has developed several notable bestial features that clearly mark his branch of Formulization. * Tail: Prehensile and incredibly powerful, this appendage both assists Shou in swimming through the water and functions as a natural weapon. The bony fins at the very end are quite tough and can serve as spikes, allowing the limb to both bludgeon or pierce if necessary. * Finned Ears: Even the ability to see in the dark is not enough at the depths Shou can dive to. In order to make up for that, he has developed the ability to use echolocation in place of vision. The extensions help to capture the returning sound waves. While he lacks lacks the ability to use echolocation out of water, the shift in vocal cords required for echolocation do allow something of a deafening shout if needed. * Ocean Born: The most obvious feature here would be the slits on the front of Shou's neck that serve as gills when he's underwater and the webbed hands and feet that increase water mobility. Some of the other properties include being resistant to pressure and temperature changes, and an increased lung capacity that was leftover from before his gills manifested. * Superhuman Physique: The nature of his changes alongside the training Shou has undergone has put him squarely beyond what a regular human could hope to accomplish. While much of this is simply supernatural, his body itself is also denser, tougher, and stronger. --- Organization: Ministry of Maritime Affairs The 13th Sea</s> <\|message\|>Franz Steiner --- -Arrival- Franz took in the sheer spectacle of Bermuda. The sense of awe he felt in the presence of such displays had only been matched one time before. It was much like his first trip to Vienna. Growing up in some gloomy farm town and arriving in the grand centre of the nation. Now, he stood in the grand centre of the world. His eyes were filled with wonder, while his mouth had a slight bitter taste of the wealth taken to construct it. It was a strange, conflicting set of emotions to be sure. The guided tour was an educational one. Franz never missed the opportunity to ask about landmarks and gain a greater understanding of the entire city. He made a particular mental note about the curfew. 10pm was a reasonable time and he would have no problem following it. But could he gain some advantage from staying past it? Certainly if it were only a fog that stops navigation, himself or most Egoists could still easily navigate it. Even then, most students of Bermuda's caliber wouldn't be held back by a simple fog. There was probably more to it, and he was not about to be the lab rat to find out. The final stop was in front of some daunting, oversized doors. Franz was glad he had asked about opening ceremonies before getting off the air ship. Freya and Thor would have become stressed to no end if they had to endure whatever was on the other side. Another bonus was that he was dressed to the nines from the get go. In all regards, he was ready for this party. --- -A Social Butterfly- The first thing that stood out to Franz was the music. The technological constructs played competently, flawlessly in fact. It was an incredible feat of science that was playing before him. But he couldn't ignore the fact that it was a disservice to the arts. Ask any musician in Vienna and they will tell you that technical excellence is only a fraction of playing compelling music. The 'flaws' are small additions of personality each musician brings to their performance. Although the untrained ear cannot consciously pin point the difference, it is subconsciously noticed by all. Unfortunately, technical excellence is all these constructs could bring to the table. Music was music though, and there was no point in having a sour mood over nothing. Franz knew who he had to enquire about for his mission, but in his mind there was plenty of time. The night was still young after all and he deemed it far more important that he make a good name for himself. There were 2000 students starting attendance, but Franz doubted he would need to learn the names of more than 100 of them. Still, he needed to wade through just about all of them to find out who those 100 people were. Franz approached a waiter carrying a plate of wine glasses, but didn't grab one. "Waiter, this is a place of wonder and mystery to me. Therefore, it would be fitting that I try a wine I have never had before." The waiter paused for a bit before handing him a small glass containing a pink wine. The waiter was correct, Franz had only heard about pink wine through conversation and rumors back home. "Thank you" he replied before dismissing the waiter and giving it a curious sip. It was quite sweet and very palatable compared to the few wines he had tried previously. Franz would have to remind himself of moderation, not that he has struggled with it in the past. The wonder of Bermuda and the excitement of new horizons had made sparking conversation very easy. Franz had found himself occupied with three other students making casual conversation and cracking the occasional joke. One even laughed at his mention of studying Mesmerology, thinking it to be a joke. Franz took no offense of course, the reputation of the profession was well known and he had met plenty of ignorant people before. Franz had his back turned so he didn't see Lucy making a beeline toward him. "Guten Abend, Herr Steiner" Franz spun around to see… nothing. It was only until he tilted his head down that he saw who was addressing him. Lucrieta von Konigsmahne, any German would recognize that family name and that fame would also extend to their Austrian neighbours. Franz was well aware of who she was even before she introduced herself. "Ah, Guten Abend." "I am Lucretia von Konigsmahne, a pleasure to meet you. Would you honor me with a moment of your time?" How curious that a girl of such family prestige would seek out someone like him, Franz thought. Still, he would reply politely and continue the conversation in German. "The pleasure is all mine, frau Konigsmahne." He would take her hand and gently shake it while giving a small bow. "You must forgive me, I am not too well versed in the German etiquette nor that of higher nobility. I do, however, always have time to give to one who speaks the native tongue." --- Mentions: @Izurich</s> <\|message\|>Valeriya Zhukova Valeriya Zhukova Truth be told, she doubted she'd ever get used to this. For an orphan girl from Siberia masquerading as a prodigy adopted by lesser nobility, the trappings of the rich and powerful were still somewhat foreign to Valeriya. Only on the inside, of course. Externally, the blonde engineer merely gave off a bored-looking stare as she followed after her tour group. Even as Valeryia did as best she could to blend in and not stand out overmuch, she still marvelled internally at the sheer opulence of the facilities. Even the dorms were better than anything she'd ever slept in, including the manor of the boyars she'd been actually inserted with both to establish her cover and to reinforce how to act in her assigned role. The idea of a 10 pm curfew was hilarious, though. And she was probably going to violate that sooner rather than later. For her mission if nothing else. Hopefully, whoever she was bunked with would both be tolerable and not ask too many questions. She could work around either or both not being the case, but why ask for hardship if one doesn't need to? ___ God, how were her fellows getting drunk off this literal piss water? Valeriya gave a dissatisfied grimace as she knocked back a glass of rose that was too light and too sweet to be dubbed alcohol. Hell, she doubted there was anything stronger here than red wine. Still, best not to get too drunk at any time here. There were appearances to maintain and secrets to keep. Nonetheless, Valeriya supposed to herself that she should begin socializing. Best to blend in first and make sure her cover was secure before working in earnest towards her assignment. Fortunately, Valeriya had taken full advantage of the dress rooms and rentals to switch into garb more appropriate for high society. Tonight, she wore a simply-designed, yet high-quality long silk dress dyed red, with exposed shoulders and arms. Slightly scandalous, but well-crafted enough and just tasteful enough that she wasn't outing herself as some sort of slattern. A quick glance around the room gave her at least one conversation starter already. She smirked slightly at the...well, she couldn't really tell what nationality he was just from a glance. Definitely from the Middle East or the southern parts of the Orient. Still, good to know someone else couldn't quite stomach the literal grape juice they had on offer tonight. Valeriya sidled up beside what she didn't know was a Mughal, letting a light, casual smirk stay on her face. "I see someone else here cannot stand this...fruit juice either." She remarked in Chinese tinged in a moderate Russian accent. While her Latin was perfect, Valeriya's apparent command of the trade languages was...less so. She could certainly tighten up her diction and lessen her accent, but there was little need to here. Frankly, it would be more odd to see an Occidental this young speak both of the common trade languages with near-native pronounciation, even though she could. "Back home in Russia, this would be regarded as barely worth of being called alcohol. I take it your homeland also prefers stronger beverages?" She inclined her head towards the boy slightly, her smirk softening. "But where are my manners? Valeriya Zhukova. A pleasure." ___ Mentions: @SgtEasy</s>	<\|message\|>Shou Zheng As the tours came to an end, Shou found there was little he could complain about the facilities and accommodations offered by the Academy. He might have grown accustomed to life aboard merchant and naval ships, but he certainly wasn't going to turn his nose up at a bit of comfort and luxury. The weeks spent aboard the Queen Titania had shown he had no trouble sleeping in the softest of beds. With the gentle call of the waves against the sandy beaches in the distance and a slight kiss of salt in the air? There would be no trouble relaxing and enjoying his time spent at the Academy. Diving into the ocean beneath the setting sun might have been his first choice after being cooped up in an airship all the way to Bermuda, but a grand and opulent party wasn't bad either. The barrage to his senses was rather pleasant, and he quickly took in all that the hall had to offer as he stepped inside. Music had never been of much interest to him, and he paid little attention to the symphony as background noise. Instead, his ears twitched a bit as he caught all manners of conversations. While many were spoken in Latin, there were perhaps just as many being carried out in the students' native tongues. While he kept an ear out on the off-chance something important slipped, Shou personally enjoyed the array of scents that filled the hall from the laid out feast. There was plenty of unfamiliar fare to sample and taste, and he started to fill up a plate for himself. If this were a more official ceremony, he may have first changed his clothes like some of the other students had. For a welcome ceremony that the students were supposed to enjoy? Having alterations made to suit him seemed like a waste of time and materials, however small, when he was perfectly comfortable as is. With a well-laden plate in one hand and a pair of glasses in the other, Shou cast his gaze around the hall as he waited for the chef to finish with his last request. Within the crowd of his peers it was easy to see numerous Egoists like himself. 'What do each of them strive for?' He wondered as he looked from one to another. In between them Polymaths of all kinds, geniuses of his generation. It was a bit of a shame their specializations were not so readily apparent. Certainly it would have made his task a lot easier. "Thanks." Leaving his thoughts alone for a moment, he nodded towards the man before finally making his way to one of the tables that lined the walls of the hall. Sipping from one of the glasses, he had to weave a bit here and there as his tail whipped back and forth to slip through the other students without bumping into anyone. The slight fizz and sweetness to the bubbling drink was quite different and nice to what they drank back home. Weaker too if he could barely differentiate the alcohol within from the carbonation. Taking one of the seats that were designed to accommodate an Egoist with a tail such as himself, Shou started eating right away. The Academy had even been thoughtful enough to provide chopsticks alongside the more typical Western utensils.</s>
<\|description\|>Shou Zheng 15 \| Male \| 5'10, 1.78m \| 234lbs, 106kg The Song Central Empire \| Egoism \| Aquatic Adaptation His Story One of the youngest members of the Ministry, Shou comes from a family of sailors that have served the nation in naval matters for many generations. The high rate of Polymaths among the Zheng family is attributed to descending from a great Sea Serpent in ancient times. Though not all members have served in the Ministry, it's almost certain that they'll find their calling braving the waves of the sea. Despite hailing from one of the older and well established families, Shou's upbringing was never suffocating for him. With generation after generation of successful Polymaths, a sense of personal freedom had become ingrained in the family. Egoism was all about expression of one's self, and trying to force one of their own to reject that and conform? That was something their Esteemed Elder would not stand. However with this freedom came the expectation that they would excel at whatever path they chose though. To that end, they spend time with many tutors from a young age so they may learn of the world and discover what might interest them to devote their studies to. Like many of his family, the sea has called to Shou from a young age and fueled a strong sense of wanderlust. While it's likely he could have found success anywhere given how easily he took to the numerous lessons, he found himself constantly drawn to leave instead. The sparkling waters in the port of his home were far too clear, and he wished to see what laid beyond the horizons and in the murky depths below. The history of such things did not initially interest Shou, but that would change with the event that garnered the Ministry's attention. Nowadays there are few things that can cause entire merchant fleets to sink. The spread and adoption of Technologist materials have led to sturdier ships that can withstand all but the worst of storms. Diplomatic ties among the Orient nations have reduced conflicts on the sea to a fraction of historic highs. The waters patrolled by the various navies typically ensure that whatever inhabits the lightless depths stay out of the way. Typically. While not the lone survivor of the disaster, Shou is one of the few that has deemed capable of returning to civilization. Given the actions of other survivors upon being rescued by nearby Korean ships, it's perhaps unsurprising that he is under watch by the Ministry. Seeing how he's somehow been allowed to travel far from the nation's borders and attend Bermuda? Clearly the Ministry is not of a single intent towards Shou, and he is more than willing to test the limit of the strings placed upon him. His Formulizations Shou's tattoos are made up of seemingly unrelated symbols that are connected only through proximity and currently adorn only his back. Any flow to the collection is far from apparent and most likely something of the viewer's own perception as Shou admits it is mostly done from his gut instinct. Likewise, he does not have a particular method of developing the symbols. Some come to him in dreams while others gradually develop from his observations of the world around him. The dance between a school of fish and a pack of hunters etching itself into his mind for example. The results of his Egoism are also quite clear to see. While he hasn't strayed from his humanoid figure yet, Shou has developed several notable bestial features that clearly mark his branch of Formulization. * Tail: Prehensile and incredibly powerful, this appendage both assists Shou in swimming through the water and functions as a natural weapon. The bony fins at the very end are quite tough and can serve as spikes, allowing the limb to both bludgeon or pierce if necessary. * Finned Ears: Even the ability to see in the dark is not enough at the depths Shou can dive to. In order to make up for that, he has developed the ability to use echolocation in place of vision. The extensions help to capture the returning sound waves. While he lacks lacks the ability to use echolocation out of water, the shift in vocal cords required for echolocation do allow something of a deafening shout if needed. * Ocean Born: The most obvious feature here would be the slits on the front of Shou's neck that serve as gills when he's underwater and the webbed hands and feet that increase water mobility. Some of the other properties include being resistant to pressure and temperature changes, and an increased lung capacity that was leftover from before his gills manifested. * Superhuman Physique: The nature of his changes alongside the training Shou has undergone has put him squarely beyond what a regular human could hope to accomplish. While much of this is simply supernatural, his body itself is also denser, tougher, and stronger. --- Organization: Ministry of Maritime Affairs The 13th Sea</s> <\|message\|>Shou Zheng --- Shou Zheng --- Shou had only just dropped his plate off with one of the servers when a sudden shout caught his attention. While not particularly defeaning with the size of the hall, there was a stark difference between the din of casual conversation and a cry of command. The size of the hall would have made finding the cause a bit difficult though if not for the unfurling of a German golem. He watched it form and ready itself with interest through narrowed eyes, and put the thought of food out of his mind for the moment. Instead of trying to slip his way through the students that were drawn to the commotion, Shou took advantage of the opera boxes that lined the second floor. A casual jump gave him enough height to reach the railings that lined each private area, but he did wince a bit as the metal bent underneath his grip. They probably would have crumpled under the impact if he tried to land on them. He turned his attention out towards the rest of the hall quickly though and squinted at the two figures next to the golem. Well, he could only see one of them given the floating construct's bulk, but his posture made it quite clear that there was another held in his arms. The attire narrowed down the possibilities, but without getting a look at the man's face it was hard for him to say who it was. The person being held was quite obviously the Konigsmahne's heir though. Her Schwarzritter could hardly be mistaken for anything else. "Pfft." He couldn't help it, and it's not like there was anyone else up here to hear Shou snort as he realized what had happened. From his perspective he could see the chandelier above with its missing bulb, and the red struck a nice contrast with the student's white clothes. Inti's little demonstration seemed to have done more than just flashbang a poor Egoist, but it was a bit odd. The bulbs weren't particular massive nor made of thick glass. Was he just unlucky or had the injury been planned to garner some sympathy? Hard to say with just a look from afar, and it seemed like the pair were quick to escape from prying eyes. A few moments later and the mess had already been cleaned up by some of the staff. From is vantage point, Shou took the opportunity to scout out the hall a bit further. The change in music seemed to have brought some students out to the dance floor, and it seemed that Inti was among them. No need to return to their table then. With that in mind, he took a moment to stretch his legs as he hopped from one empty box to another. When the next was finally occupied, he descended just as swiftly as he had taken to the second floor. His tail smacked against the floor as a brace after he hopped the railing again, and he smooth his clothes out as he stood. "Ah, hopefully that didn't startle you," he remarked to the blonde he found himself in front of as he bowed briefly. If she had been in any danger of being bowled over by him, Shou would have seen her beforehand he hopped down.</s> <\|message\|>Jeanne du Bordeaux --- Jeanne looked a bit distracted before Shou came, her eyes staring at the sudden commotion by... one of the Germans it seemed. An iron golem, capable of tearing through everyone in this very room in just a blink of an eye. And yet not a single one of these cretins seemed alarmed by the show. Discreetly she started pulling out more buttons from her pockets, putting on on her hand where it disappeared up her sleeve. "Ah, hopefully that didn't startle you." For a moment, just for an instant, her hand full of buttons seemed to click, as a single burning blue light flickered within, turning its blue core straight at Shou, a burning pinprick that seemed to focus on him. The next instant however, it seemed as if that never happened, and as she raised that hand again, it was empty. "Non. But please make jumping in front of people less of a habit." Jeanne glanced towards the iron golem again, to find it has disappeared. "There are those with far less inhibition than me, Monsieur..." She paused, waiting for Shou to give his name.</s>	<\|message\|>Shou Zheng Just Chatting? Jeanne du Bordeaux and Shou Zheng --- With his head briefly bowed, Shou missed the brief flicker of light that bled through Jeanne's fist. By the time he straightened his posture and met her blue eyes, there was nothing seemingly out of place. "Zheng," he introduced himself with a grin. "Shou is fine too if you wish to drop the Monsieur." He tilted his head as he considered her warning for a moment before his lips curled into more of a smirk. "Well, it would make things a bit more exciting. Haven't even found a Technologist willing to put their works to a test yet," he griped with a shake of his head, "granted the Titania wasn't the best site for tests of that sort." Before he continued though, Shou offered out a hand for Jeanna to shake and a chance to intoduce herself in turn. "Jeanne" She gave his hand a brisk shake. "Jeanne du Bordeaux. From your... interesting, appearance, you are an Egoist, no? Careful what you ask for, Monsieur Zheng. Not all have forgotten the war." "You'd think so, but drugs have proved that the body is quite malleable," Shou replied after a measured handshake. "But yes, I am an Egoist like many of my family. I'm sure someone back home would have a fit at the possibility of Technologism replicating our advancements." A glance over his shoulder followed Jeanne's own from moments ago, and he exhaled sharply. "Hard to imagine they have when the Konig's heir has her floating death machine with her. That's not even going into the other militaristic Polymaths among our peers. Though I'm not sure if you would be among them. The stories I've heard about your exploits all seem rather destructive enough to count." Jeanne simply waved those comments away. "Bah, those were but experiments upon which to test out my machines. The machine matters not when it comes to killing, for it is the Man that commits it. The Germans would have you believe the heartless machines would win wars, and parade around ridiculous overengineered machines such as those she brings."There was no question of who she was refering to. "But..." She took a closer look at Shou. "I have heard it took a hundred times what a normal man can take, to kill an Egoist. I cannot deny it would be amusing to see how well you fare against my machines. Tell me, Monsieur Zheng, have you experienced well the knowledge of Technologists while travelling? I've assumed with your form, you have much experience under your belt, even with your age." He supposed the rumors he had heard about her all had carried a sort of derisive tone to them. "Such blunt honesty is refreshing," Shou remarked before he clicked his tongue. "I suppose that might be why she sought out the budding Mesmerologist then. True automation seems unlikely without unlocking the secrets of the mind, and I'm sure the Germans can't wait until they no longer have to dirty their hands with such barbarism." "In my case, I believe it would be dozens," he answered with a confident nod before he took a few moments to consider her question. "Not as much as I would like if we're being honest. With my family's reputation, most law abiding citizens are somewhat reserved when it comes to indulging my desires to test myself. Pirates on the other hand? Well, they don't mind breaking out the lightning guns and power loaders at all!" "Ah... Such experience you have then." Jeanne could barely hold back a smug smirk, trying to suppress it into a small smile but only managing an odd sort of condenscending exression halfway between a grin and a smirk. "I suppose the majority of Technologists are unenlightened brutes such as them. The light of understanding seems to evade quite a lot of people after all. Those pirates you speak of seems no more than unwashed louts barely able to string together a light." Shou on the other hand had no such compulsion and snorted with amusement at Jeanne's expression. "Most of them weren't even Polymaths, just lucky brutes that managed to get some better equipment than their peers. They did put up a bit more of a fight at the least." He rubbed the side of his gut briefly afterwards before he raised an eyebrow. "And what would you be then, Madame? Are you truly enlightened, or seeking the fuel to grow your spark brighter?" It wasn't the first time he had heard something along the lines of what Jeanne espoused. Usually people didn't like hearing that sort of thing either, and the resulting conflict was at least interesting, if not even fun~ Jeanne's smirk grew wider at that. "Who knows? Perhaps I shall be the one to bring the dawn upon the world and have come here to do so. Perhaps I shall do nothing, and remain perfectly content living shrouded in obscurity. Enlightened or a glory hound? Which one do you think I am?" "If you wanted obscurity, you've chosen a very interesting spot to try and achieve that. I'd hate to find out that there was no substance to what you've said as well, so why not both? A bit of fame is warranted for the torchbearer after all." "Reality is often disappointing." Fishing in her pocket, Jeanne pulled out a round button, a domed circle with a flat bottom. It looked like bronze, with a beautiful relief of the morning star upon it, but it would be clear it was made of something similar to porcelain once one held it. She tossed it to Shou. "Here. Find me again after this if you still wish to test yourself against a true Technologist." "All the more reason to try and make things interesting." He caught the small object between his fingers and held it up to examine for a moment. His thumb rubbed against the design embedded onto it before he nodded in response. "Sounds like a plan then. I'll be in touch." With another brief bow, he finally turned away from Jeanne and headed back into the throng of students.</s>
<\|description\|>Shou Zheng 15 \| Male \| 5'10, 1.78m \| 234lbs, 106kg The Song Central Empire \| Egoism \| Aquatic Adaptation His Story One of the youngest members of the Ministry, Shou comes from a family of sailors that have served the nation in naval matters for many generations. The high rate of Polymaths among the Zheng family is attributed to descending from a great Sea Serpent in ancient times. Though not all members have served in the Ministry, it's almost certain that they'll find their calling braving the waves of the sea. Despite hailing from one of the older and well established families, Shou's upbringing was never suffocating for him. With generation after generation of successful Polymaths, a sense of personal freedom had become ingrained in the family. Egoism was all about expression of one's self, and trying to force one of their own to reject that and conform? That was something their Esteemed Elder would not stand. However with this freedom came the expectation that they would excel at whatever path they chose though. To that end, they spend time with many tutors from a young age so they may learn of the world and discover what might interest them to devote their studies to. Like many of his family, the sea has called to Shou from a young age and fueled a strong sense of wanderlust. While it's likely he could have found success anywhere given how easily he took to the numerous lessons, he found himself constantly drawn to leave instead. The sparkling waters in the port of his home were far too clear, and he wished to see what laid beyond the horizons and in the murky depths below. The history of such things did not initially interest Shou, but that would change with the event that garnered the Ministry's attention. Nowadays there are few things that can cause entire merchant fleets to sink. The spread and adoption of Technologist materials have led to sturdier ships that can withstand all but the worst of storms. Diplomatic ties among the Orient nations have reduced conflicts on the sea to a fraction of historic highs. The waters patrolled by the various navies typically ensure that whatever inhabits the lightless depths stay out of the way. Typically. While not the lone survivor of the disaster, Shou is one of the few that has deemed capable of returning to civilization. Given the actions of other survivors upon being rescued by nearby Korean ships, it's perhaps unsurprising that he is under watch by the Ministry. Seeing how he's somehow been allowed to travel far from the nation's borders and attend Bermuda? Clearly the Ministry is not of a single intent towards Shou, and he is more than willing to test the limit of the strings placed upon him. His Formulizations Shou's tattoos are made up of seemingly unrelated symbols that are connected only through proximity and currently adorn only his back. Any flow to the collection is far from apparent and most likely something of the viewer's own perception as Shou admits it is mostly done from his gut instinct. Likewise, he does not have a particular method of developing the symbols. Some come to him in dreams while others gradually develop from his observations of the world around him. The dance between a school of fish and a pack of hunters etching itself into his mind for example. The results of his Egoism are also quite clear to see. While he hasn't strayed from his humanoid figure yet, Shou has developed several notable bestial features that clearly mark his branch of Formulization. * Tail: Prehensile and incredibly powerful, this appendage both assists Shou in swimming through the water and functions as a natural weapon. The bony fins at the very end are quite tough and can serve as spikes, allowing the limb to both bludgeon or pierce if necessary. * Finned Ears: Even the ability to see in the dark is not enough at the depths Shou can dive to. In order to make up for that, he has developed the ability to use echolocation in place of vision. The extensions help to capture the returning sound waves. While he lacks lacks the ability to use echolocation out of water, the shift in vocal cords required for echolocation do allow something of a deafening shout if needed. * Ocean Born: The most obvious feature here would be the slits on the front of Shou's neck that serve as gills when he's underwater and the webbed hands and feet that increase water mobility. Some of the other properties include being resistant to pressure and temperature changes, and an increased lung capacity that was leftover from before his gills manifested. * Superhuman Physique: The nature of his changes alongside the training Shou has undergone has put him squarely beyond what a regular human could hope to accomplish. While much of this is simply supernatural, his body itself is also denser, tougher, and stronger. --- Organization: Ministry of Maritime Affairs The 13th Sea</s> <\|message\|>Franz Steiner --- Franz had left the other boy behind while he went to go grab his jacket. Did he expect his call to action to work? In truth, probably not. Most of the students seemed terrified to take the stage before he danced, and now after his performance, the pressure was probably too much. Franz slung his jacket back over his shoulders then wrapped the tie around his neck. While he was adjusting the tie back into his previously formal look, he turned around with a smug smile on his face. He was expecting an empty floor but was pleasantly surprised. The boy was actually doing it, he had taken to the stage. All things considered, he was not bad either. Franz felt the need to stick around and watch. After all, he had been caught off guard by the boy's bravery. It's not as if Franz showed it though. This had only caused him to raise his eyebrows a bit in surprise. Franz had an image to uphold and he was not about to look outwardly baffled just because of one incorrect assumption. Who was this boy that he would do what no one else in the hall was willing to? Certainly, everyone here was worthy of name recognition. But the name of this boy had never reached Franz. It was an unfortunate reality that news, rumours, and tales are not held equal in the Occident. Franz could probably name every person from the Occident here, the Konigsmahne's fall from grace, the fire include du Bordeaux, and the Oriental defector are all tales he has heard multiple times. But when it comes to the New World, the stories are few and far between. Franz wanted to inquire about this New World boy, but he would not ask the people around him. The best first impressions were made face to face after all. The boy's dancing was humble and clearly improvised. He could see some sort of style and form coming through, but the music certainly didn't fit it. In truth though, it was an enjoyable performance. When Inti was taken outside of his comfort zone, improvisation was used to the flow of the music. It reminded Franz of dancing in his home town. Before rules and strict conduct was a demand for something as natural as dancing. Franz clapped at the end of Inti's dance and caught his attention as he was exiting the floor. "Well done, very well done. I assume you haven't learnt much in the way of Occidental dance, but the confidence was there. Certainly, I don't see anyone else willing to take to the centre." This was probably the first thing Franz had said all night that was entirely genuine. "My name is Franz Steiner, but I have not quite caught your name." He held out his hand as if expecting a hand shake. ---</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --A Missing Patrician-- After taking care of some private business - and not the bathroom kind of private business - Lucretia made her way back to the Hall of the Greats, accompanied by the unquestioningly-loyal Schwarzritter. She entered the already-opened double doors as clockwork symphony graced her ears once more. Hmmm... now she'd just need to locate Mr. Gharbi and dance with him, yet something was rather off. Common sense would dictate that if he invited her for a dance, then he should be waiting near the entrance for convenience, but it seemed either he was late or she arrived earlier than expected. "Guten Abend, Frau Konigsmahn-..." One of the waitstaff, a German himself, was carrying a tray of sparkling wine in crystal glasses when he recognized the heiress, he tried to greet her only for Lucy to seemingly don't even recognize his existence and just simply walked off. "..." The waiter's polite smile faded into an awkward frown, so what people said regarding her being exceptionally aloof was true, well he just hoped she wasn't singling him out for some reason. Ahaha... yeah, that would be silly, she's just that kind of genius, a shame that the house was using her to further their ambitions though. But eh, what the fuck do I know? These nobles and their politics. In truth, Lucretia really did have nothing against that particular waiter, she was just deep in thought and didn't recognize someone was specifically addressing her, although her usual expression of an indifferent flat stare whether she was thinking or not didn't exactly help her image, Hmmm... well, his forearm was injured, perhaps he decided to rest a bit more before returning here. It made sense and she couldn't fault him for prioritizing his health over a dance, there were always more opportunities in the future anyway. With that deduction in mind, she decided to pick a vacant spot among the many ornate dining chairs. This one just so happened to be quite close to the dancing floor so she could get a good look at what's happening there. Oh, that's Herr Steiner... She saw his dance, a show of energetic twirls, leaps, and footwork. It's certainly rather unorthodox considering the 'high culture' style of the event. He finished off the performance like a ballerina, spinning thrice before ending with a flourish. That must've been difficult to perform. Lucy mused as she made barely-audible claps, the noise overwhelmingly drowned out by the music and cheering around the dance floor. Then Franz seemed to tag someone else to take the stage, a boy with fiery eyes and white hair like hers but further marked by red highlights, wearing a colorful set of Abya Yalan clothes, particularly South Abya Yala it seemed, that poncho was the most distinctive part of the outfit. Lucy didn't know him personally, but he and Franz seemed to be friends. He then proceeded to dance and while Lucy could somewhat recognize that Franz's dance - unorthodox it might be - was distinctly Occidental, especially with the ballerina spin, but this white-haired boy... moved in such a foreign way that Lucy couldn't have any other deductions except that it was an Abya Yalan style. It was enjoyable, although yes, it didn't exactly fit with the music, one didn't need to be an expert dancer to see that. The Abya Yalan boy soon finished his performance and exited the stage, being approached by Herr Steiner again. ...oh. Right, since every student was here right now and she's not doing anything in particular... this might be a good chance to search for this "Egoist Defector" that Franz mentioned, yes, she should do that. Although... with so many students around - even if she narrowed them to just the Egoists - and without further information on this defector's physical attributes, she would be hard-pressed to identify them. It will be a pointless endeavor... I should wait for a reply instead. Yes, indeed, they should be able to provide her with further information. For now, well, she supposed it was time to indulge herself a little. Getting up, Lucy proceeded to procure herself a selection of German sausages and hams: bratwurst, frankfurter, wiener würstchen, and others, then finally garnished with a serving of potato salad and sauerkraut. A small portion of each as she had never been someone who ate much. Her order done, the silver-haired girl went back to her previous chair, sat down, and began consuming her meal in peace.</s>	<\|message\|>Shou Zheng Alas, the young German's peace wasn't to last for long. The commotion with the lights may have caused a momentary distraction, one that was further lengthened by his conversation with Jeanne, but in the end Shou did return to the laid out feast for another plate of food. He sampled his way from table to table, and the dishes he found to his liking were piled upon the plate. There was no point in returning to an empty table across the hall, and the dance floor seemed like it had finally attracted some attention. He paused when he saw that it was Inti at the center of attention though. It wasn't too odd given how excitable and outgoing the boy had been during their conversation, and despite the clash between his style and the Occidental orchestra, it didn't seem to dampen his enthusiasm much. It was good to see that the other boy was enjoying himself instead of beating himself up over a simple accident at the least. His hands were a bit too full to join the others out on the dance floor at the moment though, and he shuddered a bit as the orchestra continued with its next performance. He preferred his dances a bit more energetic and frantic than this slow-paced swaying. Regardless of his preferences though, they weren't going to matter until he finished eating his full. There were plenty of empty tables by the dance floor as students migrated from one to the other, but he made his way towards a table occupied by one instead. It was a shame that her construct had already been folded back into its compact form though. Testing its stability as a perch would have been fun, if incredibly rude and off putting to the heiress. Then again, given how she apparently had to be protected by another student rather than her own creation earlier? She could have used a few more surprises to help refine her reactions a bit. Like Jeanne had said, the machine currently mattered less than the man wielding it. "Frau Konigsmahne," he called out while still a few feet away from her table. "May I join you for dinner?"</s>
<\|description\|>Shou Zheng 15 \| Male \| 5'10, 1.78m \| 234lbs, 106kg The Song Central Empire \| Egoism \| Aquatic Adaptation His Story One of the youngest members of the Ministry, Shou comes from a family of sailors that have served the nation in naval matters for many generations. The high rate of Polymaths among the Zheng family is attributed to descending from a great Sea Serpent in ancient times. Though not all members have served in the Ministry, it's almost certain that they'll find their calling braving the waves of the sea. Despite hailing from one of the older and well established families, Shou's upbringing was never suffocating for him. With generation after generation of successful Polymaths, a sense of personal freedom had become ingrained in the family. Egoism was all about expression of one's self, and trying to force one of their own to reject that and conform? That was something their Esteemed Elder would not stand. However with this freedom came the expectation that they would excel at whatever path they chose though. To that end, they spend time with many tutors from a young age so they may learn of the world and discover what might interest them to devote their studies to. Like many of his family, the sea has called to Shou from a young age and fueled a strong sense of wanderlust. While it's likely he could have found success anywhere given how easily he took to the numerous lessons, he found himself constantly drawn to leave instead. The sparkling waters in the port of his home were far too clear, and he wished to see what laid beyond the horizons and in the murky depths below. The history of such things did not initially interest Shou, but that would change with the event that garnered the Ministry's attention. Nowadays there are few things that can cause entire merchant fleets to sink. The spread and adoption of Technologist materials have led to sturdier ships that can withstand all but the worst of storms. Diplomatic ties among the Orient nations have reduced conflicts on the sea to a fraction of historic highs. The waters patrolled by the various navies typically ensure that whatever inhabits the lightless depths stay out of the way. Typically. While not the lone survivor of the disaster, Shou is one of the few that has deemed capable of returning to civilization. Given the actions of other survivors upon being rescued by nearby Korean ships, it's perhaps unsurprising that he is under watch by the Ministry. Seeing how he's somehow been allowed to travel far from the nation's borders and attend Bermuda? Clearly the Ministry is not of a single intent towards Shou, and he is more than willing to test the limit of the strings placed upon him. His Formulizations Shou's tattoos are made up of seemingly unrelated symbols that are connected only through proximity and currently adorn only his back. Any flow to the collection is far from apparent and most likely something of the viewer's own perception as Shou admits it is mostly done from his gut instinct. Likewise, he does not have a particular method of developing the symbols. Some come to him in dreams while others gradually develop from his observations of the world around him. The dance between a school of fish and a pack of hunters etching itself into his mind for example. The results of his Egoism are also quite clear to see. While he hasn't strayed from his humanoid figure yet, Shou has developed several notable bestial features that clearly mark his branch of Formulization. * Tail: Prehensile and incredibly powerful, this appendage both assists Shou in swimming through the water and functions as a natural weapon. The bony fins at the very end are quite tough and can serve as spikes, allowing the limb to both bludgeon or pierce if necessary. * Finned Ears: Even the ability to see in the dark is not enough at the depths Shou can dive to. In order to make up for that, he has developed the ability to use echolocation in place of vision. The extensions help to capture the returning sound waves. While he lacks lacks the ability to use echolocation out of water, the shift in vocal cords required for echolocation do allow something of a deafening shout if needed. * Ocean Born: The most obvious feature here would be the slits on the front of Shou's neck that serve as gills when he's underwater and the webbed hands and feet that increase water mobility. Some of the other properties include being resistant to pressure and temperature changes, and an increased lung capacity that was leftover from before his gills manifested. * Superhuman Physique: The nature of his changes alongside the training Shou has undergone has put him squarely beyond what a regular human could hope to accomplish. While much of this is simply supernatural, his body itself is also denser, tougher, and stronger. --- Organization: Ministry of Maritime Affairs The 13th Sea</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --British Invasion-- "...?" Suddenly for the second time that night, Lucretia was ambushed with absolutely no warning, first by shards of transparent glass and now by a strange white-haired Abya Yalan girl who spoke with a distinctly British accent. Lucy's green eyes blinked a few times, her protocol-directed mind taken unprepared, scrambling to make sense of the abrupt development of the situation, a situation that she abhorred to be in. Indeed, perhaps Shou's recommendation for her to improve her reaction time had merits after all... However, right now, she had to do something. Her brows frowned and the corner of her right eye twitched in frustrated annoyance at the intruder's blatant disrespect of her plans. Right now, the offender's identity, appearance, ethnicity, bearings, and everything else didn't matter in the slightest to the Iron Princess, she could be the Empress of Britannia and it wouldn't erase the fact that she just committed the greatest sin, disrupting her plans. Those shards of glass weren't sentient, they had no motivations to speak of, merely following the whims of gravity, unlike this... this brown-skinned Arschgeige! Lucy's pale lips quivered, her teeth gritting, then just as she was about to open her mouth to hurl some very demeaning authoritative words, Kalil managed to sidestep the trespasser and addressed her directly. The Indian prodigy could swear he heard Lucy sighing like a machine blowing off excess steam as the shorter paler white-haired girl took his dance invitation without a single fuss, genuinely not caring if it seemed rushed and walked with him to the dance floor. Finally, finally she could fulfill her promise and all was right again in the world. @Click This --A Home Away from Home-- Thus the ball ended and despite a few hiccups along the way, the event concluded satisfyingly for most students - save for a certain English polymath perhaps - including Lucretia as she closed the curtains via a dance with Kalil, amateurish it might be, she enjoyed it. Now, it was time to board the trams and retreat to their assigned dorms. The one assigned to her was honestly just fine, a faux medieval castle implemented with all the amenities that the modern age could offer. It was a fine abode for someone of her stature, although Lucy wasn't exactly a snob in terms of demands, the fact that a noble's way of life was all that she knew meant it was her standard, something to be expected, but fortunately for any would-be hosts out there, anything less would simply mean it was an inferior lodging as far as Lucy was concerned, nothing more. The petite silver-haired girl was indubitably dwarfed by the room's sheer scale, even if one would only consider half of it to belong to her, but she was used to such space, whether in the Konigsmahne's manor or her personal workshop. In fact, checking the studies was literally the first thing she did after entering the room, beelining there without delay, not even sparing her Russian roommate so much as a greeting. Twas' of utmost importance as she had specifically ordered for her WIP projects and associated materials to be delivered to her dorm's study. Hmmm... everything seemed to be in order, but there wasn't a way to be sure without opening these containers. "Schwarzritter, aktiviere." She ordered for the drone to unfurl itself to its full size then began ordering it to move the crates around, unstacking them neatly so she could open them and examine its contents. Of course, whether Valeriya cared for such things or not, this task would leave Lucy quite occupied and the Engineer of War would find no ice-breaking conversations from her 'roommate', although the latter half of the word could be debated. Landshark</s> <\|message\|>Valeriya Zhukova Valeriya Zhukova Well, if nothing else, the end of the ball had been a splendid diversion. Valeriya was more than certain she'd cemented herself in the minds of more than a few boys and girls among her peers. Perfect if she ever required connections for one issue or another. Or if she just wanted a different bedmate for a night. Not that the two were separate, of course. Her assigned quarters were...interesting, to say the least. Of all the possible options, a British-style castle wouldn't have been at the top of her list for a place to live. Still, she couldn't complain. It certainly beat her quarters back when she'd been in training at the Ministry. Valeriya's roommate was even more of an unexpected occurrence. What were the odds that she'd be sharing her quarters with one of the more notable students of the lot? And an utter brick wall in social terms, at that? Still, like with the quarters itself, she supposed it could be worse. Lucretia didn't seem inclined to be the first one to speak, so Valeriya supposed she'd have to be the one to start setting ground rules. The Russian hadn't brought too much luggage with her. Well, most of her materials and prototypes were already shipped to Bermuda's armory. So all she really had to unpack were clothes and the tools of her trade. Once those were squared away, she decided it was high time to make some attempt at socializing with the German. At least she had a better handle on the girl's personality, now. "Lucretia," Valeriya approached from across the room. "I thought it best if we establish some boundaries considering we'll be dorming together. I doubt we'll have many issues most of the time. I won't bother you, you won't bother me, though feel free to if you wish. At night, though..." She paused, thinking of how best to phrase this to a thirteen-year old before deciding to simply be blunt. "Occasionally, I may invite other students into the dormitory and into my bed. Even with the partition, there may be some noise at night, and I apologize in advance should that disturb you. If it's too much, I'll make an effort to use the rooms of others instead. And I'll likely be doing so half the time regardless. That's all, really. Any objections?" She paused, smirking as a thought struck her. "Of course, you could always join in, if you were so inclined."</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --The Rowdy Ruski-- When the ponytailed blonde entered one of the four studies of her spacious dorm, she'd find her roommate already kneeling in front of an opened crate, rummaging inside it, Schwarzritter floating near her in all of its T-shaped glory. "Hmmm?" Lucy paused what she's doing when she heard her name being called, the polymath stood up and faced her Russian counterpart. "Yes, Ms. Zhukova?" The silver-haired girl tilted her head a bit, wondering if there was something important enough to warrant interrupting her tidying up. Oh, boundaries, regulations, ja, she wholeheartedly approved. It'd only be convenient for everyone involved if they had clear rules to follow, thus eliminating any ambiguity as to whether something was or wasn't allowed plus the consequences should a violation occurred. Valeriya had Lucy's full attention now. Don't bother one another unless necessary, no problems there, in fact, that should be a given in fact. "I agree." She nodded, so far so good there. However, what came next confused the German prodigy a bit, at least Valeriya's wording made it so. If my deduction is correct... what Ms. Zhukova means is that she'll sometime invite students to this room, guests then? That sounded simple enough, half of the room was hers to do as she pleased anyway, but why did she have to specify about inviting them to her bed? Was it a Russian metaphor for socializing? Well, of course when two or more people are socializing, they'd be producing sounds, voices of conversations in addition to noises produced by whatever activity they'd be doing. "Worry not," Lucretia replied, fully confident that she perfectly understood what Valeriya meant, "One, I can simply cover my ears with sound-absorbent material should the need arise, and two, I'll be working on some of my projects in the study, particularly those that are small enough to not require a dedicated workshop, they'll certainly produce sounds. With these context in mind, I think we'll have no issues." She concluded. The petite girl would already be returning to her rummaging if not for Valeriya's final statement, in which its ironic tone completely flew over Lucy's head, "If it aligns with my interests, then I will participate." She then proceeded to nonchalantly return to kneeling down beside her crate, dainty fingers disappearing into the container. Landshark</s>	<\|message\|>Shou Zheng Thankfully Shou had no need to rely on the tram to arrive at his assigned dormitory at the end of the party. As Hana had promised, the drug's effects hadn't lingered for longer than enjoyable. Thanks had been given for her company, apologies for ruining her conversation, and promises to be fulfilled at a later date. Even if his mind was all cleared up and he knew exactly which tram he was supposed to take, the chance to stretch his legs and get some fresh air wasn't something he would skip. So while other students made themselves comfortable in the spacious and plush seats, Shou made himself a nuisance and climbed around like he had arboreal rather than aquatic features. The tour might have shown them the highlights Bermuda had to offer, but it was something else to get a bird's view of the man-made island. When he closed his eyes he could feel the ocean breeze against his skin and taste the salt-kissed air. It was almost enough for him to head down and take a swim, but the curfew was far too close for him to risk it. So he made his way towards the accommodations he had been assigned when he received his papers down by the docks this morning. Careful leaps and jumps carried him from one chimney to another, or similarly reinforced parts of the rooftops. He'd crashed through enough ceilings before to learn about avoiding the more flimsy sections. Thus the sturdy construction of his accommodations came as a welcome surprise. The many small windows that adorned the building slightly less so. It'd be a tight squeeze, but he could probably still slip his way out. A quick entry through one was probably right out though unless he planned on knocking out the entire window frame. While Bermuda's trams might have been smooth and efficient, there was something to be said about simply ignoring the streets and pathways and cutting one's own path. Even with the pauses to sight see, Shou landed with a heavy thud in the street before the trams. And just because he had gone under the influence once tonight did not mean he had to pass on the opportunity for some less fruity drinks. His belongings were not particularly numerous nor did they need to be unpacked immediately for any reason. All he had to do was freshen up before he retired for tonight. Thus when Kiran did arrive, he'd be met with Shou sitting in the tavern. Balancing his chair somewhat precariously as he munched away at a bratwurst while a mug of dark lager sat on the table before him.</s>
<\|description\|>Jeanne du Bordeaux 18\| Female \| 171cm \| 58kg France \| Technologist \| Energy Furnaces Their Story Energy! Movement! Everything was a form of energy in some way. Food stored energy the body can burn. Fire released energy from wood that it had stored while growing. Even such concepts of heat and cold were simply movements of energy. She found that it was easy to just burn down the flowers by simply attuning a furnace to spit fire from a controlled release valve. Even a lake filled with disgusting fishes was easily purged by simply venting a furnace into its depths. Ah but the people do not understand, and berated her over those. Even her peers shunned her, but that was of no matter for they were but children(literally). People said she mellowed over the years, and her mischiefs were no more. Fie, she would say. Twas not that she was mischievous, but that people simply did not see. Of course, she already had her eyes set upon a target. One that would set her name in stone, echoing throughout history. The sky that mocked them with its brilliance, that defied understanding. Were it not a bowl? A facade that kept them from whatever lies beyond? Was it the gate that held heaven from their grasp? If so, she would be the demon that would tear it down. She would be the one to kick down its doors, look upon the Maker upon his throne and thumb her nose at his Smugness. And what more appropriate to tear down Heaven, than Earth itself. If she was to install a gigantic furnace, and use Earth's very heart as its core, she was certain she could destroy the very veneer that held the skies together, and reveal the truth beyond. But for that, she needed money, man power and materials beyond her current reach, and that was when the Friends came in with open palms, ready to adorn her own with riches. --- Organization: Compagnie d'amis</s> <\|message\|>James Porter --- JAMES PORTER --- James continued through the hall, now more focused on trying to find his target. That little electrical stunt earlier made him wary of the people around him. He looked at all the jubilant faces around him, once again he found himself thinking, 'how nice it must be to be ignorant of the shadows around you.' He moved towards the infirmary, perhaps the shards of glass might've wounded his target. If she was there then it would be no problem. All he'd have to do is wait at the entrance. But with each passing moment, he was beginning to find interest in the people around him. There was that one questionable french woman from earlier, she was making quite the racket. Then there was that smooth talking Mughal and a tiny German girl. There were even people from the New World, Incas and the like. These were all people he saw before bumping into the one Miss Yun. But this diversity made it all the more difficult to find that one person he so desperately needed to fulfill his mission. To make matters worse, it seems more and more people were taking to dancing. 'Damn it, I really don't want to dance, not now. Where the hell is this damned target!?' Lost in his thoughts, he would not realize that in that moment, he would've reached the infirmary and have its doors slam into his face and sending his poor top hat flying once again. "OUCH!-" He quickly subdued his innermost rage and tried to react normally, picking his hat off the floor - again. "Could you please not swing the door like that willy-nilly good sir! That hurt quite a bit!" In that moment, James dignity and pride were hurt. Any other day - any other assignment this would've resulted in a beating, but not here. Not now.</s> <\|message\|>Shou Zheng --- Shou Zheng --- Shou had only just dropped his plate off with one of the servers when a sudden shout caught his attention. While not particularly defeaning with the size of the hall, there was a stark difference between the din of casual conversation and a cry of command. The size of the hall would have made finding the cause a bit difficult though if not for the unfurling of a German golem. He watched it form and ready itself with interest through narrowed eyes, and put the thought of food out of his mind for the moment. Instead of trying to slip his way through the students that were drawn to the commotion, Shou took advantage of the opera boxes that lined the second floor. A casual jump gave him enough height to reach the railings that lined each private area, but he did wince a bit as the metal bent underneath his grip. They probably would have crumpled under the impact if he tried to land on them. He turned his attention out towards the rest of the hall quickly though and squinted at the two figures next to the golem. Well, he could only see one of them given the floating construct's bulk, but his posture made it quite clear that there was another held in his arms. The attire narrowed down the possibilities, but without getting a look at the man's face it was hard for him to say who it was. The person being held was quite obviously the Konigsmahne's heir though. Her Schwarzritter could hardly be mistaken for anything else. "Pfft." He couldn't help it, and it's not like there was anyone else up here to hear Shou snort as he realized what had happened. From his perspective he could see the chandelier above with its missing bulb, and the red struck a nice contrast with the student's white clothes. Inti's little demonstration seemed to have done more than just flashbang a poor Egoist, but it was a bit odd. The bulbs weren't particular massive nor made of thick glass. Was he just unlucky or had the injury been planned to garner some sympathy? Hard to say with just a look from afar, and it seemed like the pair were quick to escape from prying eyes. A few moments later and the mess had already been cleaned up by some of the staff. From is vantage point, Shou took the opportunity to scout out the hall a bit further. The change in music seemed to have brought some students out to the dance floor, and it seemed that Inti was among them. No need to return to their table then. With that in mind, he took a moment to stretch his legs as he hopped from one empty box to another. When the next was finally occupied, he descended just as swiftly as he had taken to the second floor. His tail smacked against the floor as a brace after he hopped the railing again, and he smooth his clothes out as he stood. "Ah, hopefully that didn't startle you," he remarked to the blonde he found himself in front of as he bowed briefly. If she had been in any danger of being bowled over by him, Shou would have seen her beforehand he hopped down.</s>	<\|message\|>Jeanne du Bordeaux Jeanne looked a bit distracted before Shou came, her eyes staring at the sudden commotion by... one of the Germans it seemed. An iron golem, capable of tearing through everyone in this very room in just a blink of an eye. And yet not a single one of these cretins seemed alarmed by the show. Discreetly she started pulling out more buttons from her pockets, putting on on her hand where it disappeared up her sleeve. "Ah, hopefully that didn't startle you." For a moment, just for an instant, her hand full of buttons seemed to click, as a single burning blue light flickered within, turning its blue core straight at Shou, a burning pinprick that seemed to focus on him. The next instant however, it seemed as if that never happened, and as she raised that hand again, it was empty. "Non. But please make jumping in front of people less of a habit." Jeanne glanced towards the iron golem again, to find it has disappeared. "There are those with far less inhibition than me, Monsieur..." She paused, waiting for Shou to give his name.</s>
<\|description\|>Yun Hana 14 \| Female \| 156.4 cm \| 50.2 kg Korea \| Egoism \| Drug Factory Hana's past is something she keeps mostly to herself, although the picture she paints isn't one of any lineage of greatness nor that of singular genius. She's just one of many among her peers to get the nod for the academy. Her family was relatively well off, and tied to Korea's imperial government, working in Seoul. She's part of a fresh generation who is growing used to some of the conveniences of from foreign powers brought in after the Futile War. Her hometown was the first to benefit from electricity, after all. Influenced by the opening of Korea's borders 50 years ago, Hana's school of egoism has taken to experimenting with a technologist influence, leaning toward mad science, or adapting technologist principles to their own bodies. She adapted her body to enact a rather literal approach to internal alchemy: she's essentially turned herself into a living chemical plant. These sort of activities did catch the attention of the Ministry of Rites, mostly because it showed a marked break from well-established tradition. The implications of Hana's own approach didn't go unnoticed, either, and soon, she was encouraged to continue, under the auspices of a very small and specific branch of the ministry's diplomacy department. She seems to play up the "mysterious oriental" angle more than some, if only to entertain herself. Nothing quite like either confirming everyone's most bizarre misconceptions, or suggesting the reality's even stranger. Setting any ulterior motives aside, she's definitely excited to be here and see what everyone else is bringing to the table (and take careful notes, of course). Hana's tattoos take an artful form, spiraling away from a central core at her back to flow across the rest of her body, spiraling around her limbs like vines. Much of Hana's skin is smooth, hairless, and appears glistening with moisture, like some sort of amphibian's. Some patches even show bright color patterns reminiscent of poison dart frogs, notably along the back of her neck, and (blending in with the tattoos) her back. Some (or all) of her hair is also an unnatural color, and she dyes it black to remain inconspicuous. Hana's sweat and salivary glands have been extensively altered to help her emit the various substances she produces within her body. Her internal organs have also changed extensively; should one cut her open, they'd probably find all manner of strange, altered, or new bits. Hana can create chemicals in her body, and can apply them internally to herself, or emit them as a liquid or gas. While she is more agile than a normal person, most of her focus on her egoism is in developing new drugs to make or uses for the ones she can manufacture, and not on improving her sheer physicality. She can generate the following: A drug to temporarily enhance strength and reaction time. A chemical that accelerates healing by increasing cellular regeneration. A universal antidote that can stop the action of poisons or other drugs. Hallucinogens Neurotoxin Anesthetic Pheromones that arouse specific emotions --- Organization: Seocheon Flower Garden</s> <\|message\|>Valeriya Zhukova Valeriya Zhukova Kiran's eyes widened at Valeriya's forwardness, but certainly, there were less pleasant individuals to be accosted by than a Russian lady with lips that tasted of alcohol. The two students fell into the room a couple more steps before he found his footing. For a novelist celebrity nerd who tinkered with machinery, the Icelandic youth was well-built, the muscles of his back wonderfully solid beneath Valeriya's grip. A moment later, they broke off, his free hand pushing against her shoulder. "Had thought you were a more proper type," he said. "Nazca's forwardness inspired you?" Though he played it cool enough, there was nevertheless a little bit of red tinging the tips of his ears. Even through the rush of her teenage hormones, Valeriya retained enough presence of mind to notice Shou leaving them in peace. Good. It wouldn't help much if the situation did turn violent, but it'd give her enough of a head start, at least. "Oh, please." She scoffed as Kiran broke the kiss off. "I was like this on the ship, too. Now," Valeriya adjusted her grip, keeping Kiran's pocketed hand locked as she reached for his free hand with her other arm, shoving him against the wall and leaning in close as if to kiss him again. "This should be a good enough time to talk business." Valeriya kept her voice low enough to not be overheard should Shou stick around. "You noticed, then. What were you going to do about it?" She smiled. "What I'm to do now," Kiran grinned. He stepped in, lips pressing against Valeriya's again, before his foot tangled with her own and she found herself falling against the desk, right by the half-deconstructed tracker. "Is your interest personal or professional, Val?" "It can't be a bit of both?" She smiled coyly, seeming unbothered. "Our work is in largely the same field, after all. Why wouldn't I want to get to know a competitor better?" Screw it, enough suspense. Time to see what he was hiding. Valeriya yanked on Kiran's wrist, aiming to pull out whatever he was grabbing on to. At this point, she was actually half-hoping it was a weapon, just so they could get on with it already. "Shocking ambiguity for such a forward woman." Kiran didn't resist as Valeriya pulled his hand out of his pocket. The hand opened up to reveal an empty palm. Empty? Or was it something too small to see? "I'd be more willing to share my work if you'd simply asked, from one peer to another. But with all this…must say I'm feeling a bit greedy now." "If you'd wanted to sleep with me, all you had to do was ask, really. I would have penciled you in." Valeriya smirked, hooking her other foot around Kiran's leg before using her grip to flip him onto the nearby bed. "Still, if you're going to be difficult, I'm obliged to be so in return." She raised a hand, resting it on her bosom as the other reached into her pocket. "I'm only really interested in one of your Formulization blueprints, and not your most famous work. Name your price." The two bounced upon the mattress once, the springs creaking at the impact. Kiran ran his hand down a strand of Valeriya's hair. "My homeland is one of treacherous beauty and grand vistas, but what I've found lacking, always, is how small the land is." A pause, his gaze drifting down to Valeriya's own bosom, before he raised his eyes again. There was a fervent flame in his aquamarine irises, the 'spark' that possessed the gaze of all Polymaths. "I'm an adventurer, not a businessman, so…Unrestricted travel through the northern regions of the Tsardom. Can you arrange that?" The flame burned greedily in the fireplace. Voracious now, an undercurrent of the primitive violence that one needed to venture into the untamed places of the world. "And, if you are what I've figured you to be, would it be too much to ask of you to kill that French bitch?" Well. This was…a unique request. Her handlers wouldn't quite be pleased that she'd been practically made already, but if this achieved the mission parameters, so be it. Besides, unrestricted didn't mean unmonitored. The upside with letting a known foreigner into your territory was that you knew he was there, and could take measures appropriately in case he tried something. Besides, Agnarsson was a known traveler, so there was always the small chance this could just be innocuous. Still, this was something Valeriya figured she could swing by her superiors. "I can speak to some friends within the border guard, certainly." Valeriya smiled thinly, moving to unbutton Kiran's shirt. "As for the Frenchwoman, I'm an engineer, not an assassin." She lied without blinking. "As much as she annoys me too, I'm not about to do something that blatant." Not unless she was ordered to, anyway. "Now, if you'll hand over the blueprints, we can move on to the actual fun part." "And I'm sure you're not a spy either, Miss Engineer of War." Kiran winked, tapping his index finger against his temple. "I'll draw out my designs for you after, if you don't mind. Otherwise, the fire may burn out before we even begin." "I'm in the Tsar's pocket, certainly, but not in that way." Valeriya pouted and denied the accusation. "But, fine." She leaned in, moving to kiss Kiran again. For the rest of the night, not much was said. Shou certainly was going to have something to talk about later.</s> <\|message\|>Franz Steiner @Click This@Yankee@banjoanjo@Medili --- The dinner party continued as normal. Franz paid full attention to Bang and Nazca's presentations. However, he spent little time thinking about the possibilities they opened up. There was no point in pondering problems he had neither the information or care to solve. The truth of Jeanne's innocence was not a matter Franz cared for at all. But it was still important to be viewed in a light where that was the case, so he would continue eating while feigning a captivated interest. Once Inti had finished, Franz reached for a napkin and politely cleaned around his mouth before addressing Bang and Nazca with a pleasant smile. "You two have certainly made a lot of progress for this investigation. It must be quite time consuming, no? I think it is a noble act to suspend your academic goals in the pursuit of justice. With only a short amount of time, we have not a second to lose of course." Franz turned to Jeanne. "As for my contribution Jeanne, I implore you to mark out the student record as requested by tonight so I may receive it by mail tomorrow morning. My investigation skill pales in comparison to what Bang and Nazca have demonstrated, but I am good with people. That registry will let me know exactly who's door to knock on." Returning to his meal, Franz didn't talk much about the investigation for the rest of the night. Instead, he spent the time with inconsequential small talk until it was time for him to depart back to his accommodations. --- Franz had no plans to skip curfew. After all he had no method to pass by the locking system effectively. Even if such a thing was in his possession, he had no reason to skip curfew. Franz settled for a bit of violin practice before going to bed and getting a good night's sleep. ---</s> <\|message\|>Higashiakemi Ryuuko --- @Click This@Yankee@banjoanjo@Jumbus Ryuuko listened to the others talk while finishing up with her meal. Information were exchanged, some new and some were confirmations of what she already knew. Good progress were definitely made in this first day that marked the start of their investigation. Things remained inconclusive, and a defense still needed to be made... But they still have two more days for that. And besides, there was still time yet to do more today, even in the lateness of night. It was something that Ryuuko had been considering to do depending on what information were discovered by the team. "Alright then. I have an idea of something to do to possibly get us even closer to nailing this thing." Ryuuko grinned wide while pushing her eyeglasses up by the bridge of it with the middle finger of her right hand. "It's pretty obvious, but what the heck I'll state it nonetheless. As we all know, that Robespierre kid's prosecution focus is on making out this whole thing as if it's the fact that Jeanne's the only one that's guilty about what happened. So, we really need to bag this manbat person or at least find more evidences of their involvement with the incidence, thus allowing us to call bull on that kid's primary point of argument." She paused a bit as she considered her next statements. "Now, we also know that this manbat themselves claimed that they're an opportunist... Yes, we don't know exactly what they meant by that, but I feel that we might as well do a gambit by baiting this opportunist with an, well, opportunity. A bait that they will hopefully take. That is to say... I'm going to break the curfew tonight and see if the manbat will show up again or not." "Now, of course, this doesn't necessarily mean there will be a fight or some other such... dramatic happening. To that end, I'm wondering if any of you have an audio recording device that I can borrow. Nazca maybe?" She looked at the Abya Yalan girl as she spoke so, continuing "If not, then even just a camera will do. Anyways, in the end, the point is to collect potential evidences to build our defense... So I am open if anyone have more ideas of what I should do or bring with me while I'm out breaking the curfew. To make the most out of it and such. Or hey... Maybe any of you would like to accompany me on this endeavor? Haha." Ryuuko then sipped on some drink as she finished speaking. However, she soon spoke up again after remembering a certain thing that she had forgotten to mention. "Ah, right. One more thing." She turned to look at Jeanne, giving the Frenchwomen a friendly smile as she addressed her directly "Jeanne, I'd like to ask you to please stay put for tonight. After all, we need to keep you out of trouble for the sake of us all. Surely you understand, yes?"</s>	<\|message\|>Yun Hana Hana Yun Hana returned to her room as the evening wore on. It would be good to investigate the island by night, as doubtless several of her fellow polymaths had already, but she was in no hurry to do so. Jeanne's alleged activities of the previous evening didn't have her particularly excited to explore without full preparations. And besides, she had a few things to do during a night in. The first, was calling after one Angelo Beloco. The second, while she was at it, would be getting in touch with Mr. Porter. If he was interested in a collaboration, it was worth arranging things with him, as well. So it was that, some time after dinner, she sat down next to her telephone to ask the operator to connect her. Hopefully, nobody was otherwise engaged at the time.</s>
<\|description\|>James Porter 18 \| Male \| 5'7" \| 149 lbs Empire of Britannia \| Dynamicism \| Chemical Assassin Their Story Kidnapped at the age of 7, James was trained in her Majesty's new Military Intelligence project codenamed: "Good Little Deeds". There he was taught to speak multiple languages, handle firearms, and become one of the brightest minds among Britannia's citizens. His original purpose was to infiltrate into foreign nations and gather intelligence and conduct sabotage missions. However, he had a particular talent for brewing poisonous gaseous solutions. This talent was deadly when paired with his use of Dynamicist formulations. At first, his potent poisons were simple and needed a lot of setup before they could be deployed without risk of towards himself. That was of course until he studied a little bit of Technologism. His major talent still lied within his fine dynamic control, however, altering the specifics of his poisons with Technologistic formulations were key to his continued success. His missions from the day of his recruitment to his current assignment have been his life. He has no childhood, no parents that he can remember (or cares to remember), and no real friends. However, he still has many of his years ahead of him and life can change in a hearbeat, his story has only yet begun. --- Organization: Institute of Good Little Deeds</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --British Invasion-- "...?" Suddenly for the second time that night, Lucretia was ambushed with absolutely no warning, first by shards of transparent glass and now by a strange white-haired Abya Yalan girl who spoke with a distinctly British accent. Lucy's green eyes blinked a few times, her protocol-directed mind taken unprepared, scrambling to make sense of the abrupt development of the situation, a situation that she abhorred to be in. Indeed, perhaps Shou's recommendation for her to improve her reaction time had merits after all... However, right now, she had to do something. Her brows frowned and the corner of her right eye twitched in frustrated annoyance at the intruder's blatant disrespect of her plans. Right now, the offender's identity, appearance, ethnicity, bearings, and everything else didn't matter in the slightest to the Iron Princess, she could be the Empress of Britannia and it wouldn't erase the fact that she just committed the greatest sin, disrupting her plans. Those shards of glass weren't sentient, they had no motivations to speak of, merely following the whims of gravity, unlike this... this brown-skinned Arschgeige! Lucy's pale lips quivered, her teeth gritting, then just as she was about to open her mouth to hurl some very demeaning authoritative words, Kalil managed to sidestep the trespasser and addressed her directly. The Indian prodigy could swear he heard Lucy sighing like a machine blowing off excess steam as the shorter paler white-haired girl took his dance invitation without a single fuss, genuinely not caring if it seemed rushed and walked with him to the dance floor. Finally, finally she could fulfill her promise and all was right again in the world. @Click This --A Home Away from Home-- Thus the ball ended and despite a few hiccups along the way, the event concluded satisfyingly for most students - save for a certain English polymath perhaps - including Lucretia as she closed the curtains via a dance with Kalil, amateurish it might be, she enjoyed it. Now, it was time to board the trams and retreat to their assigned dorms. The one assigned to her was honestly just fine, a faux medieval castle implemented with all the amenities that the modern age could offer. It was a fine abode for someone of her stature, although Lucy wasn't exactly a snob in terms of demands, the fact that a noble's way of life was all that she knew meant it was her standard, something to be expected, but fortunately for any would-be hosts out there, anything less would simply mean it was an inferior lodging as far as Lucy was concerned, nothing more. The petite silver-haired girl was indubitably dwarfed by the room's sheer scale, even if one would only consider half of it to belong to her, but she was used to such space, whether in the Konigsmahne's manor or her personal workshop. In fact, checking the studies was literally the first thing she did after entering the room, beelining there without delay, not even sparing her Russian roommate so much as a greeting. Twas' of utmost importance as she had specifically ordered for her WIP projects and associated materials to be delivered to her dorm's study. Hmmm... everything seemed to be in order, but there wasn't a way to be sure without opening these containers. "Schwarzritter, aktiviere." She ordered for the drone to unfurl itself to its full size then began ordering it to move the crates around, unstacking them neatly so she could open them and examine its contents. Of course, whether Valeriya cared for such things or not, this task would leave Lucy quite occupied and the Engineer of War would find no ice-breaking conversations from her 'roommate', although the latter half of the word could be debated. Landshark</s> <\|message\|>Valeriya Zhukova Valeriya Zhukova Well, if nothing else, the end of the ball had been a splendid diversion. Valeriya was more than certain she'd cemented herself in the minds of more than a few boys and girls among her peers. Perfect if she ever required connections for one issue or another. Or if she just wanted a different bedmate for a night. Not that the two were separate, of course. Her assigned quarters were...interesting, to say the least. Of all the possible options, a British-style castle wouldn't have been at the top of her list for a place to live. Still, she couldn't complain. It certainly beat her quarters back when she'd been in training at the Ministry. Valeriya's roommate was even more of an unexpected occurrence. What were the odds that she'd be sharing her quarters with one of the more notable students of the lot? And an utter brick wall in social terms, at that? Still, like with the quarters itself, she supposed it could be worse. Lucretia didn't seem inclined to be the first one to speak, so Valeriya supposed she'd have to be the one to start setting ground rules. The Russian hadn't brought too much luggage with her. Well, most of her materials and prototypes were already shipped to Bermuda's armory. So all she really had to unpack were clothes and the tools of her trade. Once those were squared away, she decided it was high time to make some attempt at socializing with the German. At least she had a better handle on the girl's personality, now. "Lucretia," Valeriya approached from across the room. "I thought it best if we establish some boundaries considering we'll be dorming together. I doubt we'll have many issues most of the time. I won't bother you, you won't bother me, though feel free to if you wish. At night, though..." She paused, thinking of how best to phrase this to a thirteen-year old before deciding to simply be blunt. "Occasionally, I may invite other students into the dormitory and into my bed. Even with the partition, there may be some noise at night, and I apologize in advance should that disturb you. If it's too much, I'll make an effort to use the rooms of others instead. And I'll likely be doing so half the time regardless. That's all, really. Any objections?" She paused, smirking as a thought struck her. "Of course, you could always join in, if you were so inclined."</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --The Rowdy Ruski-- When the ponytailed blonde entered one of the four studies of her spacious dorm, she'd find her roommate already kneeling in front of an opened crate, rummaging inside it, Schwarzritter floating near her in all of its T-shaped glory. "Hmmm?" Lucy paused what she's doing when she heard her name being called, the polymath stood up and faced her Russian counterpart. "Yes, Ms. Zhukova?" The silver-haired girl tilted her head a bit, wondering if there was something important enough to warrant interrupting her tidying up. Oh, boundaries, regulations, ja, she wholeheartedly approved. It'd only be convenient for everyone involved if they had clear rules to follow, thus eliminating any ambiguity as to whether something was or wasn't allowed plus the consequences should a violation occurred. Valeriya had Lucy's full attention now. Don't bother one another unless necessary, no problems there, in fact, that should be a given in fact. "I agree." She nodded, so far so good there. However, what came next confused the German prodigy a bit, at least Valeriya's wording made it so. If my deduction is correct... what Ms. Zhukova means is that she'll sometime invite students to this room, guests then? That sounded simple enough, half of the room was hers to do as she pleased anyway, but why did she have to specify about inviting them to her bed? Was it a Russian metaphor for socializing? Well, of course when two or more people are socializing, they'd be producing sounds, voices of conversations in addition to noises produced by whatever activity they'd be doing. "Worry not," Lucretia replied, fully confident that she perfectly understood what Valeriya meant, "One, I can simply cover my ears with sound-absorbent material should the need arise, and two, I'll be working on some of my projects in the study, particularly those that are small enough to not require a dedicated workshop, they'll certainly produce sounds. With these context in mind, I think we'll have no issues." She concluded. The petite girl would already be returning to her rummaging if not for Valeriya's final statement, in which its ironic tone completely flew over Lucy's head, "If it aligns with my interests, then I will participate." She then proceeded to nonchalantly return to kneeling down beside her crate, dainty fingers disappearing into the container. Landshark</s> <\|message\|>Shou Zheng Shou Zheng --- Thankfully Shou had no need to rely on the tram to arrive at his assigned dormitory at the end of the party. As Hana had promised, the drug's effects hadn't lingered for longer than enjoyable. Thanks had been given for her company, apologies for ruining her conversation, and promises to be fulfilled at a later date. Even if his mind was all cleared up and he knew exactly which tram he was supposed to take, the chance to stretch his legs and get some fresh air wasn't something he would skip. So while other students made themselves comfortable in the spacious and plush seats, Shou made himself a nuisance and climbed around like he had arboreal rather than aquatic features. The tour might have shown them the highlights Bermuda had to offer, but it was something else to get a bird's view of the man-made island. When he closed his eyes he could feel the ocean breeze against his skin and taste the salt-kissed air. It was almost enough for him to head down and take a swim, but the curfew was far too close for him to risk it. So he made his way towards the accommodations he had been assigned when he received his papers down by the docks this morning. Careful leaps and jumps carried him from one chimney to another, or similarly reinforced parts of the rooftops. He'd crashed through enough ceilings before to learn about avoiding the more flimsy sections. Thus the sturdy construction of his accommodations came as a welcome surprise. The many small windows that adorned the building slightly less so. It'd be a tight squeeze, but he could probably still slip his way out. A quick entry through one was probably right out though unless he planned on knocking out the entire window frame. While Bermuda's trams might have been smooth and efficient, there was something to be said about simply ignoring the streets and pathways and cutting one's own path. Even with the pauses to sight see, Shou landed with a heavy thud in the street before the trams. And just because he had gone under the influence once tonight did not mean he had to pass on the opportunity for some less fruity drinks. His belongings were not particularly numerous nor did they need to be unpacked immediately for any reason. All he had to do was freshen up before he retired for tonight. Thus when Kiran did arrive, he'd be met with Shou sitting in the tavern. Balancing his chair somewhat precariously as he munched away at a bratwurst while a mug of dark lager sat on the table before him.</s> <\|message\|>Valeriya Zhukova Valeriya Zhukova Did...did Lucretia not understand what she meant? Valeriya blinked in mild surprise as the German girl seemed to not understand what she was getting at. After a moment, she decided to just go with it. Forget it, then. If Lucretia didn't know what she was talking about it, it wasn't her problem. She'd learn about the birds and the bees eventually. Now that she was done unpacking, though, there wasn't quite much to do for the rest of the night besides sleep, was there? There was the option of breaking curfew to start scouting around the campus at night and get the lay of the land, but two factors told Valeriya that would be a poor idea, at least for tonight. First, there was a good chance that the staff would be far more vigilant on the first few nights, before routine and lack of excitement set in. There was little point in not patiently waiting for a better window in which to sneak out. Second, all that dancing earlier in the evening had worn her out somewhat. Valeriya was in very good physical shape, as befitting a trained spy, but dancing was still a good amount of exertion. No, if she were caught or if something untoward happened, it was too much of a risk, as tired as she was. So with a mental shrug, she started pulling out some more comfortable clothing to sleep in from her just-unpacked garments, briefly glancing over to check on what the German girl on the other side of the room was doing.</s>	<\|message\|>James Porter James took a moment to let everything settle down. He was still slightly reeling from the drugs in his system. He found the entire place simply exquisite, but it was more spacious than what he was comfortable with. On top of that, he had a roommate, this complicated things. He had already missed a golden opportunity to find his target, now he had to deal with a person looking over his shoulders every time he were to do something. 'This situation is a pain in the ass' he thought. However, instead of dwelling on complications, he simply wanted to recover from tonight's exciting events. The student he was to have as his roommate shared many physical similarities. If one were to see them together, it'd be certain that they'd ask if one was related to the other. The only dead giveaway that they weren't are the orient features that his roommate had. James paced the rooms for a little before stopping to glance at his roommate. "It seems we're stuck together for the time being..." James' tone was a little harsher than he wanted it to sound. If he were to be honest with himself, a little frustrated at how everything turned out and it seemed to be leaking into his speech. James turned to face him properly and continued, attempting to remedy his tone with a smile, "... Introductions are in order I suppose, James Porter. Chemist and Dynamicist, and you are?"</s>
<\|description\|>James Porter 18 \| Male \| 5'7" \| 149 lbs Empire of Britannia \| Dynamicism \| Chemical Assassin Their Story Kidnapped at the age of 7, James was trained in her Majesty's new Military Intelligence project codenamed: "Good Little Deeds". There he was taught to speak multiple languages, handle firearms, and become one of the brightest minds among Britannia's citizens. His original purpose was to infiltrate into foreign nations and gather intelligence and conduct sabotage missions. However, he had a particular talent for brewing poisonous gaseous solutions. This talent was deadly when paired with his use of Dynamicist formulations. At first, his potent poisons were simple and needed a lot of setup before they could be deployed without risk of towards himself. That was of course until he studied a little bit of Technologism. His major talent still lied within his fine dynamic control, however, altering the specifics of his poisons with Technologistic formulations were key to his continued success. His missions from the day of his recruitment to his current assignment have been his life. He has no childhood, no parents that he can remember (or cares to remember), and no real friends. However, he still has many of his years ahead of him and life can change in a hearbeat, his story has only yet begun. --- Organization: Institute of Good Little Deeds</s> <\|message\|>Age \| Gender \| Height \| Weight EE 87, May 6 \| Morning The dust settled, and the ashes did too. As the sun crested over the horizon, the mist around Bermuda dispersed, melting away from the heat and leaving only a sticky dampness behind. Within an hour or two, even that residue to fade, until the picture of an island shrouded in fog disappeared completely. Only memories of the night before persisted now. Memories, and the remnants of wreckage left by the intrepid and the foolish. The crater left upon the beach, and the shattered lamppost on the adjacent street. The smell of burnt flesh, and the clockwork birds laying lifelessly on the ground. The destruction of a storefront, and the bullets scattered over the streets. Were strange things happening, or were stupid kids just acting out, now that no government oversight was there to remind them of how to behave in polite society? No one knew for certain, and indeed, as morning cracked and the adults got to work, so too did Bermuda's police force, judiciously cordoning off these incidents. The newspaper, of course, remained aware regardless, and soon enough, copies of the Bermuda Triangle began to pop up around the city, enjoyed with a cup of coffee in a quaint little café or read in bed with a warm croissant. News, of course, still featured the Ottoman Empire's civil war front and center. With Polymaths recalled to the capital or having found positions of leadership within the rebellion, it had now become a sight of international interest in seeing how modern warfare looked. Nothing substantial could be confirmed yet, but certainly, there were plenty of stories, from mechanized castles laying close-quarters siege on each other to armored infantry possessing state-of-the-art steamcannons and piledrivers to, of course, the Egoists squads that murdered them by the dozens. On more curious notes were stories of how some curfew breakers ended up amnesiac the day after. While only one such individual, a Mr. F, served as the account for this curious situation, it was nevertheless interesting. Was there something in the air out in the open seas? Certainly, there were more than a couple instances where transient global amnesia could set in, and in a world as unfinished as this, there were plenty of local legends out there as well that may have grains of truth connecting to this strange affliction. No peer-reviewed studies have been released, but more than a couple clubs had expressed interest in this as well. And who could simply neglect the increased incidences of property damage over the night before? While none had been so extreme as Jeanne's immolation of a library, a bar had been broken into and the street littered with bullet holes. Had a student gotten fully shitfaced? And what of those clockwork drones littering an area blackened by flame? One could easily recall the illustrious Nazca Whitehall as both a craftswoman of clockworks and as one who had volunteered to supervise Jeanne from the day before? Had there been an altercation? Multiple altercations? The truth was muddled, however, known only by those intimately involved… @Vega7285 What were friends for, if not to help with dodging hospital fees? It had taken time, but the natural regeneration of an Egoist was a powerful one, and even if Shou had been almost completely wiped out the night before from his self-flagellation and the strange creature in the fog, by the time his pains started to rouse him, he was strong once more. Or well, strong enough to limp through the streets before curfew ended at least. It was fortunate that he had managed to get Hana's address one way or the other before any of this happened, as she was likely the only one that he knew and trusted now. His fried nerves still tingled, the warming of the air only rousing the many burns that covered his body. Every salty breeze brought a sting that reminded him of the blackness that caressed him the night before, and his left still ached from the effort it took to launch himself out from the beach in a single bound. But so long as he lived, he would continue to walk. The dragon's path was filled with obstacles, but death was the only insurmountable one. Blood tracked up the stairs through the Incan-style apartments, yet Shou, in his fatigued, pained, yet still alert state of mind, would notice that his wasn't the only blood painting the white-washed floor. There had been another injury here. To be shelved for later though. Curfew ended, a faint electric buzz racing through his body, and the Egoist alerted Hana to his presence in whichever way he was accustomed. This@Medili@banjoanjo Pain. Pain and confusion. What exactly happened? Why was she like this? It hurt to breathe, and her whole body felt feverish, sensitive to the bandages that wrapped all around her. This was not her room. The smell of burnt flesh filled her nose with every breath, or was it that her nose itself was burnt? And her hair…there was something all too light about how her head felt, as if a weight that she was used to was suddenly removed. With great effort, Nazca brought her body up, and as she did so, the bed itself moved up to match her efforts, propping her to a sitting position. This…this was a hospital. For all of Ryuuko's incessant worrying and Bang's own knowledge of first aid, neither of the Egoists were Polymaths who had dabbled in medicinal arts. There was no point for Egoists to do so, after all. Ryuuko wasn't a true martial Egoist, but she could shrug off most encounters with motorized vehicles, while Bang's specialization was regeneration and literally nothing else. The best they could do while Jeanne slept without a care in the world, was to rip linen off the curtains, sanitize it best they could, and try to bind up Nazca's many injuries. And in the morning? With Jeanne dragged alongside them, they hurried Nazca to the closest hospital in the city, surprising the morning staff and having her immediately treated for her burns. Ointments and salves now coated her from head to toe, and her condition had stabilized enough that there was no risk of death and low risk of infection. Perhaps in a month, Nazca would be as good as new. But that didn't stop the nurses from whispering, of how that hellfire witch had already roasted one of those who were meant to guard her. Didn't stop Ryuuko and Bang from expressing their concern. Didn't stop Jeanne from sitting in a corner of the hospital room, reading through a small notepad as if none of this affected or was even tangentially related to her. The question remained. What happened to her last night? And could she even trust those who now stood before her? @Psyker Landshark By all intents and purposes, Valeriya was successful. No violence was needed to get what she wanted, and Kiran was a fairly good partner in bed, possessing that ever-so-winning combination of a pretty face and a toned body. Both of them were experienced, and while much of their elopement was transactional, it didn't meant that it was necessarily unenjoyable either. More importantly, her cousin would be happy to hear from her after so long, and she ought to be looking forward to his response in the next couple of days too. Indeed, with libido satisfied, mission completed, and a couple days of freedom to enjoy, the world was quite literally Valeriya's oyster. She could hit up that Egoist again about testing out the limits of her Technologist designs, pursue Kiran more professionally about a possible alcohol enterprise, or maybe even enjoy the city itself and sample the local cuisine! There was an atelier that might have her name on it, or maybe a couple of unburnt publications to study up on. For an enterprising young woman such as herself, it would be a tragedy if she spent the day solely indoors. So she opened the door and, collapsing to the side of it was a familiar face. Lucretia, the princess of the Konigsmahne. Hair stuck to her face, and clothing still possessing of a dampness that didn't look to be from fog alone. Schwarzritter loomed behind, a silent, unmoving guardian, but the floating half-ring wasn't anywhere close to large enough to obscure its mistress from the glances of other residents of the castle-dormitory. And, just a couple beats later… "Aw fuck! Who broke the doors?"</s> <\|message\|>Valeriya Zhukova Valeriya Zhukova Having already dropped her letter and package into the mail chute the previous night, Valeriya went about her morning routine with no small amount of cheer. It was...mostly a successful night. She'd accomplished her assignment within just a few days of arriving on the island, and she'd gotten laid to boot. Kiran was definitely aware she was a spy now, but given his reaction to it, well, Valeriya had an inkling he wasn't just a novelist and engineer, either. So that left the day solely for her own interests. What to do...? Valeriya mused to herself as she finished getting dressed and started walking out the door...only to run straight into a bedraggled Lucretia. Well. She'd never returned last night, then, it seemed. One explanation later, Valeriya sighed to herself as she finished helping Lucretia dry up and into a fresh set of clothes. Hell. Another random assault on a student out past curfew, eh? Once was curious. Twice meant something was going on behind the scenes on this island. Damn it. It wasn't exactly her problem, but it was definitely something to look into. This meant...damn. The Frenchwoman was probably innocent, then. And framed. Fine. It seemed she'd have to get herself involved with the Jeanne nonsense for now, depsite how much more pleasant it would be for everyone else if she was dealt with on a more permanent basis. With a resigned sigh, Valeriya set out, looking to investigate exactly where Jeanne and her minders were today.</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --Scheisse Morgen-- "...?!" Like a spooked kitten, Lucretia slumped form jolted the moment Valeriya touched her, no need for the Russian Engineer to shake her roommate awake there for sure. A few seconds of deliriousness later, memories of what transpired last night came in waves; the Man-Bat Egoist individual must have carried her here, and since the entrances and windows were locked, he simply did the next best thing he could that didn't involve property damage. The white-haired Polymath hissed between clenched teeth, feeling aching pain all over her body, as if her muscles were on fire. Due to her current condition, she welcomed Valeriya's offer to help, even if it was something as simple as drying her mist-soaked body up and then preparing a fresh set of clothes while the younger girl showered to scrub off all of the salt, dirt, and grime away. Moments later, Lucy was all cleaned up, ready to begin her day. She still felt rather shitty, but the noblewoman was nothing but diligently ambitious and the myriad of events leading up to now merely burned her desire to get to the bottom of all this; she now had no doubts why Pax Occidenta sent her here, the academy was merely sugarcoating something sinister, something wrong with this island, and she'd be damned if she didn't uncover the truth. After having a proper breakfast, tinkered Schwarzritter, and finally dropping off the reprogrammed floating drone to be sent to Sukuro Jinga, she moved on with her day. First order of business? Find Herr Steiner and make him see reason, also inquiring him if he knew anything about whatever went on during the night, the source of that fog, and who in the name of Paracelsus was that bat Egoist?! So many questions needed answering and woe to those who'd deny Lucretia von Konigsmahne the answers she deserved.</s>	<\|message\|>James Porter Night turned to day, the brewing process was complete. An extra strong brew of so-called 'sleeping medicines'. Now it was time to send the meds off. But beforehand, he would construct a letter expressing the desire to meet. After writing the letter, he secured it to the vial he had of the sleeping serum. He then made preparations as per usual before heading out, this time with newspaper in hand. He was off to meet with Bunga, he knew however that she'd be quite disappointed with not having Bang in toe. However, with the news of last night's incidents, he had an inkling feeling of where they might be. "Off to the infirmary then..." He dusted the top of his hat and secured it attop his head and started to walk towards the agreed meeting place Bunga and James had agreed upon.</s>
<\|description\|>Oswald Pittman Oswald "Oz" or "Ozzy" Pittman, Gold Ranger Age: 17 DOB: March 26th, 2007 POB: San Antonio, Texas, United States Height: 6'2" Weight: 205 lbs Eyes: Green Theme: In a Nutshell Special Talents & Skills Savvy in Information Technology Graphic Design Low level hacking Mixed Martial Arts Scanned Lifeforms Gold Dragon Electric Eel Pistol Shrimp Powers & Abilities Gold Dragon Aura, feels warm and radiant with a slight electrical charge that would make ones hairs stand on end. Golden Lightening. Providing both offensive and defensive capabilities, Oz is able to emit golden lightening from his hands and even create and manipulate electromagnetic fields to create an instant, but short-lived, electro barrier. The limits to these electric abilities and their applications are currently unknown, but continue to develop with use. Short-Distance Teleportation. Ozzy is able to 'ride the lightening', moving from one location to another in a flash of light. However, he cannot teleport to places unknown without an absolute understanding of the layout. Therefore he typically limits teleporting to be within his line of sight. Overuse of this ability can cause major fatigue. Technology Influence. Through his understanding and command of electricity and technological systems, Ozzy can often interact with technology as if he could speak its language. Certain applications include his ability to deactivate alarms despite not knowing the code, bypassing internet securities despite not knowing the password, etc. His ability to do this presents itself more like an intuitive keystroke rather than a master/sentient slave relationship between him and the system he is trying to crack and it's success is not guaranteed. Explosive Burst. A gift from the pistol shrimp, if Oz punches his hands together, an explosive burst erupts out of the clash, sending a sonic pulse outward around his entire body. A great maneuver when outnumbered and being swallowed by a crowd of enemies or even just a perfect technique to invoke a stun. Weapons & Gear Gold Dragon Nanosuit Golden War Axe Dragon Zord Booster Mech Biography Oz was never one of the social elite. Despite coming from a father who was an All American Quarterback when he was in high school and a mother who was prom queen in her heyday, Oz was just an apple that happened to fall far from the tree. Whereas his father was a sports enthusiast and his mother was queen bee in her social circle, Oz's interests were far more virtual in nature. Ever since his parents introduced Oz to the internet, the young man would stare at the screen for hours absorbing knowledge and entertainment with every new click of the mouse. Unfortunately, this took a toll on his social skills and while he may be willing to talk to a small few trusted associates, he usually keeps to himself for the most part. To him, life in the real world just isn't as exciting as the life he lives through the screen. That is, until recently...</s> <\|message\|>Finley "Finn" Logan Finn had spent much of the night before baking brownies, cupcakes, and cookies for the bake sale he had planned today. You would never know that by looking at him. He still had plenty of energy, and was in a chipper mood. The bake sale was Finn's idea, but there were other members of the cheer squad present to assist. Most of them were on this trip for the extra credit, but Finn was here solely for the joy of sharing his creations with others. While on the bus, he sat next to a boy named Sa'cha. He was a new kid, and Finn had seen him around, but until today, they hadn't talked much. Finn was going to change that today. The two chatted on the bus, and by chatted, it was mostly Finn doing most of the talking. He was used to that. It was going quite well, until Skull and Bulk opened their mouths. Finn cringed the entire time Bulk and Skull were arguing. Finn wished those two didn't come on this trip. Finn didn't have it in him to actually hate anyone, but those two greatly reminded him of his childhood bullies. As bad as it sounded, he couldn't stand being in the same room with them for fear of doing something he might regret. So he avoided any interactions with them whenever possible. Finn didn't acknowledge their antics, and was grateful to Tommy for providing some kind of distraction from them. "Aww, leave her be Tommy." Finn replied. "If she does, she does, and if she doesn't she doesn't. You don't need to tease her about it." He then turned his attention back to Sa'cha, and smiled. "Anyway, I know some people on this trip aren't exactly here for charity… It isn't my place to judge them. Me? I'm here to share my sweet treats with people. I love baking! My mom, little sister and I would bake together when my mom was free. Sharing sweets is a great way to bond with people I think."</s> <\|message\|>Shelby Watkins Tommy had chuckled at Oz's comment about the dick-measuring contest, and then grinned when Finn and Sa'Cha insisted he stop teasing Shelby. "Yeah!" she nodded repeatedly, arms crossed. "You should stop teasing me!" "But you're too cute when you're embarrassed!" he replied playfully. "I am not embarrassed!" she insisted. "I have nothing to be embarrassed about!" "Relax, I'm just messing with you," the dark-haired boy said after another chortle, pulling her into a one-armed shoulder-to-shoulder hug and kissing her on the forehead. "I'll quit teasing you now, ya big crybaby." "Yeah, well you're a big jerk," she added, crossing her arms again and looking away, chin up. But then she turned back and grinned. "But you're lucky you're a cute jerk!" After Helia had inquired about the purpose of the day's event, Shelby was the first to reply. "There are so many awesome things going on at the Museum today!" she explained excitedly. "We're heading there to help out with a fundraiser to save the place from being closed down. And like Finn said, he made baked nummies!" "So, do you got any 'special' brownies in your stash, Finn?" Bulk asked quietly with a grin as his head popped back up over the seat. "What, you mean 'special' like my grandmother's cookies?" Skull inquired as he chewed the gum in his mouth loudly. Bulk just rolled his eyes. "No, you dolt," he replied, shaking his head. He leaned in and whispered in Skull's ear, after which the other boy's eyes grew wide. "Duuuuuude!" he said excitedly to Finn, a bit too loud. "If you got weed goodies, fork 'em over, twerp!" "Ixnay on the grasstalk!" Bulk barked angrily in a hushed tone when he noticed Miss Morgan glancing in their direction. The two punks then dropped back down and were quiet the rest of the drive. "Hey everyone!" Karone called out, holding up her phone, which had the Twitch app open. She then flashed a toothy smile. "Say hi to the chat! We have seven thousand people watching right now!" Shelby let out a squeal of protest and dropped down out of sight of the camera. "I really hate that girl..." _______________________________________ _______________________________________ _______________________________________ As the bus turned off the main highway, they could see the Museum at the other end of a winding road. There were dozens of vehicles finding their way into the parking lot, and quite a few tented stalls had been set up throughout the forested grounds surrounding the main building. As the students began exiting the vehicle once it had parked, the white box truck that had been following them pulled into the lot as well. The driver hopped out and slid open the back rolling door as Tommy and the others walked up to help unload the supplies for the event. "Hey guys, how was the ride?" the older man asked. He looked to be in his mid-to-late-forties, well-built, and covered in tattoos. Many of the teens thought he was the coolest teacher at Angel Grove High, and he had been a beloved local celebrity back when he was a student there in the nineties. "It was stellar, Mr. Oliver!" Karone replied happily before anyone else could. "I had over seven thousand viewers on my stream before Miss Morgan made me turn it off!" "That's… impressive!" he replied. "It totes is!" she agreed wholeheartedly while Shelby looked at the others and made a silent puking motion. Soon they were loading up their supplies - including Finn's baked goods - from the shelves and cabinets inside the truck onto carts and wheeling them to the row of tents that had been allotted to them. Before their stalls opened for business, the teen volunteers were taken on a quick tour of the facility, which included a restaurant called the Dino Bite Cafe. (the episode linked below also gives a good look at the Museum and Cafe)</s> <\|message\|>Finley "Finn" Logan Finn giggled at Shelby and Tommy's banter. Then Bulk and Skull had to go and ruin it… Without missing a beat, Finn replied with a smile on his face. "Well, all my treats are special. They're handmade with love and care! Also, please don't call me a twerp… That's not nice." He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Finn was also grateful to Miss Morgan for shutting those bullies down quick. When the bus finally arrived at the museum, Finn was one of the first to get off. First, he had helped to unload the supplies for the event. Particularly his baked goods, onto the carts, and wheeling them to the tents. Finn was excited to start, and he was not afraid to show it. He started bouncing up and down, waving his arms, and started to sing. All you have to do is take a cup of flour Add it to the mix Now just take a little something sweet, not sour A bit of salt, just a pinch Baking these treats is such a cinch Add a teaspoon of vanilla Add a little more, and you count to four, And you never get your fill of... Cupcakes! So sweet and tasty Cupcakes! Don't be too hasty Cupcakes! Cupcakes, cupcakes, CUPCAKES! He finished his little routine by doing a cartwheel. "Weee!" After that, he went to join the group that went on a tour of the facility.</s> <\|message\|>Sa'Cha Harroea Reverence the Cacophony... --- --- Finally, the bus pulled into the destination and not a moment too soon. Bulk and Skull were really wearing Sa'Cha's patience thin. One more outburst from them and he would've transformed them both into crickets for the remainder of the trip, no matter who saw him do it. Thankfully, the bus had halted movement and they all proceeded to exit the cramped space. There was a reason he didn't ride the bus to Angel Grove High. He didn't like cramped spaces and he didn't like awkward interactions, one reason he hadn't asked Finn out yet. He was scared. Not of rejection, but of what Finn would think of him. Slowly he exited the bus and watched as Finn performed his cheer about baked good. Why was he so cute? There was mention of a tour of the location before setup would take place. Finn seemed overly excited, while Sa'Cha needed a moment to collect his thoughts. Andrew suddenly hugged him from behind and smiled. "Now's your chance lover boy," he said as they watched Finn hurry towards the others as they prepared for the tour of the facility. "Later," Sa'Cha replied. "Besides, we should focus on the reason we are here Andrew." "The reason YOU are here is to ask Finn out and help with his bake sale. The reason I am here is to make sure you do exactly that. Now let operation 'Finn and Sa'Cha Sitting In A Tree' commence," Andrew nearly blurted out before stepping away from Sa'Cha who had a scowl on his face. "You'll thank me later." Sa'Cha grumbled and moved towards the rest of the group eager to hear what all needed to be said on the tour. He couldn't shake the odd feeling that had come over him as soon as they'd driven onto the land. It was odd and he felt it in the pit of his stomach. His head thumped like a soft hammer hitting wood. He pushed it to the back of his head as he looked around.</s>	<\|message\|>Oswald Pittman Ozzy was thankful to be off the bus, that was for sure. As soon as his feet hit the Earth, he stretched out, slow and exaggerated, like a cat. Soon supplies were unloaded and a tour commenced. As they passed the Dino Bite Cafe, Oz impulsively uttered, "Wow... It's like The Flintstones." He took a quick snapshot on his phone, evidence for the tale he would surely tell his parents once he returned home. Curiosity lead him toward the counter where he caught a glimpse of the menu and one particularly humongous dino-sized 'Bronto-Burger' that the was featured upon it. "Good lordy, I'd have to unhinge my jaw," he said out loud as he rubbed his chin in discomfort at the mere ponderance of eating that thing. "What the hell is 'a bowl of fries'?" he asked as he kept reading. "A bowl of fries?!" Eventually he turned back around to face the group and pointed back behind himself toward the counter. "If one of you can scarf that thing down, clean the fry bowl and not die, I'll pay for the meal," he said with a crooked grin as he issued the challenge.</s>
<\|description\|>Finley "Finn" Logan Finn The Pink Star Sapphire Dragon Ranger Age: 17 D.O.B: February 14th 2007 P.O.B: Newark, New Jersey, United States Height: 6'0" Weight: 180 lbs Hair: Blonde Eyes: Blue Voice: Kenton Duty Theme: Smile Smile Smile Special Talents and Skills Cheerleader Charisma (Charming, Friendly) Cooking Martial Arts training (Novice) Scanned Lifeforms Star Sapphire Dragon, Fairy, Unicorn Powers and Abilities Pink Dragonfire Aura Pink Dragonfire manipulation Photokinesis (Manipulation of visible light. Mainly used to project holograms, and turn invisible) Hard light constructs (Can create objects made of light. Most commonly, he makes arrows fired from his bow, as well as force fields.) Healing (Can heal wounds from his allies) Gear and weapons Pink Star Sapphire Dragon Nanosuit (Pretend it's a male body) Dragon Bow Dragon Zord Booster Mech Biography Despite what Finn would tell you, Finn did not have the happiest of childhoods. After Finn's little sister was born, the family started experiencing financial troubles after his father was laid off. The parents would often argue, and his father would often drown his sorrows with alcohol. Eventually, this would result in his parents divorcing. Finn lives with his mother and sister, and doesn't see his father too often. The two have a strained relationship. Things weren't any better at school either. Finn didn't really share many interests with other boys. He had more stereotypically feminine interests such as playing with Barbie dolls instead of Hot Wheels the otner boys were into. He was also a scrawny child, who wasn't all that interested in sports. As such he was often called a sissy by other boys and bullied constantly. His father not so subtly reaffirmed the same sentiment. Implying that living with his mother and sister was turning him into a girl. Finn would sometimes cry in his bedroom at night. Through all the drama, he tried to maintain a friendly upbeat demeanor in order to be a good example for his little sister. He had to care for her a lot when his parents were otherwise unavailable. Since he was the one that had to make dinner for the family, he developed an interest in cooking. At some point when he was about to start high school, Finn's mother announced that she would be moving to Los Angeles for a better paying job opportunity. For Finn, this was the opportunity of a lifetime. He could have a fresh start in a new town where people didn't know him. No longer would he be the bullying victim. He started working out, and found a sport he liked. Cheerleading. This resulted in him no longer being the scrawny little boy he once was. He was friendly and socialable, and quickly became popular on campus. At some point, Finn came out as gay. There wasn't as much drama as Finn had been expecting and everyone was supportive, but Finn hasn't told his dad yet… Currently, Finn attends Angel Grove High, and is the captain of the cheerleading squad. He's currently unsure what he wants to do after High School.</s> <\|message\|>Finley "Finn" Logan Finn had spent much of the night before baking brownies, cupcakes, and cookies for the bake sale he had planned today. You would never know that by looking at him. He still had plenty of energy, and was in a chipper mood. The bake sale was Finn's idea, but there were other members of the cheer squad present to assist. Most of them were on this trip for the extra credit, but Finn was here solely for the joy of sharing his creations with others. While on the bus, he sat next to a boy named Sa'cha. He was a new kid, and Finn had seen him around, but until today, they hadn't talked much. Finn was going to change that today. The two chatted on the bus, and by chatted, it was mostly Finn doing most of the talking. He was used to that. It was going quite well, until Skull and Bulk opened their mouths. Finn cringed the entire time Bulk and Skull were arguing. Finn wished those two didn't come on this trip. Finn didn't have it in him to actually hate anyone, but those two greatly reminded him of his childhood bullies. As bad as it sounded, he couldn't stand being in the same room with them for fear of doing something he might regret. So he avoided any interactions with them whenever possible. Finn didn't acknowledge their antics, and was grateful to Tommy for providing some kind of distraction from them. "Aww, leave her be Tommy." Finn replied. "If she does, she does, and if she doesn't she doesn't. You don't need to tease her about it." He then turned his attention back to Sa'cha, and smiled. "Anyway, I know some people on this trip aren't exactly here for charity… It isn't my place to judge them. Me? I'm here to share my sweet treats with people. I love baking! My mom, little sister and I would bake together when my mom was free. Sharing sweets is a great way to bond with people I think."</s> <\|message\|>Shelby Watkins Tommy had chuckled at Oz's comment about the dick-measuring contest, and then grinned when Finn and Sa'Cha insisted he stop teasing Shelby. "Yeah!" she nodded repeatedly, arms crossed. "You should stop teasing me!" "But you're too cute when you're embarrassed!" he replied playfully. "I am not embarrassed!" she insisted. "I have nothing to be embarrassed about!" "Relax, I'm just messing with you," the dark-haired boy said after another chortle, pulling her into a one-armed shoulder-to-shoulder hug and kissing her on the forehead. "I'll quit teasing you now, ya big crybaby." "Yeah, well you're a big jerk," she added, crossing her arms again and looking away, chin up. But then she turned back and grinned. "But you're lucky you're a cute jerk!" After Helia had inquired about the purpose of the day's event, Shelby was the first to reply. "There are so many awesome things going on at the Museum today!" she explained excitedly. "We're heading there to help out with a fundraiser to save the place from being closed down. And like Finn said, he made baked nummies!" "So, do you got any 'special' brownies in your stash, Finn?" Bulk asked quietly with a grin as his head popped back up over the seat. "What, you mean 'special' like my grandmother's cookies?" Skull inquired as he chewed the gum in his mouth loudly. Bulk just rolled his eyes. "No, you dolt," he replied, shaking his head. He leaned in and whispered in Skull's ear, after which the other boy's eyes grew wide. "Duuuuuude!" he said excitedly to Finn, a bit too loud. "If you got weed goodies, fork 'em over, twerp!" "Ixnay on the grasstalk!" Bulk barked angrily in a hushed tone when he noticed Miss Morgan glancing in their direction. The two punks then dropped back down and were quiet the rest of the drive. "Hey everyone!" Karone called out, holding up her phone, which had the Twitch app open. She then flashed a toothy smile. "Say hi to the chat! We have seven thousand people watching right now!" Shelby let out a squeal of protest and dropped down out of sight of the camera. "I really hate that girl..." _______________________________________ _______________________________________ _______________________________________ As the bus turned off the main highway, they could see the Museum at the other end of a winding road. There were dozens of vehicles finding their way into the parking lot, and quite a few tented stalls had been set up throughout the forested grounds surrounding the main building. As the students began exiting the vehicle once it had parked, the white box truck that had been following them pulled into the lot as well. The driver hopped out and slid open the back rolling door as Tommy and the others walked up to help unload the supplies for the event. "Hey guys, how was the ride?" the older man asked. He looked to be in his mid-to-late-forties, well-built, and covered in tattoos. Many of the teens thought he was the coolest teacher at Angel Grove High, and he had been a beloved local celebrity back when he was a student there in the nineties. "It was stellar, Mr. Oliver!" Karone replied happily before anyone else could. "I had over seven thousand viewers on my stream before Miss Morgan made me turn it off!" "That's… impressive!" he replied. "It totes is!" she agreed wholeheartedly while Shelby looked at the others and made a silent puking motion. Soon they were loading up their supplies - including Finn's baked goods - from the shelves and cabinets inside the truck onto carts and wheeling them to the row of tents that had been allotted to them. Before their stalls opened for business, the teen volunteers were taken on a quick tour of the facility, which included a restaurant called the Dino Bite Cafe. (the episode linked below also gives a good look at the Museum and Cafe)</s> <\|message\|>Finley "Finn" Logan Finn giggled at Shelby and Tommy's banter. Then Bulk and Skull had to go and ruin it… Without missing a beat, Finn replied with a smile on his face. "Well, all my treats are special. They're handmade with love and care! Also, please don't call me a twerp… That's not nice." He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Finn was also grateful to Miss Morgan for shutting those bullies down quick. When the bus finally arrived at the museum, Finn was one of the first to get off. First, he had helped to unload the supplies for the event. Particularly his baked goods, onto the carts, and wheeling them to the tents. Finn was excited to start, and he was not afraid to show it. He started bouncing up and down, waving his arms, and started to sing. All you have to do is take a cup of flour Add it to the mix Now just take a little something sweet, not sour A bit of salt, just a pinch Baking these treats is such a cinch Add a teaspoon of vanilla Add a little more, and you count to four, And you never get your fill of... Cupcakes! So sweet and tasty Cupcakes! Don't be too hasty Cupcakes! Cupcakes, cupcakes, CUPCAKES! He finished his little routine by doing a cartwheel. "Weee!" After that, he went to join the group that went on a tour of the facility.</s> <\|message\|>Sa'Cha Harroea Reverence the Cacophony... --- --- Finally, the bus pulled into the destination and not a moment too soon. Bulk and Skull were really wearing Sa'Cha's patience thin. One more outburst from them and he would've transformed them both into crickets for the remainder of the trip, no matter who saw him do it. Thankfully, the bus had halted movement and they all proceeded to exit the cramped space. There was a reason he didn't ride the bus to Angel Grove High. He didn't like cramped spaces and he didn't like awkward interactions, one reason he hadn't asked Finn out yet. He was scared. Not of rejection, but of what Finn would think of him. Slowly he exited the bus and watched as Finn performed his cheer about baked good. Why was he so cute? There was mention of a tour of the location before setup would take place. Finn seemed overly excited, while Sa'Cha needed a moment to collect his thoughts. Andrew suddenly hugged him from behind and smiled. "Now's your chance lover boy," he said as they watched Finn hurry towards the others as they prepared for the tour of the facility. "Later," Sa'Cha replied. "Besides, we should focus on the reason we are here Andrew." "The reason YOU are here is to ask Finn out and help with his bake sale. The reason I am here is to make sure you do exactly that. Now let operation 'Finn and Sa'Cha Sitting In A Tree' commence," Andrew nearly blurted out before stepping away from Sa'Cha who had a scowl on his face. "You'll thank me later." Sa'Cha grumbled and moved towards the rest of the group eager to hear what all needed to be said on the tour. He couldn't shake the odd feeling that had come over him as soon as they'd driven onto the land. It was odd and he felt it in the pit of his stomach. His head thumped like a soft hammer hitting wood. He pushed it to the back of his head as he looked around.</s> <\|message\|>Oswald Pittman Ozzy was thankful to be off the bus, that was for sure. As soon as his feet hit the Earth, he stretched out, slow and exaggerated, like a cat. Soon supplies were unloaded and a tour commenced. As they passed the Dino Bite Cafe, Oz impulsively uttered, "Wow... It's like The Flintstones." He took a quick snapshot on his phone, evidence for the tale he would surely tell his parents once he returned home. Curiosity lead him toward the counter where he caught a glimpse of the menu and one particularly humongous dino-sized 'Bronto-Burger' that the was featured upon it. "Good lordy, I'd have to unhinge my jaw," he said out loud as he rubbed his chin in discomfort at the mere ponderance of eating that thing. "What the hell is 'a bowl of fries'?" he asked as he kept reading. "A bowl of fries?!" Eventually he turned back around to face the group and pointed back behind himself toward the counter. "If one of you can scarf that thing down, clean the fry bowl and not die, I'll pay for the meal," he said with a crooked grin as he issued the challenge.</s>	<\|message\|>Finley "Finn" Logan One of the first stops on the tour was the Dino Bite Cafe. It was a cute dinosaur themed restaurant. When they went in, Oz issued a challenge for whoever could finish an entire bowl of fries. Finn giggled and spoke to Tommy and Sa'cha who were next to him. "I could probably do it, but well… It wouldn't be healthy for me to be scarfing down cupcakes and fries all day." He flexed one of his biceps. "I'm a cheerleader, I worked hard to get this body. I can't afford to let myself go. Besides, I have a feeling someone else will take him up on that." He said with an eye towards Bulk and Skull.</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\|>Eris Cloverton Age: 24 Fae properties: Half fae, her gift is that she can communicate with animals Personality: Eris is empathetic, and generally kind hearted. She's an animal lover and loves to cook and garden. With a love for knowledge, she is also a bit of a bookworm. She can be a little impulsive though, and has a low tolerance for boredom. At times, she can be a bit headstrong but it's usually because of her passion. Bio: Eris' childhood was filled with wonder and excitement. She was blessed with a relatively minor gift that started showing when she was about just about a year old, as she had made friends with the family cat and the two were inseparable. It wasn't confirmed though, until she could really start talking a year and half later and by 5 her parents' had nicknamed her "Snow" after Snow White as she had more animal friends than human friends. She'd spend time outside in the yard talking to birds and squirrels, saying "hi" to the dogs that passed by with the owners walking them. As she got older, sometimes she would bring her animal friends home- much to her parents' concern and sometimes displeasure, as the critters ranged from field mice to garter snakes to birds of various kinds to a coyote, even one time. At school she befriended her class pets, but also many of the other children. She had one particular best friend who was her closest ally, but Eris was a social butterfly and easily got along with most people. She knew right away, by about the age of 10, that she wanted to be a veterinarian and she stuck with that all the way through school, and now she is living her dream.</s> <\|message\|>Eris Cloverton Eris Cloverton Bright and sunny, there was a gentle breeze flowing through the town of Arrow Oak. There was a very subtle chill in the air, the first traces of fall. Eris honestly couldn't picture better weather for today. She was packing the last of her supplies into her car, double checking to make sure she wasn't missing anything. It had been a while since she'd been camping, and she was excited to catch up with her friends. Once sure she wasn't missing anything, Eris started on her way to the campsite to meet the other's there. It was a bit of a drive, out of the town and into the surrounding woods. It wasn't too often anymore Eris got out of town. While she had a garden and many houseplants to satisfy her love for nature on a daily basis, it was extremely refreshing to be away from the town and fully immersed in the natural world. It was hard to explain, but there was just something about being out in the forest that felt so welcoming to her, like she was at home. She parked her car in the small parking lot near the trailheads, deciding she would wait there for her friends before venturing into the woods. Leaning against the trunk of her car, she sipped some tea from her thermos.</s> <\|message\|>Ella Rodericks (this is her human family name). Ella Rodericks Ella lay on the grass on top of a small hill, she was staring at the sun and watching fluffy clouds in the azure blye sky. Sheep, turtles, dragons, bunnies were floating by and they seemed to greet her. Today seemed to be a great day to have fun! The red-haired young woman stood up and looked at her silhouette she left behind in the flattened grass. "That was such a cosy spot to lay on", she thought and she smiled with gratitude. Then Ella picked up her small backpack and put it on. She carried her red backpack with her at all times. Ella looked into the distance and there she saw the forest she planned to be in a little while. Next to a nearby tree was her unlocked bicycle, Ella picked it up and hopped on it's sadle. She ringed the bell a few times and rode downwards off the hill towards the forest. Ella loved to whistle while bicycling and she would whistle to any bird she'd see. After a few minutes the hill was behind her and Ella was halfway to the forest already.</s> <\|message\|>Marabella Wulf Marabella Wulf Today was a beautiful day, and the first signs of fall were showing themselves. Bella stepped out her front door with some supplies in hand for camping and stopped on the porch. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath as the breeze caressed her face. Opening her eyes, she looked to her right and down at Killian, who had some supplies in his mouth. "This is a perfect day to go camping. Don't you think, Killian?" she asked the wolf-dog. Killian's tail wagged, and he gave a bark behind the supplies he was helping Bella carry. She smiled down at him before heading to her car and putting everything in the already opened trunk, then turned to Killian to take what he had and put it in the trunk also, but he ended up doing that himself. Jumping up and placing his front paws on the bumper, he dropped what he had into the trunk, then jumped down. "Thank you, my good boy." she cooed as she reached over and scratched his head. "Let's go get the rest and make sure we haven't forgotten anything." With a bark and a wag of his tail, Killian ran back to the front door with Bella behind him. She watched him disappear into the house with a smile on her face, only to see him reappear in the doorway a moment later, just before she could reach the first step of the porch. She stopped and laughed as she looked at him standing in the doorway with his tail wagging and his blue ball in his mouth. "We definitely can't forget that." she laughed. Making her way up the steps, she walked inside, scratching Killian's head as she slid by him. Once inside, she went to her bedroom and scanned it to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything she may need or wanted to take with her. Walking to the head of her bed, she grabbed the necklace that was hanging on the bedpost, then slid it over her head to rest around her neck. The necklace was a silver chain with an anchor of silver and gold, a silver and a gold feather, and a wolf made from Lapis. Bella then headed to the kitchen, grabbed her water bottle off the counter and Killian's little travel bag. Heading back to the living room, she stopped to scan the room for anything that hadn't made it to the car other than the cooler, her jacket, and Killian's harness. Walking over to the cooler, she sat her water bottle and Killian's travel bag on it, then grabbed his harness off a hook by the front door. As soon as he saw it, his tail wagged wildly, and he made his way over to her for her to put it on him. "That's my good boy." she said warmly as she knelt down. After getting his harness on, she stood, extended the handle on the cooler, grabbed her water bottle, her jacket off a hook by the front door, and headed back out to the car with Killian in tow. She opened the back door of her car, slid on her jacket, and put Killian's travel bag in the back seat and her water bottle in the cupholder up front, then put the cooler in the truck before closing it. Walking back to the back door, she closed it and walked to the driver's door. "Looks like that's everything." she said as she opened the driver's door. As soon as the door opened, Killian jumped in and made his way over to the passenger's side, and she laughed as she looked in. "Let me go lock up and we'll be ready to go." she told him. "I also hope you've done your business. It's a long drive there." Killian dropped his ball into the seat and gave a bark as Bella turned from the car and walked back to the house. Killian took this time to get out and do his thing before jumping back into the car and getting back into the passenger's seat. After locking up the house and getting back to the car, she started it and started the long drive to the campsite. It felt like it had been forever since she had been out of town. It felt great to get the chance to get back out into nature. Once she arrived, she parked her car next to Eris's car, killed the engine, and got out with Killian after attaching his leash to his harness. "Hey, Eris! Long time no see!" she greeted Eris warmly as she shoved her keys into her jacket pocket.</s> <\|message\|>Zephyr Deniel The chill in the air didn't bother Zephyr, a nice side effect of his gift. He had taken a few days off work for this trip. Normally he'd much rather use his time off to catch up on his massive backlog of video games he had to get through. But he never could say no to Eris and her desire for adventure, and as much as camping may not be his ideal vacation it would be nice to catch up Eris and the others. He had spent the day making sure he had everything he would need for roughing it in the woods. Most importantly was a self inflating air mattress, Zephyr had slept on the floor of a tent with only a sleeping bag before and never again would he subject himself to that. His back got a little sore just thinking of it. Once he was satisfied he had packed all the creature comforts he would need he got in his car and started a drive to the campsite, listening to an old favourite episode of a podcast he loved. He got to the spot and despite priding himself on being early to most things he found he was the third of four to get there. Oh well, at least he wasn't last. He got out of his car and stretched, despite not minding the long drive he still felt sore after sitting and basically not moving for a long while. "Heya girls, long time no see." he casually walked over to them, still stretching his arms over his head.</s>	<\|message\|>Eris Cloverton "Hey, Mara!" Eris greeted her friend, grinning. "And, of course, hi Killian." It had been a long time since she had seen either of them. Last time she could recall was at Killian's last vet appointment, so it definitely had been too long since they got to hang out. Eris had friends of all kinds but she always felt it was neat that she and Marabella were so similarly gifted. After all, anyone who was a friend to animals was a friend to Eris. "How have you guys been?" Opening up the trunk of her car, she looked through her things and pulled out a little bag. "Would Killian like a treat?" Eris always had some on hand. It wasn't too much longer before others showed up, which Eris was glad for because she was ready to get out deeper into the woods. "Zephyr!" She said excitedly, happy to see her best friend there. Though she knew that Zephyr wasn't too big on things like this but she also knew it wouldn't be the same without him there. "I'm so glad you came. I forgot my matches for the campfire." she joked, nudging her friend with her elbow. "Kidding. But seriously, I'm happy you're here. We don't get to hang out enough anymore." "So there are a few different paths we can take. I've only hiked one of them, a few months ago to get an idea of the area but that just means more opportunity for adventure." What fun would this be without a little adventure, right? Something about the forest always invoked Eris' curiosity and explorative nature. Where would the paths lead? What sights would be seen or plants or animals found? She just had to find out. One time, as a teen she'd hiked off trail letting nothing but the wildlife guide her. Animals knew where all the real treasures of the forest could be found, after all.</s>
<\|description\|>Marabella Wulf Appearance: Nickname: Mara, Bella, Wolfy (because of her love of wolves) Age: 24 Fae properties: Half Fae, she has the gift of animal companionship Personality: She is one of those that tends to wear her emotions on her sleeve. She is loyal to a fault to those she calls friends. Can be quite playful at times and is a big daydreamer. She is very adventurous and is almost always looking for a new adventure. Generous and kind to all those she meets. She is also one that's not easily angered. Bio: Marabella had a pretty wonderful childhood, she had two loving parents who did just about anything for her, a roof over her head, food in her belly, and a wolfdog named Killian for a best friend. She was about a year old when her gift came to reveal itself. It all started with her and Killian getting extremely close, then him becoming severely protective of her when it came to anyone but her parents getting close to her. As she got older, the bond between them grew and they became inseparable and always watched out for each other. It also became clear she had formed bonds with other animals, most of them being canines that would follow her home much to her parents' dislike and feared it a bit. Though Killian never allowed any to enter the house. Even Marabella had them stay outside, but they would linger around the house and come and go as they pleased. When she was ten years old, she lost her parents in a mysterious way. Not really ever figuring out what truly happened. She ended up going and living with her Aunt and Uncle who didn't live that far away, took her and Killian in with open arms and no questions, and raised her as their own. She was happy that she had a family to go to, but the loss of her parents took a toll on her and she ended up closing in on herself. She almost stopped talking to her Aunt and Uncle, but hardly talked to any other person. She mostly kept to herself and pretty much only kept the company of the animals she befriended, only having a few people as friends. Going through school proved to be a bit difficult for her. She ended up having to register Killian as an emotional support animal so she could keep him with her at all times. She was considered strange and a bit of an outcast since she hardly ever spoke to anyone other than those she trusted enough to become her friends. As time went on, she slowly came out of her shell and started to talk more until she was almost a completely different person, all thanks to her friends and Killian. Now out of school and an adult, she has found herself a job working at an animal rehabilitation center. Other: Killian</s> <\|message\|>Eris Cloverton Eris Cloverton Bright and sunny, there was a gentle breeze flowing through the town of Arrow Oak. There was a very subtle chill in the air, the first traces of fall. Eris honestly couldn't picture better weather for today. She was packing the last of her supplies into her car, double checking to make sure she wasn't missing anything. It had been a while since she'd been camping, and she was excited to catch up with her friends. Once sure she wasn't missing anything, Eris started on her way to the campsite to meet the other's there. It was a bit of a drive, out of the town and into the surrounding woods. It wasn't too often anymore Eris got out of town. While she had a garden and many houseplants to satisfy her love for nature on a daily basis, it was extremely refreshing to be away from the town and fully immersed in the natural world. It was hard to explain, but there was just something about being out in the forest that felt so welcoming to her, like she was at home. She parked her car in the small parking lot near the trailheads, deciding she would wait there for her friends before venturing into the woods. Leaning against the trunk of her car, she sipped some tea from her thermos.</s> <\|message\|>Ella Rodericks (this is her human family name). Ella Rodericks Ella lay on the grass on top of a small hill, she was staring at the sun and watching fluffy clouds in the azure blye sky. Sheep, turtles, dragons, bunnies were floating by and they seemed to greet her. Today seemed to be a great day to have fun! The red-haired young woman stood up and looked at her silhouette she left behind in the flattened grass. "That was such a cosy spot to lay on", she thought and she smiled with gratitude. Then Ella picked up her small backpack and put it on. She carried her red backpack with her at all times. Ella looked into the distance and there she saw the forest she planned to be in a little while. Next to a nearby tree was her unlocked bicycle, Ella picked it up and hopped on it's sadle. She ringed the bell a few times and rode downwards off the hill towards the forest. Ella loved to whistle while bicycling and she would whistle to any bird she'd see. After a few minutes the hill was behind her and Ella was halfway to the forest already.</s> <\|message\|>Marabella Wulf Marabella Wulf Today was a beautiful day, and the first signs of fall were showing themselves. Bella stepped out her front door with some supplies in hand for camping and stopped on the porch. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath as the breeze caressed her face. Opening her eyes, she looked to her right and down at Killian, who had some supplies in his mouth. "This is a perfect day to go camping. Don't you think, Killian?" she asked the wolf-dog. Killian's tail wagged, and he gave a bark behind the supplies he was helping Bella carry. She smiled down at him before heading to her car and putting everything in the already opened trunk, then turned to Killian to take what he had and put it in the trunk also, but he ended up doing that himself. Jumping up and placing his front paws on the bumper, he dropped what he had into the trunk, then jumped down. "Thank you, my good boy." she cooed as she reached over and scratched his head. "Let's go get the rest and make sure we haven't forgotten anything." With a bark and a wag of his tail, Killian ran back to the front door with Bella behind him. She watched him disappear into the house with a smile on her face, only to see him reappear in the doorway a moment later, just before she could reach the first step of the porch. She stopped and laughed as she looked at him standing in the doorway with his tail wagging and his blue ball in his mouth. "We definitely can't forget that." she laughed. Making her way up the steps, she walked inside, scratching Killian's head as she slid by him. Once inside, she went to her bedroom and scanned it to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything she may need or wanted to take with her. Walking to the head of her bed, she grabbed the necklace that was hanging on the bedpost, then slid it over her head to rest around her neck. The necklace was a silver chain with an anchor of silver and gold, a silver and a gold feather, and a wolf made from Lapis. Bella then headed to the kitchen, grabbed her water bottle off the counter and Killian's little travel bag. Heading back to the living room, she stopped to scan the room for anything that hadn't made it to the car other than the cooler, her jacket, and Killian's harness. Walking over to the cooler, she sat her water bottle and Killian's travel bag on it, then grabbed his harness off a hook by the front door. As soon as he saw it, his tail wagged wildly, and he made his way over to her for her to put it on him. "That's my good boy." she said warmly as she knelt down. After getting his harness on, she stood, extended the handle on the cooler, grabbed her water bottle, her jacket off a hook by the front door, and headed back out to the car with Killian in tow. She opened the back door of her car, slid on her jacket, and put Killian's travel bag in the back seat and her water bottle in the cupholder up front, then put the cooler in the truck before closing it. Walking back to the back door, she closed it and walked to the driver's door. "Looks like that's everything." she said as she opened the driver's door. As soon as the door opened, Killian jumped in and made his way over to the passenger's side, and she laughed as she looked in. "Let me go lock up and we'll be ready to go." she told him. "I also hope you've done your business. It's a long drive there." Killian dropped his ball into the seat and gave a bark as Bella turned from the car and walked back to the house. Killian took this time to get out and do his thing before jumping back into the car and getting back into the passenger's seat. After locking up the house and getting back to the car, she started it and started the long drive to the campsite. It felt like it had been forever since she had been out of town. It felt great to get the chance to get back out into nature. Once she arrived, she parked her car next to Eris's car, killed the engine, and got out with Killian after attaching his leash to his harness. "Hey, Eris! Long time no see!" she greeted Eris warmly as she shoved her keys into her jacket pocket.</s> <\|message\|>Zephyr Deniel The chill in the air didn't bother Zephyr, a nice side effect of his gift. He had taken a few days off work for this trip. Normally he'd much rather use his time off to catch up on his massive backlog of video games he had to get through. But he never could say no to Eris and her desire for adventure, and as much as camping may not be his ideal vacation it would be nice to catch up Eris and the others. He had spent the day making sure he had everything he would need for roughing it in the woods. Most importantly was a self inflating air mattress, Zephyr had slept on the floor of a tent with only a sleeping bag before and never again would he subject himself to that. His back got a little sore just thinking of it. Once he was satisfied he had packed all the creature comforts he would need he got in his car and started a drive to the campsite, listening to an old favourite episode of a podcast he loved. He got to the spot and despite priding himself on being early to most things he found he was the third of four to get there. Oh well, at least he wasn't last. He got out of his car and stretched, despite not minding the long drive he still felt sore after sitting and basically not moving for a long while. "Heya girls, long time no see." he casually walked over to them, still stretching his arms over his head.</s> <\|message\|>Eris Cloverton Eris Cloverton "Hey, Mara!" Eris greeted her friend, grinning. "And, of course, hi Killian." It had been a long time since she had seen either of them. Last time she could recall was at Killian's last vet appointment, so it definitely had been too long since they got to hang out. Eris had friends of all kinds but she always felt it was neat that she and Marabella were so similarly gifted. After all, anyone who was a friend to animals was a friend to Eris. "How have you guys been?" Opening up the trunk of her car, she looked through her things and pulled out a little bag. "Would Killian like a treat?" Eris always had some on hand. It wasn't too much longer before others showed up, which Eris was glad for because she was ready to get out deeper into the woods. "Zephyr!" She said excitedly, happy to see her best friend there. Though she knew that Zephyr wasn't too big on things like this but she also knew it wouldn't be the same without him there. "I'm so glad you came. I forgot my matches for the campfire." she joked, nudging her friend with her elbow. "Kidding. But seriously, I'm happy you're here. We don't get to hang out enough anymore." "So there are a few different paths we can take. I've only hiked one of them, a few months ago to get an idea of the area but that just means more opportunity for adventure." What fun would this be without a little adventure, right? Something about the forest always invoked Eris' curiosity and explorative nature. Where would the paths lead? What sights would be seen or plants or animals found? She just had to find out. One time, as a teen she'd hiked off trail letting nothing but the wildlife guide her. Animals knew where all the real treasures of the forest could be found, after all.</s>	<\|message\|>Marabella Wulf Bella smiled warmly at Eris as she greeted her and Killian in return. It even made her smile more as she used one of her nicknames instead of calling her by her full name. It felt like it had been ages since she had last seen her, which was Killian's last vet appointment. She and Killian made their way to the back of the car, and she shrugged at Eris's question. "Eh, we've been alright. Nothing too much to complain about." she said with a small laugh. They both watched as Eris made her way to her truck and pulled out a small bag, then Bella laughed at her question and looked down at Killian. Killian barked in response as his tail was wagging wildly and his tongue hung out of his mouth happily. "What a question to ask." she laughed. "This guy would eat treats all day if I let him." Killian made his way over to Eris and sat down in front of her with his tail still wagging as he looked up at her. Bella then leaned herself against the trunk of her car with her arms crossed over her chest as she watched Eris and Killian as they waited for the others. When she heard a car approach, she looked up and watched as the car came and parked. A warm smile came to her lips as she saw who stepped out of the car and stretched before greeting them. She listened as Eris spoke to him first and couldn't help the laugh that escaped her at the joke she threw out. "Hey Zephyr!" she greeted in return. "Glad you could join us." She really was glad that he could join them, even though she knew he wasn't big on things like this. Not to mention, it wouldn't be the same if they all weren't there together. When Zephyr made it to them, Killian turned his attention away from Eris and to Zephyr. Killian gave a small whine and nudged Zephyr's leg with his nose as a greeting, his tail still wagging happily. As Eris spoke about different paths they could take, a look of thought overtook Bella's features. She had no problem taking a path that was less traveled, but that could be because she loved to be out in nature and go where it led her most of the time. "You know me, I'm always up for a good adventure." she said, the excitement showing in her tone and a sparkle in her eyes. "So, you pretty much know what my vote is for. And if we end up getting lost, it's not like we don't have a way of asking for directions." she added the last bit with a laugh and smirk. Bella then reached over and gave Killian a scratch behind his right ear before looking back at Eris and Zephyr to see what path they would want to take.</s>
<\|description\|>Olivia Jay Hero Name: The Punisher Age: 28 Gender: Female Family: Olivia was disowned when she turned 18 and thus does not have a proper family anymore. While they are still in contact with their siblings, Olivia has distanced herself from every facet of her former life. Jessica Jameson - Sister John Jameson - Brother Occupation: Olivia is currently employed by a local coffee shop and moonlights as a stand-up comedian. While she would love to be full-time with the latter, the insurance offered by the former is too good to pass up. Appearance: Olivia has never really stood out in a crowd, standing at a comfortable height of five feet seven inches tall and with a lithe frame hidden beneath layers of clothes. Her hair is an organized mess, and it is always one color or the next and cut short in one area and long in others. She maintains three tattoos, all hidden beneath her sleeves. While she is new to her super-powered status, Olivia has used her skills with Cosplay to get a rudimentary costume created. At its core, it's a simple combination of clothes that she had bought but never wears. A simple pair of high-waisted black jeans rest overtop of a pair of fashionable, yet durable, boots that make up the base of the ensemble. She wears a tight but thin, black hoody underneath a rose pattern leather jacket that zips up to the midpart of her neck. The hood is always up and hides the face underneath while the bottom of the hoodie is tucked neatly into the pants. She wears a custom-made LED mask on her face with two preset selections for the lights. The first is the one that she likes the most, and it simply illuminates the face with a laughing look. The second option turns that smile right side up and reveals a frown. She calls her current outfit Comedy and Tragedy. Superpower: Gift of gab Olivias power stems from her voice. She has not had a lot of time to explore it, but she has learned enough to know the basics of how to use it. Her words can carry suggestions. Some weak, and some much more powerful. These suggestions can compel people to do something that she is thinking of. She can drive someone to adopt an animal from a kill shelter, buy her dinner, and even step in front of traffic if she so desires. While she has not had the amplest time to explore this further, she is confident enough with it. Her most potent suggestions are moved by her jokes. These jokes are often puns or a simple play on words. The more simple the joke, the more restrained the effects. A simple one can cause even the most seasoned henchmen to groan in disgust, throw up their hands, and walk away from the scene. An elaborate joke, however, can cause henchmen to turn on their leader. From what she has explored, this power is something that has to be engaged to work. She can have whole conversations with people without compelling someone. As soon as she thinks about the desired outcome, however, the words will affect those targeted by them. Skills: Mean cup of joe: As a barista, Olivia is very well versed in making a decent cup of coffee. Whether this is actually making a cup from good beans or not, most of her creations shall be tasty enough. Jokester: Olivia has always been one who wants to lighten the mood. As such, she is quick with her jokes and even quicker to raise the spirits of her friends. Invisible to most: As someone who wishes to never be perceived, she has found a way to achieve that by blending in with most crowds. Whether with a simple hat and pair of sunglasses or more, she can make herself invisible. Personality: Olivia has experienced her life up to this point as one baptism by fire after the next. From her confusing childhood, self-actualization, disownment by her family to the crushing realization that society as a whole would rather see her as a statistic than being herself, Olivia has seen and overcome all the trauma that has been thrown her way. This has come at a cost. Slow to trust and even slower to embrace strangers as friends, Olivia constantly keeps her distance from others. Olivia often seeks to isolate herself from the world for days on end when her mental health dips. She does not like to burden others with her burdens. As such, she will almost always pretend to be this happy-go-lucky person. She will wear these mental masks and keep her true self hidden from most, if not all. To her close friends, Olivia will always be their loudest supporter and most fierce protector. Biography: Disowned by her family at the age of eighteen, Olivia does not talk about her formative years. Since that date, she has bounced from college to working a dead-end job, back to college, and back to another dead-end job. While Olivia has struggled to keep herself afloat, she has survived and has recently started to thrive. Throughout the years, she has always had a fascination with the heroes of the world, and she wished they could do more than just fight the overt villains. That was until she discovered her power a week ago. It was a simple night like most others. She was at a friend's house discussing an upcoming stand-up appearance she was going to make. Her friend dangled a carrot for a pun, and Olivia pounced on the easy joke. Yet her voice felt different as she spoke, and it felt more powerful. As the joke left her mouth, her friend's eyes fogged over for a brief second before they returned to normal. Her friend let out the biggest groan Olivia had ever heard, got up, and left their own apartment, all the while muttering about how awful it was. Olivia, of course, followed her friend, trying to calm them down. After a few minutes, their friends' eyes once again fogged over. As the clarity returned back to their eyes a moment later, they gasped. The panic in their eyes alerted Olivia to the fact that something strange had happened. After a few more mistakes with her power and the realization that she could compel people with her words, Olivia took it upon herself to simply shut up. All of that was the result of a stupid play on words with a specific electric pokemon name. As the days turned into the first week with her power, Olivia realized that she still had much to learn. All the same, she feels an obligation to the world to be one of its new heroes. Anything Else: (Stuff not covered by the above sections that you'd like to include or not)</s> <\|message\|>Robin Buschell Robin Robin's mind worked quickly, as the blasts began to form in Thundercloud's hands. A quick glance around demonstrated that Robin was no longer alone. Who were these people? New heroes, hopefully. He hadn't seen them arrive, having been focused on Thundercloud. He took a moment to chastise himself. It would've been bad if one of these people had come to Thundercloud's aid, and here, Robin didn't notice they came. Seeing that the blasts were aimed not just at him, but those around him, Robin immediately threw his talismans at the ground in front of himself and the other people. Where the talismans landed, a flash indicated a barrier, transparent like a window, appeared. Robin didn't know how strong the blast was, but he didn't think the barriers would last long. As he heard someone shout "I really hope none of you are with him," he immediately turned to pick up the woman behind him (inadvertently, and subconsciously, resorting to a princess carry,) and flew to get out of the way in case the barrier failed. He landed a short distance away, and put the woman back down. Producing more talismans, Robin returned his gaze to Thundercloud. "You dare mock the sacred incantations of the Onmyouji?!" Robin said, as his attention shifted slightly to the henchmen who were running in after the blast. He decided to focus on the Storm Troopers, knowing that Thundercloud on his own was a match for him at this current time, and possibly the others here. "If you're all here to help, I suggest we try to isolate Thundercloud! He's the biggest threat in every way possible, but I don't think we can easily deal with him if he has backup!" Robin threw Talismans at the henchmen rushing in, the small bursts from the paper exploding against their body armor. The armor was relatively unscathed, but one of the henchmen wearing it was sent down to the ground. The man was dazed, and would certainly have trouble getting up after feeling what felt like a dropkick to the chest. Robin took off again, holding Talismans in his hands as he floated in the air.</s> <\|message\|>Sarah Locke Nobody Thundercloud responded to the attack, which seemed to wake him up and get him excited. As he barked orders to his underling, Sarah's avatar peeked around the desk to watch and listen. 'The truck! That must be the getaway vehicle. If I can stop that, Thundercloud's plans are toast.' She identified the truck as the underling approached it. She crawled out further and began to focus, hoping to make it hers. But her heart stopped as she realized that the big man had also caught a glimpse of her. The two locked eyes for an instant as Thundercloud started charging and firing off his electric blasts. A large one sped towards Nobody, threatening to overwhelm and destroy her. A "No!" rang out in a scared, girlish voice from the vicinity of the mannequin. Just before she was destroyed, a barrier of light went up and protected her. On impact the shield crackled and eventually shattered in a small explosion. "Thank… you…" the puppet said in shock. But she came back to and started focusing again. She had been given enough time to work, and she wasn't going to waste it. The mannequin fell limp on the ground. Across the lobby, a thug had just started the truck and was mashing the gas, but to no avail. "Damn thing doesn't wanna work." The thug leaned out the door and said "Hey boss the truck is acting weird." Just then, the vehicle lurched, knocking him from inside. The door seemed to close on its own. It locked itself and the truck went into reverse, jerking backwards and accelerating unexpectedly. THUMP. THUMP. Two of the thugs had just been hit and rolled over by the huge machine. The truck came to a stop, and Sarah threw her new toy into drive. It started moving again, this time back towards the others and the front exit. She hoped she would be able to hit Thundercloud on the way out, but even if she was only able to get the car out of the building, it would ruin the villain's plan. The truck squealed as it gained speed, it's headlights blaring towards its target: the big man in the grey suit. Sarah thought it was a good move. If he destroyed the truck with a lightning burst, it would have a good chance of destroying the money as well. If he didn't evade well enough, he might be at the mercy of her fellow heroes. ' "Fellow heroes", huh? Sarah liked the sound of that. She might have smiled, if she had a mouth.</s>	<\|message\|>Olivia Jay Olivia INTERACTIONSROBIN "Did he just," Olivia paused her thought as she floated through the air. "He did; he just picked me up," she continued. As she found her feet on the ground once more, she turned towards the man who had carried her away. "Could you be any more cliche Tuxedo Mask?" She shouted. In her mind, she pushed her power to compel the man to apologize, yet it did not affect him all the same. Twice she had used her powers on those who had one, and twice they had failed. Olivia knew she had stepped into the unknown when she walked through those doors. Oh, how quickly things have spiraled from there. Her powers don't work on powered individuals, she was princess-carried away from danger, and the villain was much more dangerous than the stories foretold. Was she cut out for this? Could she be a hero? These thoughts clouded her mind again, but she knew she could not dwell on them for long. Once again, she pushed them back and walled them away from her conscious thought. She would deal with them later. This "Mamoru Chiba" like individual did spur an idea. She did not need to fight Thundercloud herself when she could compel his soldiers to do it for her. In an instant, her feet carried her towards the henchmen who had started to fill the lobby. She did her best to keep out of sight, darting from pillar to pillar. Her mind raced with an idea or two; she needed the perfect joke for this. She watched as the paper talisman impacted the first henchman through the door, forcing him off of his feet. Olivia stopped a few meters away and came face to face with a pair of Stormtroopers. Her mind blanked for just a second at sight. "So your boss is kinda a big deal round here, eh?" She delivered the joke, using her hands to make the shape of a rather bulky circle around her stomach area. She compelled the two troopers to turn and fight off their comrades. She watched intensely as their eyes fogged over, making them her thrall. "Pun Patrol, you know what to do," she finished her command as she dove for cover behind a pillar. The two Stormtroopers slowly turned and faced their former comrades. "Is it me, or has the boss been a little rough around the edges today?" The first Stormtrooper asked, rubbing his belly as he did, as he raised his weapon with the other hand, opening fire. Though usually, the sound of gunfire would be painfully evident, it was matched slightly by the squealing sounds of tires on the tile floor. Olivia turned her head to catch the sight of an unmanned truck barreling its way towards the villain with a thunderous roar. "What in the ever-loving-" Olivia paused as she pondered if this too was another hero. She had never seen a truck hero before, but who was she to judge that particular power. Her head tilted and a smug grin spread across her face. She turned her attention towards the villain, waiting to see what he would do next.</s>
<\|description\|>Kane Grimwolfe (Actually Spencer Flowers) Hero Name: MidKnight Age: 27 Gender: Male Family: Jordon Flowers [Father], Mary Ann Flowers [Mother], Agatha Flowers [Sister] Occupation: Cashier at a head shop Appearance: Kane stands fairly tall at 6'4" (193cm), typically wears dark clothes spanning grayscale colors with black being the most prevalent. He likes to wear chains and silver jewelry (never gold). His hair is dark and long, falling past his shoulders. He's not keen on full beards, but is known to let a little scruff grow and will often wear eyeliner. Despite no longer being an athlete, he keeps a pretty fit physique. Superpower: Sparkly Rainbows. Not exclusively, but that's how his abilities manifested. Kane Grimwolfe, Edgelord Supreme, can emit sparkly rainbows out of his palms. Were a scientist to study Kane's abilities, they would conclude that Kane has the innate ability to bend light to his will. Were Kane to become more advanced in his powers, he might discover that he can force light to cloak him, rendering him almost invisible. He might discover how to focus light in an offensive manner in the form of a laser beam. But today, at this moment, the hero known (by virtually no one) as MidKnight can make sparkly rainbows. Skills: Kane is well versed in body language, usually able to read between the lines when interacting with people. He is also an avid reader and is quite intelligent about an assortment of subjects. Despite how he looks, he grew up with a family that loved to camp and hunt, which left him with honed survival skills as well as a fair sense of marksmanship. Equipment: Smartphone, makeup compact, handcuffs, light armored vest with enough durability to stop small arms fire, but not much else. Personality: Sarcastic, super dorky, intelligent, easy going and hard to rattle - Kane may be slow to open up to people, but once you get passed his walls, he's usually good company. Despite his gothic persona, there is a happy-go-lucky kid living inside of him. He is just slow to let that kid out. Biography: Spencer Flowers was born into a picturesque family. His mother doted upon him, his sister loved playing board games with him and his father would often take him out camping and hunting. He loved sports growing up, and even took a few lessons in karate. He was a great student and an excellent athlete. Then came the day that he'll never forget. His mother and father sat he and his sister down and disclosed to them that life was about to change. His parents explained how sometimes people can fall out of love and that their father would be moving out. His parents reassured he and his sister that it was no one's fault and that their love for their children would never go away. Regardless, Spencer felt broken. He was tired of pretending to be the picture perfect family. He started dressing in monochrome, he dropped out of all his sports activities and he became introverted. Soon some like-minded lost souls that hovered outside of the typical social circles took him in. They introduced him to new, more intense music, updated his wardrobe with a more gothic tone, and even gave him a new name to match his new persona. Kane Grimwolfe was born. Kane finished high school, but skipped college. He jumped from retail job to retail job, never giving any of them his full effort. Each one was a means to an end: he needed a paycheck, they needed a cashier. Then one day things changed. The meteor hit. He immediately felt the affects on his body. His skin tingled, but he couldn't figure out what to do about it. He recalled the history of the fallen heroes of the past that had succumbed to the virus and couldn't shake the feeling that he might share a sort kinship with them, for better or worse. Out of desperation, he decided the only way to activate the power within was to put himself in a distressful situation. He used the bulk of his paycheck to buy a Kevlar vest and some handcuffs before setting out into the night to catch some hoodlum for a petty crime - nothing too serious, just something to get his feet wet. He found his target in the form of a mugger who was trying to rob a person at the ATM with a knife to their back. Kane bit his lip, pointed his palms, and shouted out with all of his might... That's when it happened. Rainbows shot from his palms and hit the mugger in the face, blinding him, if only momentarily. Shocked and confused, Kane made the most of the distraction and kicked the mugger to the ground, apprehended the knife, and locked the cuffs on the crook before alerting the police. Since then, Kane has been trying to figure out what it all means, what these powers are for and how he could properly utilize them.</s> <\|message\|>Sarah Locke Nobody Sarah was disappointed when the villain ably reacted, shutting down her machine's power in an instant and eventually bringing the vehicle to a stop. The headlights went dark as the electronics all ceased to function. For a moment the truck seemed to drag itself forward, in spite of the lack of power, and even in spite of itself. It crept a few feet closer to Thundercloud, before stopping again. Sarah felt a strange and new sensation - a sort of burning and pressure that made her feel like veins were going to pop because of the effort. 'Ugh... this is too hard. I've gotta find another way.' Nobody looked around the room for a new method, but nothing jumped out at her immediately. Thundercloud was proving to be extremely powerful. It was all the young heroes could do to stay on their feet! 'What beats lightning in the comics? It must be... rubber...' Sarah hatched a plan and started putting it into action. The lug nuts of the front left wheel began to turn under her ghostly influence. It wasn't long before the distinct ringing sound of metal was heard as they fell to the hard floor of the lobby. At that time her opponent was summoning up more power and blasting lightning all over the place, blowing out the windows of the building. She wasn't a direct target, but some of the arcs slapped against the truck as they passed and shattered all its glass as well. The truck lurched again, this time leaning over as its tire popped off and began rolling around. The heroine had made it her new body. First it circled back behind the truck and made its way around the room, gaining speed - before flying back at Thundercloud with enormous momentum. It was a heavy duty tire, which would be difficult to deal with even if it didn't have such a high velocity. Sarah planned to bowl him over with it!</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Jay Olivia "Oh shit," Olivia screamed as she pulled her body entirely behind the pillar. Behind her, the electric attack smashed into the concrete. Parts exploded outward, sending dust and debris flying. The thunderous roar of the electric strike overwhelmed Olivia's senses for a brief moment, bringing her back to the reality of the situation. She pressed herself harder against the pillar as another strike came in, letting out a small yelp as she did. Her thralls had been dispatched by the thunderous strikes of their former master. The villain had acted quickly to regain control of the chaos and had started to show off his incredible power. "How can we win," Olivia thought to herself as she peered from behind cover. She watched as one conjured a pair of large rods and as Tuxedo Mask spoke to a cat. The truck hero had been stopped in its tracks by a single gesture from the villain. "Where did the cat come from?" Olivia pulled herself back. Had she lost her mind? Why was there a random cat amid a super-powered brawl? Had she finally snapped and lost control of her mind? "Breath, me, breathe," she whispered as she once pressed her weight further into the collum. Olivia knew this was not the time to have a breakdown. Another blast of electricity came, digging through the tile floor, forcing her knees into her chest in an instant. Another explosion struck close by, causing Olivia to pull them even deeper instinctually. "What can I control, what can I control," she repeated to herself. Maybe she could try to use her power on the villain again? No, she quickly shook that thought away as she knew that her ability did not work on heroes and villains. While she could try, all the same, this was not the time for that. She did know her powers were effective on the henchmen, and she peered around the corner once more and took in their situation. That had opened fire on another hero, pinning the so-called "Midknight" down. There were still quite a few of the henchmen left. She had never tried to use her powers on more than a person, or two, at a time. What would happen if she tried it on them all? Pushing against the pillar, Olivia slid up and found her feet underneath herself. Another breath in, and out, and in again as she cleared her mind. What if she did allow a quick experiment of her power? "Do I even have a joke?" Olivia focused every ounce of strength she had available into her power. In her mind, the situation played out. She would compel the troopers to drop their weapons and give themself up to the authorities outside. Their focus was on the Midknight individual, and they shouldn't be able to react to her. Safe, no bullet holes, and another batch of villains turned over to the authorities. That would allow the rest of the heroes to focus their attention squarely on the main attraction. While she was unsure how this attempt would play out, she knew she needed to try something different. And she did have the perfect joke to compel a group of rabble-rousers. She pushed off from the pillar, took a step to the side, and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Hey! What do you call a group of rude criminals going down a flight of stairs?" She focused hard on her intended effect as she spoke, hitting a mental block as she did. The more power she forced in, the more she tried to compel the group, the less she could think. Her mind blanked entirely in that instant. As a panic set in, she skipped a breath or two as her mind became barren of all thoughts. The few ideas she had were to compel them to do something, anything even, but nothing specific came to mind. The power welled in her mind, not fully released, and nobody compelled. Until, from nowhere, she finished her joke. "Condescending cons descending," she finished as she compelled the troopers to go outside and fight the cops. As her thoughts returned, a look of horror befell her face as she realized what she had just commanded these troopers to do. She watched as their eyes quickly fogged over and returned to normal. The troopers themselves took off in an instant, guns drawn, as they headed through the broken door and already shattered windows to the streets outside. "No, no no no, that not what I-" she whispered trying to fix her mistake before they got too far away. But she caught sight of a singular tire speeding around the lobby before taking off towards the villain. A singular laugh escaped her lips, before a second, and soon enough a cascade of laughter started. "I have lost my mind." Olivia finished the thought as the sound of gunfire erupted, and the battle commenced.</s>	<\|message\|>Kane Grimwolfe (Actually Spencer Flowers) Lafayette Financial Tower - Lobby "Emo," Kane scoffed as he flipped his hair out of his eye to get better aim. He then paused for a moment to consider how that must've looked... Something between a grunt and an abrupt growl rolled out of his throat as the disappointment in himself set in. That's when the first of the hechmen's barrel's lit up, followed by another and yet another still. Bullets exploded forth with a trajectory destined for Kane's midsection. He didn't move, however. Didn't even flinch. Kane knew what would happened next. He was invincible. As expected, the bullets collided against some invisible force field just in front of him. Kane's mouth curled into a smug grin. These idiots clearly didn't know who they were messing with. As thoughts of his own badassery swam in his head, Kane's eyes slowly drifted to the ground. That's when he saw them: the talismans. His eyes immediately shot back up and over to Robin with a look of renewed awe. I'm not invincible, Kane begrudgingly realized as his heart began to race a little faster. It's him. Him and his magic Post-Its.. As mayhem continued to erupt around him, Kane was left wondering what to do next. That's when he saw the freckled woman mount an ethereal looking spear into the ground. After a split second, the purpose clicked. He knew exactly what she was trying to do. Kane made a dash for her location, covering himself with a wild spray of bullets toward the storm troopers, intent on riddling their legs with holes. He wasn't going to be able to rely on Post It protection forever, he realized. A passive defense against the lightening would be best, if effective. "Hi there," he said smoothly to the young woman before turning to face the action once more. The wind was displacing some of the raindrops that were flowing in through the shattered windows. Kane had to squint to see through the watery debris. "This," he shouted through the sound of electricity and rainfall as he pointed at the rod in the ground. "Good idea!" Despite talking to her, his eyes were roaming elsewhere, trying to analyze the entire scene around them. There, over yonder, was the fast chick that manage to get a few hits in on the big man. She would be useful for an assortment of applications. And just over there was the woman who always tried to lighten the mood with a joke. The storm troopers never seemed to appreciate them, though, but they always gave her a pass after she delivered. Kane still wasn't sure what to make of that. He scanned the room again to locate the rest of the rag tag team. Just off to the side, Post It guy arguing with his pet cat, but he had lost sight of the shadowy looking woma- Wait... "Is that a fucking talking cat?!" he shouted out toward Mr. Post It. He then looked back to the freckled woman beside him. "You see that? Is that a fucking talking cat?!" Kane blinked a few times, as if doing so would make the cat disappear and set the world right again. He finally had to just shake his head and put a pin in that little source of wild confusion. Just then the rogue tire made its frontal assault. "I don't..." Kane let out a huff. "I don't even have the words." He then traded glances between Freckles, Miss Speedy and the energy rods. "Are those safe to touch?" He finally asked. He hoped so. He would love to see that Lightning Pig stuck with a fork at super sonic speed.</s>
<\|description\|>The Black Knight Age: ??? Race: ??? Appearance: A figure towering at a height of 7', clad in armor darker than the blackest of nights. If one looks close enough, the surface of the metal itself seems to roll and shift like an unseen tide... Or perhaps it's a trick of the light? Regardless, you should probably pay closer attention to that colossal maul of his. He has a reputation for crushing many a brave warrior with but a single swing of that weapon, and he seems to be looking your way... --- Background: Little is known of the Black Knight's origin. To many, it seemed as if he rose from nowhere. As if he'd merely one day stepped unto creation from the darkest pit of the underworld... Some suggest he may be an Oni, long since separated from his clan. Others think him to perhaps be a golem, fashioned by the hands of Lord Ahriman himself. Another such rumor is that he was once a general of one of the previous Demon Lords, attempting to make up for his prior failures under a new mantle... Countless rumors surround the knight, but who's to say which of them has any measure of accuracy? Only precious few know for certain. Skills and Abilities: Whereas many of Lord Ahriman's most trusted lackeys may be likened to a fine surgical instrument, the Knight would be more aptly described as a sledgehammer. His earth-shattering strength and massive weapon alone make him a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield; reducing entire squads of well-equipped soldiers to piles of liquified organs and rent steel in a matter of seconds... Those lucky few that have survived being in his presence often claim the unholy warrior radiates such an oppressive aura hatred and despair that most would sooner flee than face the monster, and that many struggle to even breathe in his midst. Fortunately such claims have been proven as pure myth. By who one might ask? By the Church of course! However in truth it is not his raw brutality, terrifying presence, nor even his armor; capable of wholly turning away all but the finest of unenchanted weaponry, that makes him so useful a servant. Aptitude for slaughter and being hard to kill are abundant traits in the denizens of Sheol. What truly sets the Knight apart from his many peers is his ability to suddenly manifest at any given battlefield without so much as a warning, only to vanish without trace the moment his bloody work is complete. This singular talent combined with his uncanny knowledge of human tactics has turned many battles in favor of Lord Ahriman's forces, proving him an invaluable asset to further conquest against the Goddess' army of mindless fodder. Quips: * The Knight speaks little, if at all. * It is considered fairly uncommon to spy the Knight alongside an army * His means of disappearance and reappearance is said to be known only to Lord Ahriman</s> <\|message\|>Once she was Katrina, daughter of the Knights of Valance, Weapons Expert Gold class. Now she usually just goes by Katrina and if she needs a last name Valance. In one of the many rooms of the castle of the self-professed Lord Ahriman there was a human woman sprawled out on a bed with her back against the headboard and her ankles crossed as they stretched out in front of her. There was not much in the way of personalization in this room, but of course the occupant currently on the bed had only taken possession of the room a few days ago. There were several weapons scattered about and on the table besides the bed was a glass of water that had not been touch and would not be touched and a stack of books that also hadn't been touch and would most likely be touched in the near future. The woman had taken a few books for her host library to pursue at her leisure and was reading one now. They were all histories of various conflicts between Heroes and Demon Lords and she was finding them quite interesting. Do to her upbringing she knew most of these stories already, but reading them from the other side was proving enlightening. The most enlightening fact she got was that both sides of the conflicts were practice liars. Though knowing that the histories were full of lies meant, with a little bit of deduction she could figure out a possible truth. In short, the woman was enthralled and didn't plan on ending her study anytime soon. The door to the room was closed but the window was not. It was though this window that a hawk shaped creature flew in to perch on the back of a chair, "We are going to be late Katrina." Katrina flipped the page of her book without looking up, "So? What do I care? Ahriman certainly won't. And if he does he'll just kill me so whatever. I carry a death sentence anyways and I rather have a demon kill me than let the Valances have the satisfaction." The bird shaped thing mentally spoke again, "If you die you won't be able to finish those books." Katrina paused her reading to look at the speaker. She wasn't sure what Rolf was. He was shaped like a hawk but given his habits of making good points and asking annoying questions she couldn't answer the human didn't think that's all there was too it. He might be a wizard's familiar of some kind, but she had no magic so probably not. He might be an angel or divine messenger but given the fact that they were currently in Sheol that was also unlikely. He was most likely a minor demon and that should worry Katrina, but too be honest she didn't care. She might also just be mad. She didn't care about that either. With a groan she pushed herself of the bed as she placed the book down, "Fine! Just how late are we going to be?" Rolf sounded amused, "Well, it was supposed to start at 1150. It is 1215 now." Okay, they weren't going to just be late. They were going to be extremely late. There was no way Katrina was going to go walking around in a Demon Lord's Castle without being fully armed and she wasn't going to rush either. As took her time to pull on her boots, fasten her breastplate and secure her hawking leathers. Then she double checked that every knife, all five of her swords, her whip, her battle fan, and all of her other countless weapons were precisely where they were supposed to be. She took more time doing that than she should have, but she didn't care and Rolf didn't rush her. Finally, Katrina left the room, not by the door, but by the widow. Since the meeting room was below her resting room it was the only logical choice. Her knees bent to disperse the momentum of dropping three stories and her legs protested with waves of pain. Katrina didn't even hiss as she ignored the pain as she began walking towards the meeting room. She did not slouch. For one thing being a practical walking armory didn't allow for that and for another thing her childhood training prevented it. So, yes, the woman's posture was perfect as she began her trip and Rolf flew down to rest on her shoulder. She still gave the impression of slouching as she moved. Maybe it was the hands in her pockets gripping the hilts of two throwing knifes. Maybe it was the blank look on her face. Or maybe it was just the disinterested air that completely surrounded her. Katrina finally made it to the hall and slipped inside without announcing her presence to anyone or anything. Despite seeming uninterested she took in everything she could see with a quick glace as she hugged the wall to slip into a corner to remain unobserved. Surprisingly it wasn't all demons. There were a more than a few mortals, a few dark magicians, and yes, a couple of demons. What the specifics of this particular collection were Katrina didn't care. She knew that in general they were all hear to hear Ahriman's crazy scheme on how to deal with the Heroes. Katrina had nothing personal against Heroes as a whole, but as people or persons she had a great deal against them. So, she would listen, for now. She wasn't going to eat or drink though. It all looked impressive and it was clear that several demons had already started feasting, but Katrina wasn't a fool. She had heard stories of both Heroes and Companions being stuck in Sheol after eating something there. She wasn't one hundred percent sure that was true and was willing to doubt it, but better safe than sorry. Right now, she just focused on the conversations. She was late and now needed to play catch up.</s> <\|message\|>Sebastian Slithers Sebastian Slithers Despair descends at Lord Ahriman's place. It cast a tall shadow similar to a snake's head as it walks through the corridor halls. A slender figure emerges from the entrance doors of the dining hall. It becomes more visible as it steps into the light. Shifting into something more human-like. "Pardon my tardiness, my Lord. But I run into some trouble with my experiments." It spoke in its dull and monotone voice. It was Sebastian, clad in his usual white surgeon coat with a black apron wrapped in front of it. As if he was running late and didn't have time to change his work attire for something more formal for the occasion. Nevertheless, He arrived to answer his Lord's call to a feast. "It seems one of my specimens didn't want to cooperate. I have simply no choice but to dispose of it. Such an untidy work actually, Good test subjects are so hard to find these days." Sebastian nonchalantly said, continuing with his excuse while adjusting his latex gloves. He sighed before making his way towards the banquet table. As he marches with his staff aiding him, Sebastian briefly flicks his forked tongue to check and smell his surroundings, monitoring anything that isn't sanitary as his paranoia kicks in. Surely, a massive gathering with all of the variety of demons, dark magicians, seasoned warriors, and other mythical creatures involved, these things would unintentionally invite what he hated and feared the most: germs. Despite the number of guests. The gloom and doom theme Lord Ahriman's fortress has. The massive feast that would spell contamination if not prepared right. Sebastian was pleased to know that His Lord knew how to keep his place tidy and disinfected; As expected. He then briefly curt a bow in front of Lord Ahriman, then proceeds to take his place at the massive table. Sebastian remained seated, minding his manners. He did not touch nor taste the abundance of mouth-watering food and overflowing booze laid in front of him. It was tempting yet he refuse to indulge himself in pigging out at the table. Not that he didn't like it. Oh no, It's just Sebastian thought to himself it's best to keep sober and attentive throughout the gathering. This meeting is all about business and pressing matters, Right? Why else Lord Ahriman summons forth his finest A-team hell has to offer?</s>	<\|message\|>The Black Knight "This damnable city is a fucking labyrinth!" After spending an entire week navigating the streets of this hellhole of a city Gale had only found Ahriman's castle less than an hour ago; and now found himself in the same hallway for the third time. Frankly, the former knight had been hesitant to even accept the Demon Lord's invitation in the first place even if it provided the perfect opportunity to strike at the very heart of the Church. "As if agreeing to hear out the proposal of a creature I've spent more than half my life training to kill wasn't bad enough-- I have to undertake a one man expedition to even FIND the damn meeting!" The mounting frustration of having to navigate days worth of winding passages of varying size and complexity finally surfaced in a string of curses as a raving Gale repeatedly kicked the nearest wall. By the time his nerves had calmed, the man had nearly split the toe of one of the boots he'd gotten just before braving the needlessly long trek through the endless complex of buildings and strongholds that demonkind called home. "Truly, only something so twisted as demons could design a city as torturous as this." Gale muttered to himself as he shook his head in frustration. At this rate, he was liable to miss the meeting entirely. "Maybe I could--" Before getting the chance to finish his thought out loud, a blur falling past a nearby window caught Gale's attention. The man's brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to determine what the hell he'd just witnessed. Did demons actually commit suicide? Or had a servant failed their lord for the last time and been simply tossed out the window? Regardless of the cause-- whoever had just fallen out the side of the building may have been carrying a map of the place, and Gale had every intent to make use of it for himself. Upon glancing out the window to determine if the demon's corpse was somewhere he could get to, the former knight was pleasantly surprised to find that it was neither a corpse or a demon that had passed the window... The person he'd seen drop was nothing other than a fellow human! Though Gale had no idea where the woman had jumped down from, the woman seemed like she'd taken quite the drop. Clearly she was in a rush to get somewhere fast. What were the odds she might be headed to the same meeting Gale was looking for? They were certainly better than him wandering aimlessly through these halls until he found the room he was looking for. "Bah, to hell with it then!" Prying open the window, Gale would follow the stranger's lead onto the balcony only a floor beneath him and tail her all the way to a lavish dining hall, stopping himself at the corner just before he'd enter the room. At long last he'd finally arrived at the meeting... But first, Gale needed to do one more thing before making his own entrance. --- In the doorway of the dining room; filled to the brim with fine foods and wine, the shadows seem to stir. Shapeless darkness became hardened edges, vague outlines focused into humanoid form, heavy steps echoed, the air grew heavy with cold, creeping dread. The Black Knight stepped into the dining hall, closing his fist and folding a single arm across his chest in salute to Lord Ahriman as the colossus would respectfully bow his head. Without so much as a single word the Knight took his place behind one of the table's many seats, opting to instead stand for the remainder of this gathering.</s>
<\|description\|>I Am Known As Serial Number Q5U4EX7YY2E9N Face Claim/Appearance: 1,997 liked this image Someone commented, "queen bodysuit supremacy" But You May Call Me... "QUEEN" Age: Old Enough To Legally Drink Battery Acid In 32 Countries (Ages 3 And UP) Gender: MILF Canon: Hmm Let Me See... Search Results State That I Originate From: Deltarune Chapter 2 Main Thread or Sandbox: I Prefer Not To Get Sand In My Vents Wait You Meant The Location LOL I Mean Sure Starting Location (SANDBOX ONLY): Calculating Coordinates... Ah I See Sources Inform Me That I Will Be Near A Facility Known As "Wayne Enterprises" in Metropolis Sources Also Tell Me That A Depressed Man In A Mascot Suit Hangs Out There IDK Why Lightners Keep Searching Him Up He Looks Homeless Personality: I Love Giant Mechs Vases With My Likeness Imprinted On Them Battery Acid Literally Nothing Else LMAO Im Easy To Please ... Okay Maybe I Love Noelle And My Round Son Too Theyre Funny To Look At Motivation: Well It Was To Generate Another Dark Fountain But Since Thats Out Of The Picture IDK LOL Id Go Home But Honestly This Place Looks Dope Maybe I'll Take Over It And Give Everyone Cool Robot Faces Equipment: I Have A Laser Pointer And Lots Of Safe Throwing Glasses Attributes: I Can Pull Up A Temporary Firewall That Can Block Attacks For A Short Period Of Time Unless It Becomes Severely Damaged Lots Of Lasers Cant Forget That Anyway Yeah I Would Totally Kick Your Ass Just Wait Until I Get My Mech Losers Biography: Now this is a story all about how My life got flipped turned upside down And I'd like to take a minute, just sit right there I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel-Air [Verse 2] In West Philadelphia born and raised On the playground is where I spent most of my days Chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool And all shootin' some b-ball outside of the school When a couple of guys who were up to no good Started makin' trouble in my neighborhood I got in one little fight and my mom got scared And said "You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air" I begged and pleaded with her day after day But she packed my suitcase and sent me on my way She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket I put my Walkman on and said "I might as well kick it" First class, yo, this is bad Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass Is this what the people of Bel-Air living like? Hmm, this might be all right But wait, I hear they're prissy, bourgeois, and all that Is this the type of place that they should send this cool cat? I don't think so, I'll see when I get there I hope they're prepared for the Prince of Bel-Air [Verse 3] Well, uh The plane landed and when I came out There was a dude, looked like a cop, standing there with my name out I ain't trying to get arrested yet, I just got here I sprang with the quickness like lightning, disappeared I whistled for a cab and when it came near The license plate said 'Fresh' and it had dice in the mirror If anything I could say that this cab was rare But I thought "Nah, forget it, yo, Holmes, to Bel-Air!" [Verse 4] I pulled Up to a house about seven or eight And I yelled to the cabbie "Yo', Holmes, smell ya later" I looked at my kingdom, I was finally there To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel-Air Other: Nah Bitch Get Me Out ---</s> <\|message\|>Shantae Lilith and Shantae Location: Mad Hatter's Arena And a bad idea it was, the moment that Lilith threw Joel's tea cup across the room was when The Hatter had enough of everyone's shenanigans, so he decided to take matters into his own hand and deal with this the hard way. Everything went black for a while after that until they woke up to find themselves standing on a giant stopwatch, endlessly falling through the air. Joel and Shantae seemed to be pretty confused about this whole scenario with Shantae following up to Joel's equal puzzlement "Wha-What's going on!?" She said in a frightful manner. But this ordeal wasn't going to get any better as The Hatter and his henchman suddenly appeared, along with Sougo, who was under the control of the crazy hat guy from drinking that tea. Maybe Lilith decision wasn't completely off board. So now the battle has officially begun with the bunny mask henchman and Sougo going on the attack, Lilith attacked the henchman using some of her spirit spikes and Shantae would notice that Sougo was about to attack Grey with his claw, thinking quickly she did one of her signature dances and turned herself in an elephant to charge after the armored individual. @Thatguyinastore @Crow @Paper94 @Attesa @davefromdiscord @TheElenaFisher</s> <\|message\|>Kurumi Amano / Nahobino Nahobino Kurumi Amano BOOM. That was the sound Nahobino heard when waking up. An explosion occurred, and their long, luscious lashes fluttered with haste, wildly awake and aghast. Where.. were they? This wasn't Da'at, this wasn't the Netherworld— But there was no time for that. The details of the predicament could come later. For now, they had to usher themselves out of such a perilous situation before they were caught in the crossfire. With an unsteady footing, Nahobino paused for a moment, fingers, eyes and luscious locks glowing alongside them. So did their galaxy-colored, futuristic, tailored jumpsuit. And seemingly appearing out of nowhere from nothing but the depths of the fusion's mind, manifested the Egyptian God of chaos and evil himself—Seth. A streamlined, pitch black dragon materialized from a luminous, crystallized blue light, dwarfing Nahobino and almost two large houses. --- "Young man. I am detecting several moving presences atop that building. It would be wise to investigate." Silently, Nahobino nodded at Aogami's advice and mounted the dragon and pulled on his reins, flapping them softly to alert the dark dragon to bound for the skies. With no words at all, Seth had already known what to do, as if in sync with its companion and master. With an abrasive gust of wind that shook the foundation of several buildings, the winged demon careened for the skies of poetic blue, sun-warmed, prickly yet free. They were carried above by warm updrafts. The fusion's collective heart beat hard—they could hear the wicked screams of others echoing in their ears, so they had to get up there and quick! The dragon let out a roar upon the Proto-Fiend's inner command as they rose to the top, descending with a crash as the dragon's talons landed through the building with seemingly zero damage, breaking the entire top off with its size alone. Well, what a way to debut for little Nahobino, eh? Interactions — @QizPizza @FactionGuerilla @MorgueofCrowz @Lazaro1505 @KageBaka @TheElenaFisher @SomeMekBoy @Crow @thatguyinastore</s> <\|message\|>Grey Grey Well, that's just great. So, after Grey, Lilith, and Shantae started objecting to the Hatter's demands, he took them all to this... weird arena made out of some... giant falling clock? None of this feels real to Grey- not entirely, anyway. It's like a really vivid dream. Backing up as he sees the men in masks appear out of thin air and begin to attack, he skeptically raises his sword... Only to nearly get clawed directly in the face by Sougo. His instincts kick in at the last second, and the fox narrowly dodges the claw by an inch. Alarmed, he dashes away from Sougo, leaving behind a trail of afterimages as he does so. "What the...? Hey, what was that for?!" Grey shouts at him incredulously, only for his eyes to light up as realization hits. The Hatter had wanted them to drink the tea. Sougo was the only one of them to actually listen to that request. That can't be a coincidence, can it? "Hold on a sec! I'm not who you want to fight!" he shouts at his mind-controlled ally. "The tea's messing with you!" Grey glances back at the others. It's a real good thing Joel didn't end up complying. He's got a newfound respect for Lilith and Shantae for speaking up, that's for sure. "Guys! I think bug-eyes is being controlled by the tea somehow! Maybe the other ones are being controlled, too! I'll deal with him. Focus on taking down the other ones!" The fox turns back to Sougo. "Look. I don't want to hurt you." @Kagebaka @Second2Last @davefromdiscord @Crow @TheElenaFisher</s>	<\|message\|>I Am Known As Serial Number Q5U4EX7YY2E9N Voss' CS Voss' Location: Metropolis Voss' Mood: Rootin' and lootin' Voss' Status: Healthy Voss' Inventory: Curved Saber A pair of Jakobs pistols (one is drawn and on the ground) Voss' Mentions: As Voss resumed his looting, Negan struck up a conversation with him. The sea captain hadn't bothered to look back at the man since he first questioned him. For the most part, Voss hoped that if he ignored him long enough, the other man would take off and Voss would once again be left to his own accord. When that didn't work, the older man shook his head and sighed. At least Negan wasn't immediately berating him for robbing the defenseless… as of yet. "... Well…ye'd never ken huat ye might find..." He retrieves a set of keys and tosses it just as his hands touch it. "... Maybe if ye find somethin' nice, like an' heirloom… ye can use it fer blackmail - if they's got family…" He then pulls out a wallet, briefly scans through its contents, and chucks behind him at Negan's feet. Whatever was in it, it had no value to Voss. "... If nay… I always like t' pitch it at rivals, watch 'em fight over it an' loot whoever's down…" He scoffed, but stopped once he begins collecting an unimpressive sum of coins. He frowns. "... 'Course," he continued. "Ye could always jest sell it. Which I might end up doin'. The last place I wanna be is 'ere savin' some nobodies from a man I donay give a shite fer… Maybe tear this watch off an' buy a ticket t' elsewhere… Oi, ye think this watch might be worth somethin'?" Voss finally turns back toward Negan to pull on the watch Luthor gifted everybody. To do this, he places his Jakobs on the ground, for the time being. The watch was wrapped around his wrist tight, but the stubborn old man was adamant that it was something that could be removed easily.</s>
<\|description\|>Ralsei Face Claim/Appearance: Age: 16 Gender: Male Canon: DELTARUNE Main Thread or Sandbox: Main Thread Personality: Ralsei is a kind soul who only wants to be surrounded by friends on thrilling adventures. His friendly demeanor and positive outlook on light is a beacon for some, but a blinding light for others. Such kindness leads Ralsei to care for other's health, and as a healer and hugger, he wants to heal your physical and mental pain at the same time. This means he's a valuable ally and powerful enemy, depending on which side of the battlefield you find yourself on. Taking on the role as a mentor is also in his skill set, despite his young age and apparent lack of experience, he stills hopes to teach whatever he can about combat, healing techniques, the environment, and laws of the land. Despite seeming like he has everything together, Ralsei suffers from not knowing who he is. His memory is just fine, that's not it, but he spent so many years alone, knowing his purpose in life, that he has trouble finding out just who he is supposed to be and how he wants to present himself to people. He's the kind of guy who writes a rough draft of a simple text message such as "hi", purely because he doesn't know what people will think of him if he sends the 'wrong" thing. His fatal flaw, is also, his kindness. While facing the evil King, he was very easily guilt-tripped into healing the King after he had been defeated by Ralsei and his friends, causing the King to get the jump on them, almost costing them their lives. Ralsei is very easy to manipulate, and is very susceptible to guilt. Motivation: Ralsei has a pretty simple mindset, he wants to keep everyone alive and healthy while also going on crazy adventures. Equipment: Ralsei uses a magic scarf as his weapon of choice. His current scarf is the Fiber Scarf, which gives a small bonus to his magic spells. Attributes: * Pacify- A spell that forces an already-tired foe to sleep. * Heal Prayer- A simple healing spell. Ralsei cloaks himself in light, raises his arm (or gives a hug) and heals an ally... or foe. * Fluffy Guard- Ralsei creates giant balls of fluff that act as force fields. * Sing- Ralsei sings a sweet lullaby that will make enemies tired, making way for Pacify. * Dual Heal- Only usable if Ralsei's magic is given a boost. Heals all allies. Biography: Ralsei is the prince of the once-named Empty Kingdom. He lived alone for years waiting on the two Lightners of legend (Kris and Susie) to arrive. Once they did, Ralsei joined the party, concealing his identity behind a robe (and later, hat) and helped the Delta Warriors along their way. Together, they defeated the King, and the Dark Fountain was sealed. Next, Empty Town was renamed to Playertown, and Ralsei remained it's prince. He had subjects now, as the Darkners from the Abandoned Classroom Fountain all moved in, as their own kingdom had vanished upon being sealed. Ralsei later accompanied Kris and Susie to Cyber World, where they battled the likes of Berdly, Spamton NEO, and Queen before Kris and Susie returned home, leaving Ralsei to wait in Playertown for their next adventure. That may be uh... interrupted. Other: This is Ralsei taken from the end of Chapter 2, having defeated all enemies using mercy, and after fighting Spamton NEO.</s> <\|message\|>Sephiroth A sick prank? A little game? Or a test from Mother. Which exactly was it now? It was curiosity that killed the cat.. but coming from a being known as unkillable, as the one true god of and ruler of earth.. surely he can afford to be curious. The old but surely not dead hero didn't care about how he got here. The exact details or why he was brought here were all irrelavant. He was never exactly the type to break his calm composure so easily. It was he who chose whether or not to 'feel', the ruthless and vengeful Sephiroth called the shots. Nobody, and nothing else. One-Winged Angel - Sephiroth. For a man in a situation like this, he was far too calm. Nothing disturbed him, nothing would. And yet his eyes were filled with a certain bloodthirst.. despite not speaking, he gave off the attitude and general vibe of somebody who would massacre your entire family, and make you watch him do it. To put it simply, he was not a man you would like, or want, to mess with. A very Angel of Death, taken human form.</s> <\|message\|>Dhar-ll Vallinor, The Chosen Hunter Natal, the Last Hunter Current Mood: Greatly Confused Physical Health: Physically fit as a rhino Mental Health: As fine as a nomadic lone hunter would be Before… all of this, he was alone, by himself, as always. He was currently traversing through the untamed wilds of the woods, slowly traversing the landscape as the man followed a trail of blood, as from the sky, his faithful companion was traversing the air, following him from above. As of now, he was currently hunting down yet another beast, one that will feed him and allow him to continue his own survival within the unforgiving woods. One dies, and with that death, another lives. Such how they circle of life is out here. And yet, it was rather strange when something had stung him on the back of the neck. Yet, he wasn't visibly disturbed by such. Perhaps it was a night insect that he had disturbed and as such, got stung in return. It wouldn't matter much, he had a far higher pain threshold than most others due to the blessings of the spirits that make him stronger, and as such, it wouldn't bother him and disturb him from his task. And yet, that pain didn't go away, slowly growing in intensity, that even his own higher pain threshold wasn't enough to stop him from recoiling in pain, and stopping in his spot as of a result from such pain. From above, seeing their companion in such a state, Wind flew down from the sky, the Eagle descending down and landing next to its owner, making small squaks that seem to be that of concern and worry, as Natal felt himself to begin slowly losing consciousness. It wasn't long after, that his body systems finally failed him, and into darkness he went. For what seemed to be an unknown amount of time later that seemed endless, he had finally woken up, eyes slowly opening as the very senses in his body returned to him. And what a strange place he had woken up to. Surrounded by stranger men and creatures, and encased seemingly in some sort of clear cage shaped like that of a square. The man slowly took a few steps away from the closest individual, his right hand drawing a iron dagger that has seen it's fair share of use, alert and ready to slice at the nearest hostile that comes into range. And yet, nothing 'hostile' came after him, for everything here was greatly confused, just like he was. Perhaps they were taken as well? But why…? It was then, a strange voice came from nearby, and looking towards it revealed some woman in strange cloth. And speaking the strange language that some travelers and strangers to the woods would say, they said something about… 'Luthor' calling them up? Was this the individual that trapped them here? But why would they want to meet up with them? Shouldn't they have already proven themselves to be far superior, if they had already caught these many individuals and at once he may say. Especially if the man was capable of harming an individual, even without being in eyesight, after watching a man who clearly ran his mouth a bit too much now, and got rewarded with pain. That was something to be wary of. And so, without another word being shed, the tribal decided to explore his new environment now, listening to sounds of conversation and what appears to be strange noises coming from nearby with the dancing green armies knight, the man walked up to one of the walls. Hmm… perhaps he can try and explore the top to see if the glass was weaker uptop, as he began to call upon the animal spirits of the wild to his aid. If successful, he would have found a dark green glow to envelop his arms and legs, occasionally flaring our, as if the energy was waiting to be used, to be utilized into a different form. Merely willing the energy into the shape he wanted, his hands and feet began to slowly form the green energy, slowly forming itself into that of seemingly, a set of lizard like limbs covered in scales. However, if one were to look at the underspot of of them limbs, they would have found it to be similar to that of a gecko's limb. Placing his hands onto the glass wall, he would have begun to traverse the wall up and towards the roof, mostly taking a look around and occasionally tapping upon the glass itself in curiosity. No words were shed from him. (Open for interaction)</s> <\|message\|>I Am Known As Serial Number Q5U4EX7YY2E9N Voss' CS (Reaction Images Coming Soon) Voss was floating down the Chicago River late one night in a small, ramshackle rowboat he constructed himself. The events of his latest adventure had left him tired, angry, and most importantly of all, ashamed. But he finally managed to flee to safety and was now making his way toward the Great Lakes. He likely wasn't going to find a way home there, but that was fine by him. He had given up hope a long time ago. His biggest priority now was finding solitude and away from the endless source of trouble Chicago had given him. The last thing he remembered was when the sea captain was nearing the city limits. At that point, Voss felt a sharp pain at the back of his neck and swatted at it. He believed some kind of bug just bit him, and he continued along his merry way until a short distance later when the sensation of pain suddenly became debilitating. Almost as soon as he was afflicted, the pain migrated to his head and gave him an agonizing migraine. His thought process became slowed and his peripheral vision became dark. The ex-Phantom attempted to move toward the gunwale of the boat with whatever energy he had left in case he were to get sick, but halfway there, his elbows gave out, and he hit his chin on the side of the boat as he collapsed. He rolled onto his back where he could face the stars. The numbing pain swiftly moved down the rest of his body, until his whole body was left paralyzed in a matter of minutes. Before he knew it, a buzzing blared in his ears before he inevitably fell unconscious... --- When Voss awoke, he was greeted by the barren grey ceiling above him. He hadn't even begun to look around, and yet he could faintly hear the confused mutterings of others around him as his hearing returned. He knew precisely what that could mean, and he prayed to every single god that could be out there that it wasn't the case. He shakily lifted his upper torso up with an arm behind him, and the other rubbing his chin which - at least from what he can feel - had a small gash. The pain soon began to radiate again as he came to. Voss hesitantly opened one of his eyes while he tended to his jaw. Unfortunately for him, his fears came true: the wide variety of the guests in the room suggested he was in another one of those "multiverse hell" situations. Upon spotting the dull woman in the room, the sea captain could help but mutter to himself as he tried to gently lay himself on his back again. "... Oh, feck me- AHK!!" His still weakened muscles gave out on him again, and he fell onto his back hard, hitting the back of his head in the process. Of course, he was fine that time, but it was enough to keep Voss down a little longer as his old body gradually recovered from his ordeal. Even with the whole scene the biker-looking man caused, Voss chose to remain on his back to take a breather. Best to stay that way. (Open for Interaction)</s>	<\|message\|>Ralsei Though he had fallen asleep under the faint glow of the Dark Fountain, Ralsei awoke in a strange, cramped cage. He wasn't alone, something he both was grateful for and sad to see, as many others of all shapes and sizes woke up around him. He barely had time to adjust to his new surroundings when he heard the bat-wielding man speak up... and the fall to the ground shortly afterwards. The sight made the fur on the back of his neck stand up, and he almost felt ill upon seeing the blood pool on the floor and the man's gagging. Hesitant to stand, the young prince slowly got to his feet, taking a moment to study the faces of those around him. Humans, a monster, a... dancing robot... and even more humans. Such a sight would have been impossible to see back in his kingdom. He wasn't in the Dark World anymore, that much was certain. Walking over to Red Riding Hood, Date, and Negan's position, Ralsei studied the collapsed man. He was in a miserable state, and Ralsei winced at the thought of the pain this man must be feeling. All this, just for being loud? Ralsei wasn't a fan of his inappropriate remarks, sure, but seeing the state he was in, the Darkner knew what had to be done. Holding his hands together as a warm, yellow light enveloped him, Ralsei swiftly lifted his right hand into the air, the golden light dissipating in an instant. To replace the golden glow however, came a series of green sparkles over Negan's body. Negan would feel some of his pain and damage be lifted from him, a result of Ralsei's spell. "That should help." Ralsei spoke softly with a small smile, the biggest he could muster at the moment, to whoever may be listening. "I think we should... keep our thoughts to ourselves for now." Sitting down on the ground, Ralsei's smile struggled to stay on his face. This wasn't the first time he had been locked up, but now? He didn't have Kris, or even Susie, by his side. He was surrounded by strangers for a purpose he didn't even know of. Was this punishment? Did he do something wrong? The fear was starting to build as he took a deep breath. "We could be here a while..." He said the group. "Let's get comfy." --- Beowulf Among the cast of trapped figures was a well-built man wearing clothing covered in wolf pelts. It would seem like this man was from the wild, someone who was raised by wolves and carried a fierce, primal personality. He wasn't. "Coulda like," He said, more annoyed than anything, pulling out a folding chair from seemingly nowhere. "Sent a card or something." Unfolding the chair, he placed it on the ground, and... Sat down, waiting for "Mr. Luthor" to show up. Open for interaction</s>
<\|description\|>Lucifer Morningstar Age: It's complicated. Gender: As Cis male as an Angel can be Main or sand: Main Personality: Lucifer has a complex relationship with many things, especially himself and his family. While he presents as extremely confident and full of himself, deep down Luci still hates himself. His personality may come off as rather uncaring, but still manages to show how he does care in some of the oddest of ways. Lucifer is able to gain connections all over from his charm and angelic nature. Passing out favors is how he ties so many to him out of need to repay the debt one day, cashing the debt in whenever he so chooses. A deal with the devil is often depicted as him stealing your soul, not your liquor. Lucifer has a strict policy on not lying, though will often leave out parts of the truth. To him it's not lying if you haven't said anything false, and he is very strict on his policy to never lie to anyone. Ask him just about anything and he will answer in some kind of truth. Equipment: Lucifer never carries anything on his person. With his invulnerability to anything not demonic or holy he has no need to be armed. Just his fists and the flask he has stored away in his suit is all Luci has ever needed. Attributes: Lucifer holds an immunity to everything non holy or demonic, it also gives him a major strength boost that acts in a similar way. He has bent metal, thrown a man through a window with a single push, guarded against an onslaught of bullets with just his wings, and survived being passed out in the American desert. Lucis strength has given him the upper hand in many situations, and is regarded as one of the strongest siblings. While he doesnt have any fancy powers, he makes due with his fighting knowledge. Lucifer's wings give him the ability to travel between dimensions, using them to get between earth and hell. On top of that his time spent in hell has given him an immunity to fire that he often flaunts off. To top off all his abilities Lucifer has the power to draw out desires, often using it in cases to help get a lead. Looking directly into someone's eyes allows him to pull at the deeper wants within, not many able to resist the pull. Aside from desires, any hints of his more devilish side has drawn people into fear and paranoia. Once he had drove a man into complete insanity with the mere look at his devil face. Some appeared to be almost immune to the paranoia effect, though almost everyone seems to react in even the slightest bit of fear. Bio: Lucifer was cast down from heaven after leading a rebellion against God that ultimately failed. Being banned from ever going back to heaven, he spent his time going between earth and hell to have his fun. After having enough of ruling hell, he abandons his throne to go live a life running LUX. Though this ultimately doesn't work out in any way that he hoped. Other: Lucifer has shown knowledge and connections with others in the multiverse, but apparently doesn't care enough if faced with the end of everything. He much rather spend his time not worrying about something he can't help with. Though when he does care about something he can get very angry.</s> <\|message\|>I Am Known As Serial Number Q5U4EX7YY2E9N Voss and Sanford's CS Voss' Location: Undetermined Voss' Mood: Craving Violence Voss' Status: Scratched up, but otherwise healthy Voss' Inventory: Curved Saber A pair of Jakobs pistols Voss' Mentions: [@teapartybs]@Thatguyinastore@Kagebaka@cadesmith@SomeMekBoy@TheRealMonaMona@ClownTown Sanford's Location: Undetermined Sanford's Mood: Oblivious Sanford's Status: Scratched up, but otherwise healthy Sanford's Inventory: A Meathook Sanford's Mentions: @Attesa@darkred --- "Who am I?" Sanford finally turned to face Grey and, subsequently, Thomas. His constant chuckling and overall attitude so far came off as very jock-ish to the two. It's a wonder how the grunt could be so enthusiastic when he visibly has these wounds across his face and body that drip black tar. He pouts. "I'm Sanford, A.A.H.W. butcherer extraordinaire! That's a fancy way of saying 'mercenary.' If you need someone like me to snuff a life out for ya and you got the cash, I'm the man! Aheha!" For emphasis, he withdrew his signature meathook and grabbed it by the wire to spin the hook around like a fan. He rotated toward Thomas while still spinning the bloodstained weapon. "Director of a spy agency? Doc would love you." --- Voss started to cringe heavily as Fret didn't let off on the questioning. If he could, without risking to experience what happened to the guy with the bat, he'd shut Fret up the only way he knew how: with good ol' violence! Like grabbing him and shaking him like a newborn baby! Of course, threats could work just fine, but Voss had a feeling Fret was so dense they'd fly over his head. Thankfully for the hateful captain, he never really got a chance to answer, as Fret instead focused his attention on the answer Tosai got, and then discarded the curious nature entirely. Voss swiped his brow in relief. "Phew! Aye, the pirate life, it's… uh… pretty cool I guess…" He almost brought that last part to a whisper before immediately returning it to his normal boisterous volume. He caught a glance of a blur flying across his peripheral and began to look around for where it came from. Voss rotated and stopped and rotated again in place several times in confusion, until eventually spotting Fret speaking to Negan in an angry, naive manner. Voss mindlessly followed Fret, now taking the role as the curious one. What exactly happened here? "Ey ey, let's settle down, aye? Who threw huat? Who said huat? Gimme the juicy details!"</s> <\|message\|>Red Riding Hood Red Riding Hood Mood - Overjoyed Status - Healthy Interactions/Mentions - @Midle1998 --- Upon hearing the Captain's surprised gasp, Red laughed a little before she was suddenly surprised by being lifted up in his arms, that once maintained smile being poisoned with panic - albeit panic that quickly passed. "Yeah, that's right - I'm here alright! You ain't getting rid of me this time!" She laughed a little more before being shook and held close and tightly - something she briefly reciprocated... before being put down and having her hair messed up. Of all the times her hood fell down, it 'had' to be while she was running to him, huh? "Well, I didn't intend to be in a glass cage today, but I woke up and here I am. But hey! Seeing as I'm here, it'd be a shame to waste the opportunity if we're not gonna get it for another long time!" With a bright smile up to him, she raised a closed fist up to him as she stared at him from such an angle. It may not have been a planned reunion, but no job is gonna separate them this time! ...Right?</s> <\|message\|>Age --- The scuffle involving the rat seemed to end well, with the rat unharmed and their clothing being repaired by some...mystic Force stone or some made-up stuff like that. However, the beast responsible had disappeared into the crowd of people within the cage. Whether beast or girl, Maisha doubted it would be easy to hunt her down with so many people in the way. She might an issue in the future, but Maisha didn't have the means to take care of her now without catching anyone else with his literal field of fire. The Mandalorian put out of his mind the thought as he scanned the room. He wasn't looking for anyone in particular, just trying to get a lay of the land. The Galaxy was a big place and he got to see a lot of it in his occupation, but these people were beyond strange to him. Plenty of them were human or near human, but their clothes, weapons, and armor didn't resemble anything he'd seen before. It was dizzying to look at and process. One particular figure stood out and alarmed even Maisha. If the hideously burned pale face lacking eyelids wasn't enough to scare everyone else away the knife embedded into their skull without any seeming ill effect certainly did. No one was helping the kid, and it was quite understandable. Maisha would be put off by a man who survived being stabbed in the important part of their body. However, not knowing the circumstances, he abided by his own personal code as an Arbintz. Approaching this strange man, Maisha procured a bacta patch from his belt with one hand and kept his other hand ready to defend himself at a moment's notice. This was true for most people he met, but especially for such an off putting character. "You okay with that kal in your head? I have a bacta patch. I highly recommend that you take it for your wound." --- Location: Some Glass Cage Physical Condition: Mild Concussion Mental Condition: Cautious, Offput Mentions/Interactions: (Head Knife Boy need help?)</s> <\|message\|>Noriaki Kakyoin --- Yoshikage Kira As Lucifer went on, Yoshikage Kira listened attentively, although his body language did not betray it. He gazed over at the One-Winged Angel and his gaggle of fools with a resigned, almost whimsical expression, eyelids hanging half-closed to demonstrate his disinterest. If the Devil himself claimed to fear the white-haired man, then Kira was of no mind to disagree, but his was a set of skills tailored to work in tandem with the attribute that he had built all his life on. If the whims of fate willed it and the two parties came to blows, Yoshikage Kira could very well die in the fray, of course. But he had in his possession a power unlike any that the One-Winged Angel or the Devil himself did, from the look of things. More than any companion, Kira could always turn to his fortune. If necessary, that was all he needed to rely on, for better or for worse. A quiet smile crept onto his face for but the blink of an eye. No matter the odds, luck would always side with Yoshikage Kira. "Of course," Kira began, accompanying the words with a resigned shrug. "Their battles are theirs alone, I would say. Just as your battles are yours to fight, and mine in turn. Although..." Kira swept his eyes along the One-Winged Angel's blade, mildly surprised at his capacity to keep it upright despite its frankly gratuitous size. "If I were to fight, I doubt I would lose to anyone." As the conversation flowed further, Kira flowed with it, listening quietly and doing his best to keep the racket of the mewling reprobates on the other side of the cage out of his ears. No walk in the park, of course, but the measure of a man was the trail of adversity he left behind him, and Yoshikage Kira's trail was certainly long enough by its lonesome. He had overcome every obstacle set before him, and did not intend to stop on the account of another, no matter how grand he thought himself. "Of course not," Kira agreed. "Although, I'm afraid I'm not a believer. I suppose I should change my ways, now that I've been offered proof?" Then, Kira hesitated, for just a moment. "No, I believe it's too late for my soul to be saved now. It's no matter - I never held the Lord in high esteem to begin with." Almost on instinct, Kira's fists tightened, one balling tightly in his blazer pocket. "If there is one thing Yoshikage Kira is not, it is useless. I'll play along with our little game, for the moment. If nothing else, it stands to be entertaining. All of these fools in one place, who knows the destruction they could cause with nary an eyelid batted? Surely, our cause must be important if it's worth taking such a gratuitous risk..."</s>	<\|message\|>Lucifer Morningstar Words from the other had made Lucifer look over at him, an amused look of his face. A short chuckle and a shake of his head, the devil didn't seem phased at all. More amused than anything. The man seemed to have an ego, easily twisting words. Though now Lucifer new a little more about his new buddy. "Why take the risk at all if you don't have some fall back? I've dealt with too many humans, if this man doesn't have some way to keep us on the proverbial leash then I'd be throughly shocked." Lucifer seemed to brush any possible threats aside, remaining calm. He had no reason to fear Kira so far, as far as he was aware he was just cocky. He had bigger things to worry about, fighting his fellow cagemates wasn't one of them. It was boring to have threats thrown at him, but he doesn't want to test the waters just yet. He stepped away from Kira a bit, looking around again but keeping an eye on the action. "If you're so confident, maybe we should both play the peace keeper. The more hands working together the better, and after all we all want to go home. Less death the better- for now. I know I might either way, but if you're as strong as you claim I could use the help. Admittedly I don't have many powers that aren't good for non-humans. And as I've discovered- other angels from other places are much stronger than I am, so 9 times out of 10 I'll lose to another me. Absolutely dreadful if you ask me, partly why I hate the damn muktiverse. There's always a bigger fish in the sea!" Turning back around and facing Kira, Lucifer looked him down once more. He looked rather frustrated, but his posture was still rather lax and calm. No huge worry clearly showing anywhere other than his face and the slight stress to his lean. Neither of them liked the situation or wanted to be here, they could work better together. Even if Lucifer takes a supportive role four hands are better than two, plus he has wings and an immunity to fire. Luci could be very helpful even if he doesn't have a ton of powers. "So, what do you say? It's easier to take others down if you have a buddy! I'm not completely useless you know, even if we can both hold our own it's easier with a small team I've learned."</s>
<\|description\|>Sarah Miller "Here. You kept complaining about your broken watch, so I figured, you know. Do you like it?" Age 12 Gender Female Canon The Last Of Us Main Thread or Sandbox Main Thread Personality Sarah shares Joel's sense of humor as she trades jabs with her father during the prologue without missing a beat. She cares about him, as she somehow manages to scrounge up enough money to buy him an implied expensive birthday present. Like Ellie, Sarah is mature for her age as she is calm and collected when she claims she's 'fine' to Tommy, mere minutes after Joel shot their infected neighbor. She seems to possess above-average intelligence for her age given there is an Honor Roll certificate and an additional academic award hanging above the computer in her room. Sarah is also caring and selfless as she was worried over Tommy's safety instead of her own and said that they should have stopped to help the family they passed in the road. Another possibility is that she was in shock because of the whole ordeal, and was able to compartmentalize it. Motivation From her point in time, all she cares for is living. Equipment N/A Attributes N/A Biography Little is known about Sarah or her past prior to the outbreak except that she lived a regular, everyday life in the Austin, Texas area with her father Joel. She was on a youth soccer team at one point and won an individual award in a game/tournament, as evidenced by several pictures in their house and the picture Ellie stole for Joel. She also enjoyed hiking with her father and skateboarding, as shown by a skateboard leaning against the wall in her room at the start of the game. It is unknown what happened to her mother, besides that they and Joel were once married "for a while". Sarah is first seen waking up on a sofa to find Joel talking on the phone to her uncle Tommy. Afterwards, Joel sits down on the couch and Sarah gives him a birthday present, a new wristwatch where she jokes that she bought it with the money she got from selling "hardcore drugs". After watching some TV with her father, she eventually falls asleep again and Joel carries her back to her room and puts her to bed. Later, she is awakened in the middle of the night by an urgent phone call from Tommy who instructs her to get her dad. The line goes dead, prompting her to search for Joel, passing the birthday card she made for Joel and she checks his room, seeing a news report about a gas leak that cuts dead as an explosion in the distance startles Sarah before she proceeds downstairs, seeing several police cars rush past her house. She finds her father's cellphone with eight missed calls and a text from Tommy saying "where the hell are you? CALL ME!", along with "On my way". She enters her father's study, just as Joel runs in through the open sliding door to the backyard; he is covered in blood and extremely nervous. Joel retrieves his revolver from his desk and says that their neighbor Jimmy Cooper is "sick". The man in question appears, running towards the sliding door, smashing his way through the glass and into the room, causing Sarah to jump back in fright; Joel instinctively puts himself between her and Jimmy. The man charges at the pair, forcing Joel to shoot him and Sarah is in disbelief at what had occurred, but is quickly calmed by her father. Suddenly, Tommy pulls into their driveway and they jump into his car where they begin driving out of town to get to safety, but some routes are blocked and others clogged with traffic. With no alternative, Tommy diverts into town, narrowly avoiding an Infected patient trying to enter the vehicle. In the mayhem, a car crashes into them, injuring Sarah's leg and impairing her movement. With the car now totaled, Joel carries her whilst Tommy protects them, looking for a safe place. They enter a bar with some Infected hot on their heels. Tommy instructs them to get to the highway and he'll hold the infected back and catch up with them. They flee, closely followed by other infected. As they approach the highway, with Infected closing in on them, a soldier saves them by shooting the Infected. The soldier radios for orders on what to do with Joel and Sarah, only to be instructed to eliminate them despite Sarah's presence. Although Joel tries to reason with him, the soldier reluctantly opens fire and Joel dives for cover, barely shielding Sarah; the girl cries out in pain as they fall down. The soldier walks up to Joel and prepares to kill him, but he falls to the ground before he can do so, shot by Tommy. The relief is short lived as Sarah begins crying; Joel sees that Sarah was shot in the abdomen, and pleads with her to hang on. She clasps her father, Joel trying to stem the bleeding to no avail and she dies in his arms. Other She is only here because Joel is going to be here. You're fucking welcome, Storeguy.</s> <\|message\|>Shantae Lilith and Shantae Lex answered both of Lilith and Shantae's questions. Starting with Lilith, he said that a incorporeal being with the power of possession could surely become useful at some point or another, not to mention her other more powerful abilities. "Um...I guess that could help." She said showing a slight bit of uncertainty, Lilith actually was able to pull of some pretty impressive stuff, the only reason she really asked that was because she had somewhat of a inferiority complex and she probably still wasn't sure if she was comfortable with helping Lex out with his whole bounty problem, but hey, every little bit helps right? Next Lex answered Shantae's question by keeping it brief and saying that they did some research and leaving it at that, that answer worried her, an answer that vague must mean that they must've done something really outlandish or immoral to do so and anyone that secretive must be doing so. They might of been spying on these people and their every move and that kind of creeped her out, so now that she was given that explanation she just responded and tried not to think about it anymore, as doing so would likely drive anyone crazy. "Uh...okay then." She wasn't sure if she wanted to trust Lex after she heard this. But spying on people was just the beginning of Lex's questionable actions, actually this one was more the questionable. After having to put up with some petty arguing he became feat up with it and move his hand under the desk he was sitting in, likely to press some sort of button that was hidden there, and suddenly Sarah was surrounded in a mass of black smoke before disappearing completely. "Jesus Christ!" Lilith shouted out in shock, meanwhile Shantae let out a freighted yelp, now she trusted him even less. Neither of them didn't even know what to say at first but soon enough Lilith finally said something. "What...What the hell did you do to her!?" She believed that the whole 'she is safer now' excuse was good enough. (Open for interaction)</s> <\|message\|>Grey Grey Grey's been taking this all in. So this Mister Luthor guy wants them here to stop some tyrannical overlord with powers from terrorizing the city? Sounds familiar, the dumbfounded fox thinks to himself. But apart from the name and the footage, the group, Grey included, don't seem like they have any clue about what this Superman is capable of. So when Luthor asks for any other questions, the fox is quick to speak. "Sir?" he starts and steps forward. "I've got a question. What else do we need to know about this... 'Superman' guy?" He would be lying if Grey said he didn't get some bad vibes from the billionaire, but this alien seems to be the bigger fish to fry right now. He'd have to ask more about why Luthor was keeping them under such scrutiny later- when they weren't being threatened with brain-frying frequencies and guns.</s> <\|message\|>Age --- To Maisha's horror, the kid just…yanked the knife out of his head like he was pulling it out of a sheath. The kid didn't even flinch as he wiggled around before finally releasing the blade from his dome piece. He must have been some kind of monster. Underneath his helmet, Maisha gritted his teeth and cringed. If he were the one doing it for an injured brother in a life or death situation, it would be no problem, but seeing it be treated with such triviality was something else. Thankfully for the pale kid, the bacta patch would almost instantly clot the bleeding and begin healing the cut as if it were magic. Within the hour, the bacta would've completely healed the wound and left no scar behind.. That clear slime was a beautiful thing, healing wounds as if it were as easy as inflicting it...and bacta this pure and effective wasn't cheap either. Especially since the Empire's fall, getting high-quality bacta was almost impossible and a single tank cost as much as a small ship. With all that said, the point is: the kid better be grateful. However, the boy's response did take Maisha off guard. Not the part about his age. Maisha was only 13 cycles old when he killed his first man and even younger when he first hunted the vermin that plagued his family's hanger. No, it was how casually the boy implied that he was going to kill everyone. As a bounty hunter, Maisha had met his share of eccentric, violent, and big-talking characters who would say the exact same thing and wouldn't cause him to bat an eye. What unnerved Maisha was how all the little details were coming together, between the appearance, the durability, and the violent comment the kid made. Individually, he wouldn't care, but the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. "You can definitely try, ad'ike, but I doubt you'd get through more than two of these hardened verde," Maisha chuckled, but it was more cover up his concern than anything else. He wasn't worried so much about himself as he was about everyone around him who didn't have the means to defend themselves against an unseen knife. Before those concerns could be seen any further, the woman from before returned with a change of clothes and the go ahead to see Mr. Luthor. Maisha had almost forgotten about the man what had brought them here with all the commotion! The Mandalorian entered the lift with no complaints with all the others, just as eager as most to find out what the was going on. At the top floor, the group was greeted with an opulent office fit for the well-dressed businessman sitting at the center desk. Maisha knew the type well, having dealt with those who held some self-importance just because they had plenty of credits to throw around. Lex Luthor immediately got to business, revealing that he collected everyone there for a "situation." The euphemism made Maisha cross his arms, knowing that it indicated a complex problem that would pay appropriately if this man had the slightest sense of fairness. A small smile crept into Maisha's face as the man named Spike Spiegel asked if this was a bounty. Of course it was, but the pay...they weren't in much of a position to negotiate if Luther was able to put them all in that cage without any hitches. Maisha certainly wanted a enough credits to buy a few new blasters and the knowledge of where his ship was, but freedom was also nice. Then the bald man dropped something about a "multiverse" and multiple universes. That threw Maisha's head into dizzy. Did he end up in Wild Space or get stuck in Hyperspace to end up here? Well...that would have to come another time, as he shifted his focus onto a hologram of a "Superman" and gave a brief on their target. Seeing their target, even just a hologram...Maisha was became very, very concerned. This man could shoot lasers from his eyes, fly, and destroying buildings and chest cavities with his bare hands. Maisha had hunted his fair share of tough targets, but this...this was absurd! It was like asking them to take on a Gozanti-class cruiser with size of a man and the agility of an A-Wing with nothing but a few blasters! Bewildered by this request, Maisha didn't immediately react to the man rushing Luthor and beat the living hell out of that dome piece, but thankfully, someone man in a red and blue suit yanked him away with a fiber cord before he killed everyone's best shot at getting home. However, just as it seemed to be over, Luthor pressed a button that made some girl disappear into a cloud of smoke, sending the girl's presumed father into a renewed frenzy. Though he didn't know all the details, Maisha felt for this man, having lost his mother to the Empire. Family was important to many, and none moreso than a Mandalorian. He was feeling generous today, so he approached this man and knelt down beside him. He had a knife in hand ready to cut the man free from his restraints if he calmed down. "Greetings burc'ya, please calm down. Your fighting won't do your child any favors. Right now, you've been dealt a questionable hand, and if you jump on the draw too soon, you'll bomb out. I understand your devotion, though. I am no father, but as Mando'ad I know unrelenting devotion to my family. If you wish to have my assistance, I will do everything I can to reunite the two of you for no other reason than to see a family restored, ori'haat (I swear it to be true)." --- Location: Lex Luthor's Office Physical Condition: Fine Mental Condition: Very Concerned, Sympathetic Mentions/Interactions:@Chung (Head Knife Boy kinda sussy) @Paper94(Fellow Bounty Hunter) @SomeMekBoy (Spidey shooting his web all over Joel) @Thatguyinastore (Sad Dad need help?) @cadesmith (Gone girl)</s>	<\|message\|>Sarah Miller ???They're healthy, however they're also very confused! --- As the smoke surrounding Sarah had cleared, someone completely different had been in the girl's place. It was none other than... "I, the GREAT ninj- wha!" The horribly dressed ninja looked around, a baffled expression donned upon her. One moment, she was fighting off crime, or, she was about to! Next thing she knows, she's just in a room with a LOT of different people! The restoration committee member didn't waste much time on examining each and every person there - as there had, again, been a lot of people. Instead, she looked to the one who she somewhat recognized - Lex Luthor was his name, wasn't it? The girl had heard that name and face thrown around here and there back in Gotham, well, for the one month she had been stranded in the city. Had some magic mumbo-jumbo led her to him and this diverse crowd? She took a few steps closer to his desk, humming to herself as she looked him up and down, before she held out a hand to shake his. Safe to say, she was totally unaware of what happened before she came around. "I think I know you, sir Luthor! Need an introduction or do you already know of my great deeds?" </s>
<\|description\|>Samus Aran Age: Mid-30s Gender: Female Canon: Metroid Post-Fusion/Pre-Dread Stats: Height: 6'3" (1.91 meters) Weight: 198 lbs (90kg) Personality: A serious, no-nonsense bounty hunter, Samus Aran has been hardened by her countless missions she endured over the years. She has shown unparalleled willpower and resourcefulness, succeeding where thousands failed and stopping at nothing to save the galaxy from any threat that may arise - even willing to sacrifice herself on multiple occasions for the greater good. While she is a warrior loner with few words, Samus' prefers to rather speak with her actions. Even so, within her cold armor exoskeleton, she is also known for her compassion, and has consistently stood up to secure the helpless and downtrodden. Equipment: * Varia Suit: After her original Chozo-made armor was fused into her by the "X-Parasites" - with the organic pieces of her suit fusing into her body - Samus was given a new power suit to complement her radical altercations. It faithfully recreated her original Varia suit - arm cannon and all - sporting orange and gold highlights on top of a sleek new white finish. The new power suit allows her to be faster and more agile compared to her old suit, while still durable enough to take a beating, as well as capable in withstanding superheated temperatures. However it does not protect her from superheated liquids, like magma, as well as extreme cold. Attributes: * Metroid DNA: Thanks to the metroid vaccine that initially rid her of the "X-Parasites", Samus' DNA has been altered to gain the Metroid's immunity to the X-Parasites, while consequently gaining their weaknesses to intense sub-zero cold. * Morph Ball: Samus' suit allows her to morph into a ball, allowing her to crawl into extremely tight spaces. It can also drop bombs in this form. * Charge Beam: Allows Samus to charge up her arm cannon to unleash a more powerful blast for more damage. * Grapple Beam: Allows Samus to unleash a physical beam of energy that allows her to latch onto surfaces and hang for a significant amount of time. * Homing Missiles: Allows Samus to fire missiles one at a time at enemies. These missiles can track opponents' heat/energy signatures. * Screw Attack: Allows Samus to cause damage to opponents by spinning into them in the air. * Speed Boost/Shinespark: Allows Samus to run at enhanced speeds; which given enough momentum can allow her to crash into breakable walls at lightning speed. Harnessing enough concentrated speed allows her to initiate the "shinespark" technique in a several second window - propelling herself in the said direction with a huge burst of power for a considerable distance. This is a heavily costly ability, that may cause self-damage if Samus doesn't properly stop in time. Biography: This incarnation of Samus Aran represents her between the events of "Metroid: Fusion" and "Metroid: Dread". Themes</s> <\|message\|>SPAMTON G. SPAMTON SPAMTON G. SPAMTON Spamton laid a Pipis on Lex Luthor's desk the moment the explosion went off next door. He was too young and beautiful to get a hole punched through him by some caped maniac no matter what baldy said. That said he had to be carried out by staff as he struggled to climb over them back into the safety of Lex lair. Once outside he froze as he watched a giant dragon fly into the affirmation building. "WHAT THE [!$$!] IS THAT!" He stood in awe practically laying another Pipis. He needed to find somewhere to hide and wait this whole ordeal out. Perhaps this world had better garbage cans to offer. Thus he scampered off in search of one. Which unfortunately drew him closer to the building, but he saw the outline of a dumpster in an alley near it and dashed for it, standing proudly before a fire exit door. "HA! SPAMTON G. SPAMTON LIVES ANOTHER DAY!" He said before seeing a humanoid figure booking it towards him. He couldn't react in time as a metal door was slammed in his metal face leaving a Spamton patented dent and hole. "YOWCH! I THINK MY NOSE IS BROK3N!" The puppet felt his face and surely enough his nose was bent upwards. He'd track down the nose breaking bandit later but for now he needed to find medical help. After some searching he did come to find the medical area, it seemed as though a lot were going down between the gunfire and yelling. Not very medic-like the salesman would say. But he walked into the area looking at his good ol' buddy ol' pal Hershel. "HEY SPECIL NON-CUSTOMER YOU WOULDN'T HAPPEN TO BE ABLE TO HAVE ANYTHING THAT COULD FIX THIS WOULD YOU?!" He gestured to his bent nose. Jones @Yamperzzz @RirisStride1 @ProfSpacecakes @Attesa @Thatguyinastore</s> <\|message\|>Douglas Jay Falcon Captain Falcon opens his eyes only to look around to see everyone has gone "Oh shoot, everyone's gone.... Uuuuhh, I should probably get going before I start getting lost again. Getting lost is NOT fun." The pilot shakes Luthor's hand once again "Again, pleasure to meet you! You're the best at what you do" Captain Falcon remarks in a gruff voice "And whatever have you! Stay bald! Stay beautiful! See you later!" Captain Falcon pats Lex on the shoulder and wastes no time trying to retrace everyone elses steps, which lead him through a door "Hey guys, I apologize, I kinda zoned out for a second...Or two...Okay several but I'm here now! Sooo, what're we do-?" Captain Falcon is taken aback as he now finds himself in a completely different world space. He was in some sort of dystopian Victorian setting complete adorned with clocks and bleack, sickly skies over head "Welp! I'm must've gotten high somehow. Don't know how, but it's happened. And it's about as unnerving as I thought it would be...Oh!" Hits himself upside his helmet "Duh! I OBVIOUSLY went through the wrong door! No one sane would just continue through the wrong door! I am certainly sane! So, Imma leave and find everyone el-" Suddenly, anthropomorphic rabbits spring up from thin air and begin to attack the pilot "Oh my gosh! HAAAAAAAAA! I'M BEING ATTACKED! BY RABBIT PEOPLE! WHY RABBIT PEOPLE OF ALL THINGS?! WHAT IS GOING OOOOOOONNNN! AND WHY ARE YOU ATTACKING ME?! I WAS JUST ABOUT TO LEAAAAAAAVVVEEE! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLP! Wait...." Captain Falcon stands up as the rabbits continue to attack him, but now the pilot doesn't even seem to be bothered by them "What am I don't, letting these random rabbit mutants get the jump on me? I have fought a retarded Italian plumber, a gorilla that looks like Jimmy Neutron, a mute twink, an a elector-rat, a dinosaur with the world's biggest nose--" One of the rabbit people sock the pilot across the face "Hey, I'm trying to monologue here! Chill out!...Point is: Imma bounty hunter! I hunt people, dang it! And non-people too! And you." Captain Falcon catches two of the rabbit's fists "Are non-people.." The pilot casually tightens his grip on their fist, crushing them instantly. He then kicks the rabbit in front of him in the groin, a nasty squishing sound ensuing as a result as the rabbit falls over motionless. The pilot then kicks behind him, breaking the other rabbit's leg by the knee. With all the rabbits surrounding him incapacitated, Captain Falcon begins to take them all by the ear, tying them together and begins to spin himself and the rabbits around by the ear, continuing to pick up speed "So long, gay wabbits!" Captain Falcon responds in the best Italian accent he can muster as he lets go of the ears, letting the rabbits fly off into the sky. "And that takes care of that!" The pilot wipes his hands with a triumphant smile "Now what was I doing? Oh yea, I was leaving! Forget this place, I don't have time to be jumped by rabbit people...Who do I look like, Rayman?" Captain Falcon turns and prepares to leave from whence he came, only to find the door missing "Ofcouse. Ofcourse! OFCOURSE! Ofcourse it would be gone! Why wouldn't it be?! Just...! FFFFFFFFFFFFFF-Forward I go, I guess!" Captain Falcon grumbles angrily as he makes the journey to this madness inducing world he found himself in @TheElenaFisher@davefromdiscord@Second2Last@Kagebaka@Paper94[@anyone else on the first floor]</s>	<\|message\|>Samus Aran A sharp inhale caused Samus Aran to suddenly snap back to consciousness. One moment the bounty hunter was flying towards her mission objective - a space station orbiting a massive gas giant - to apprehend a space pirate remanent under the Galactic Federation's orders. Then she unexpectedly lost consciousness and blacked out momentarily, only to shortly awaken to find her ship spiraling out of control while plummeting towards a metropolitan skyline below! The bewildered bounty hunter had numerous questions coursing through her head at breakneck speed, desperately trying to make sense of the situation. Yet now was not the time to dwell on the matter when her life was once again on the line! Quickly Samus sat up and began scrolling around with the holographic gyrosphere with one hand, while her other pulled back on the throttle to force the ship's landing thrusters upwards to control her descent as much as she could. Her purple gunship wailed as smoke could be seen trailing from its left wing from bystanders on the ground. It was clear things weren't looking too good. And worse still, the landing thrusters refused to activate! Samus tried several times to activate them but to no avail. This was going to be a rough landing; and all she could do now was brace for impact. The ship was able to swerve past the tallest skyscrapers but her current trajectory wouldn't spare its damaged wing from scraping off one of them. Samus was jolted forward by the collision, as her ship span rapidly before crashing onto the street below. Sparks flew against the sickening screech of metal before the gunship slowly came to a grinding halt. --- With an audible groan, Samus rose her head before slowly getting to her feet. She hadn't experienced a crash-landing like this in awhile, although knowing her luck it was bound to happen again eventually. Trouble always seemed to have found her at the least opportune moments. Instinctually, she issued a quick scan of her armor to make sure everything was in place. And indeed her visor would report back negative. She was still in her Varia Suit with all the current upgrades she equipped prior to the mission. With her ship now compromised, the bounty hunter would have to search around for supplies - if not another way off this planet. At the very least Samus wouldn't have to search for any of her lost equipment. Yet she had a feeling that wherever she found herself in was far larger than she knew. She opened the emergency hatch on the ship's roof and proceeded climbed out, where she would first step foot upon this world. Taking in the sights of the metropolitan environment, she quickly realized that this planet felt familiar to her... Was this Earth? Samus hadn't stepped foot on the Galactic Federation's home world since her days in the academy; training alongside those born in the cradle of the human race. That was many years ago. But the more she observed her surroundings, the more alienated she felt all the same. It was a weird feeling; as if the Earth she stood on wasn't the Earth she knew. The buildings here were more primitive then she remembered; and she could hear sounds of unfamiliar origin echoing in the distance. Was Earth being invaded? Surely the Federation would've been the first to alert her if this was the case. But as far as she knew, Earth was protected by a massive defense fleet - ready to take down any alien invaders that dare attempt to wipe humanity off the intergalactic map. She needed answers. Leaving her ship behind, Samus made her way down the street to wherever fate would lead her...</s>
<\|description\|>Bruce Bailey Bruce Bailey, Blue Ranger Age: 17 DOB: May 28th, 2007 POB: Summit Point, West Virginia, United States Height: 6'7" Weight: 220 lbs Eyes: Blue Special Talents & Skills Capable mechanic Skilled welder Novice tinkerer Marksmanship(rifle, specifically) High tolerance for pain Scanned Lifeforms Blue Dragon Peregrine Falcon Rhino Powers & Abilities Blue Dragonfire Aura, feels cold to the touch as it absorbs ambient heat to store as power. High Speed Flight. The fastest of the rangers, however he requires time and distance to get up to speed. Thermal manipulation. Can move thermal energy around, though is not able to increase the amount of heat present. He can absorb heat as energy to power his flight. Weapons & Gear Blue Dragon Nanosuit (about the size of a belt buckle when compressed, rapidly spreads out and covers the entire body when activated) Blue Dragon Spear Peregrine Wings Dragon Zord Booster Mech (mechanical exosuit that further enhances power output) Biography Despite his father's best efforts, Bruce was born in the same town his parents were raised in. A small town in Appalachia without much going for it. His mother, Charlene, worked herself to the bone to put his father, Henry through college, and Henry was away at school when Bruce was born. As far as Henry was concerned, all of her efforts paid off, as he graduated with a degree in mechanical engineering, and found himself a decent job. Henry's work ethic was every bit as stringent as Charlene's, and it soon became apparent that his job didn't leave much energy for a wife and child. Charlene had been under the impression, as she slaved away years before, that the end result would be a happy family with good prospects. She got the family with good prospects right, but she was hardly happy, as she found being a stay at home mom stifling. When Henry got a job offer in Los Angeles, working in the design department of a major auto manufacturer, she simply didn't go with him. Bruce was nine at this time. Bruce had to become self sufficient at a young age, as his father barely even seemed to notice that Charlene wasn't still around to take care of their child. He tried taking an interest in his father's work, to try to get attention from him, and spent a lot of time on the internet learning about how cars function. By twelve, he had an impressive knowledge of vehicle maintenance and repair, as well as a love of cars that would last the rest of his life. And it worked, after a fashion. Henry had as little time as ever for his family, but when he was home, he started talking shop, and was happy to find that his son could follow along most of the time. At seventeen, Bruce was an ace student of Angel Grove High's auto shop(and took every other class with "shop" in the name, too), though often a below average student in subjects he was less interested in. His refusal to apply himself, along with his faint Appalachian accent, has led to him being seen by most of his classmates as a dullard. Even the ones in his best classes assume his skill with making and repairing things to be a fluke, or merely a savant-like affinity.</s> <\|message\|>Sa'Cha Harroea Zordon watched from the ship as each of the teenagers managed to find some way to fend off the threat, but what surprised him most was that they were willing to protect each other even though he could see one of them wasn't truly as connected with the others, yet even they managed to help keep the threat at bay. He smiled. Teenagers with a true heart to protect didn't come to his neck of the woods every day. This was indeed a rare treat. His eyes narrowed on Sa'Cha who was displaying a unique ability. It seemed he was already connected to the power source, or was there more to him than just surface? A loud ringing filled the area and the creatures stopped their attack, retreating back into the ship. Sa'Cha gasped holding his injured side, having stumbled during the fight and hitting a sharp rock. Zordon appeared at the entrance of the ship and slowly descended the long strip of stairs. He approached the gathered teens and looked at them closely. "I assure you that was merely a test and you are in no true danger here," he said, his eyes falling on Sa'Cha's injured side. "Here, let me mend that for you." Before Sa'Cha could object, nanites flew from Zordon's body and began to mend the wound. This was advanced technology and Sa'Cha gazed down at his wound as he watched the little pieces of tech make quick work of mending him before returning to their source. Sa'Cha looked between the collective and then focused on Zordon. "What kind of welcome was that? Those things nearly killed us." "No, they were merely testing you to see what kind of response you'd have. Trust me, I would not have allowed them to kill you. Although they are an alien race, they do understand your native tongue. Pardon my manners, let me introduce myself." Zordon looked at each of the teenagers assembled before him. "I am Zordon, and if I am not mistaken, I am looking at the next protectors of this world. The next Power Rangers." Sa'Cha's mind was swirling at the term used. His grandmother would always tell him tales of the protectors of the world and how they defeated evil throughout the years, each eventually retiring or worse. Had they been chosen to follow in the footsteps of so many legendary warriors? "Please, I will answer all questions, but first if you could follow me into the ship, everything will become clear." Zordon turned without a second of hesitation and moved towards the ship, moving up the long trail of stairs and vanishing back into the ship. Sa'Cha turned to the others unsure how to proceed. "Ummm, that was a lot to take in. Everyone alright?"</s> <\|message\|>Heath Underwood After a brief fist fight with the monster left Heath a bit out of breath, and a bit bruised he couldn't help but feel like this was all some sort of elaborate prank, or if things were really this weird? There was no way this was a dream too much pain made that clear, and on top of that the weird guy talking to them like they had been brought here and this wasn't just some weird ass exploration day out to explore some of Angel Grove was just icing on the cake. Even if he had been waiting for them why rough them up? Talking solves some shit you know. For Heath the moment he gave up rationalizing anything came when the nanobots helped him out, and even eased some of his notable pains from previous football related incidents. Fucking A man what the hell was even going on? "Look I'll follow you since anybody looking to actually hurt us wouldn't have healed us up so...i'll trust you. For now. I hope the explanation was worth the little scuffle though." Heath said as he made his way towards the ship initially ignoring the comment by Sa'cha. "Look I'm good and I appreciate the concern. but I don't want to risk keeping the guy with freaking alien body guards waiting. Come on we gotta go." Heath said as he made his way forward towards the ship.</s> <\|message\|>Bruce Bailey On later reflection, Bruce thought it would be nice if he had done something cool, or at least cursed at the monster or something. Instead, his first reaction was a kind of wordless scream of shock and fear, as Helia jumped in front of him. His screaming evolved into a lot of "Got dang," and "Whoa man!" as he picked up rocks from the ground, and began to hurl them over-hand at the guard creatures. He made a point to aim over Helia's shoulder, but he was a good deal taller than her and this wasn't difficult. After the first two rocks, Bruce realized that he was hiding from alien monsters behind his friend, and that there were two possible outcomes. One: they die, and the aliens kill Helia first to get to him. Two: they live, and he has to relive his cowardice when they discuss the event later. Both situations were just the pits, so Bruce, with a renewal of his wordless scream, threw one last rock at one of the aliens, and bolted to the side, scooping up a particularly large stone on his way. As he ran, he saw that the creature was following him, as he had hoped/feared, and with a mighty(sort of) yell, he charged it, and brought the stone down on it. He aimed for the head, but it managed to dodge around and take the blow on the shoulder. It was then that the chime sounded, and the creature, completely ignoring its wound and assailant, turned and left. Bruce very nearly threw the last rock at the being who later identified itself as Zordon, but by then he was confused enough to wait for it(him, he thought) to finish speaking. When it had gone, Bruce finally dropped the rock. "'M alive," he mumbled in response to Sa'Cha. "Dunno when Heath got here, but I reckon he's got a point. And in any case it ain't like we're leaving the cave any direction but this one, right?"</s> <\|message\|>Finley "Finn" Logan "OMG, Heath, you made it!" Finn clapped his hands excitedly at the sight of one of his friends on the football team. And then some creepy alien things marched off the ship, and started lunging towards the group, and soon a fight broke out. Finn looked to the left, and looked to the right. He was only a novice fighter, but he was a cheerleader! So, he let out a high pitched scream, ran towards one of the aliens, did a handspring, and managed to kick one of the aliens in the face. "Yay! I did it! Finn clapped his hands excitedly. But while Finn was celebrating, and alien unfurled it's claws, and slashed Finn on his side causing a bloody gash on Finn's side. "Ow! That hurt!" He managed to land a punch on that alien's face, but he was now clutching his side and wincing painfully. Then, the aliens suddenly stopped their assault, and what appeared to be a bald headed man stepped off the ship. He explained that this was all a test, and then sent out a bunch of nanites to fix whatever wounds they sustained during the fight, including Finn's own wound. "Neat! Finn exclaimed. Although Finn really wanted to know what they were being tested for. He then invited the group on to the ship where he would explain everything. This was becoming more and more like the cartoons Finn watched by the second, and Finn was actually excited about it. "Yeah, I'm fine now. But that alien scratchy thing hurt at the time… Anyway, OMG guys! We're gonna become superheroes. Let's gooooooooooooooo!" Finn happily started skipping up the stairs leading onto the ship as if this was a perfectly normal thing to happen.</s> <\|message\|>Sa'Cha Harroea ACCEPT THE POWER, ACCEPT THE RESPONSIBILITY! --- --- Sa'Cha listened as everyone responded to how they were feeling. It was safe to say that today couldn't get any more crazy. They'd just found a ship, been attacked by aliens, and now they were being invited into the ship by some being who healed them of their wounds using some sort of advanced technology. It wasn't strange to Sa'Cha as he hailed from a world of magic and beyond, but he was sure the others were on high alert after what had just happened and knew that he was in hot water once all of this was over. He sighed as they all seemed to move in unison towards the ship. He kept thinking about Tommy and what he would have done in this situation. He probably would have tried to help them all and protect them, but he was surprised how everyone held their own against the threat. "I need to contact my grandma," Sa'Cha thought out loud as he was the last to enter the ship. There wasn't time. As soon as they entered, the stairs began to pull into the ship and the door soon closed as they moved further into the bowels of the ship. Zordon led them to a large open area with six cylindrical vessels that housed what looked to be a rather interesting power suit. Each had a beautiful insignia on it representing the dragon that corresponded with the color. Zordon smiled as he turned to face them. "This is the command center. What if I told you that the world as you see it is not the truth? What if I told you that beyond the veil is a completely different world, a world full of danger, and what if I told you that you are the next in line to protect the world from threats both near and far. Through the years there have been different protectors, sworn to uphold justice and do what is necessary for the good of the universe, and I do believe it has finally time to choose again." Zordon looked at each of them and nodded his head. "I am sure each of you has many questions, so please, one at a time. Whoever would like to go first, please step forward."</s>	<\|message\|>Bruce Bailey Bruce climbed the steps and almost fell behind Sa'Cha as he watched the ramp rise and the hatch close. He thought vaguely that he should be concerned about that, but was too busy wondering what sort of mechanism did the work, as he couldn't see any pistons or motors(at least not the sort he recognized). "I need to contact my grandma," Sa'Cha didn't seem to be speaking to anyone in particular. "To get her permission to climb up in a alien ship?" Bruce asked, incredulous. Zordon basically told them that they were going to be super heroes, and kindly gave an opportunity to ask him questions. Presumably about their schedule, pay and benefits for the job he was offering. "How does your ship work?"</s>
<\|description\|>Sa'Cha Harroea "Embrace the song of the Siren. Fill the world with sound!" Age: 17 Gender: Male Height: 5'7" Weight: 153 lbs Voice: Sa'Cha's voice Theme: The Untamed OST Transformation: - His Mystic Sorcerer transformation occurs when he channels the arcane energies through his body and speaks the incantation. His control over the arcane art increases and he's more potent. He wields the Trident Staff in this transformation. - Although his Sorcerer transformation is great, when it fuses with his Ranger Suit, it looks slightly different from his teammates. There are emblems drawn on the front and back within a silver circle. These emblems are ancient sigils that allow for different powerups when unlocked and accessed. On the hand of the suit are two sigils that allow for greater mana control and protection. The blade is a weapon known as the Banshee's Scream, a deadly blade that absorbs the souls of its victims. This weapon can be combined with the Trident Staff to form a deadly combo. It can detach a smaller blade, as seen in the right hand, to use for more sudden needs. Scanned Lifeforms Black Opal Dragon Pangolin Qilin Zord/Mech: - Standing at an awe-striking 12 feet, the intense magical energy that flows through the mech allows for it to levitate and perform quick maneuvers. It can teleport and has immense psychic strength. Much more agile than other mechs due to its slender nature, though it lacks physical strength. Weapon: Mystical Trident Staff - Silent Form This beautifully crafted staff is forged from the souls of past Banshee Queens and the tears of the current Banshee Queen and was a gift to Udonna who passed it down to Sa'Cha. The staff is sentient and ensures Sa'Cha's safety at all costs. It helps him channel the arcane energies of the universe. One-touch of the blade can cut, and a cut from this weapon can cause hallucinations so strong they can cause someone to go mad. This has no effect on Sa'Cha. The weapon is resistant to fire and can only be broken by throwing it into the heart of a volcano. The crystal embedded in the blade is said to harbor the essence of its victims. When not in use the weapon is stored in a trident charm on a bracelet Sa'Cha wears. Mystic Trident Staff - Sacred Form --- --- Personality: Sa'Cha is kind when it comes to his friends and family. He can have a bit of a temper sometimes. He is cursed with the inability to hide his feelings. This sometimes gets him into a bit of trouble. He is strong-willed and determined. He is faithful and observant. He has been called playful and a perfectionist. When duty calls Sa'Cha ensures he is focused on the task at hand. He is calculating and strikes to bring fear to the hearts of his enemies. He protects, it's in his blood. He can be shy around someone he likes on a romantic level at first but as things progress he opens up more. Skills: Aside from his amazing cooking skills, his grandmother saw fit to have him train in martial arts to help with her secret cause. Over the years he has fine-tuned his reflexes, agility, and strength. He's an amazing gardener, and deadly with polearm weapons. Sa'Cha can speak Korean, English, and a little Spanish. Abilities: By tapping into the arcane energies of the world, Sa'Cha can transform into the Mystic Sorcerer. By speaking the words "Embrace the song of the Siren. Fill the world with sound" he is able to channel the power to allow his mana to fill. Though he is able to use magic before transforming, once he transforms, his magic is more potent. He excels in his arcane abilities and Udonna believes that even at his young age, he may surpass her. She has never seen a warrior who is able to tap into the arcana so fluidly and easily. History: Sa'Cha was left in the care of his great grandmother when his parents perished. The entire estate and all the wealth falls to him when he turns 21, but his great grandmother ensures he has access to whatever he needs. Regarding his parent's death, Sa'Cha was told at a young age that his parents didn't suffer and that the cause of their deaths was natural, but he has always been curious. Nonetheless, he followed the path his grandmother placed before him. She always gave him free will to do what he wanted, but he was all she had, and he had to make sure she was taken care of. At the age of 14, Sa'Cha came out to his grandmother that he was bisexual. His grandmother is his entire world. She'd taught him about the world of magic. She taught him how to brew potions strong enough to break the strongest of minds and subdue the bravest of souls. She'd taught him about the beauty in nature and how to give and take from it. He became a fully realized sorcerer by the age of 15. Recently, his grandmother experienced strong visions and moved them to a place known as Angel Grove. She didn't tell him what the visions were, but that he had a mission. He was to enroll in Angel Grove High, blend in and report anything out of the ordinary to her. As a Senior, he hopes to make his grandmother proud.</s> <\|message\|>Sa'Cha Harroea Zordon watched from the ship as each of the teenagers managed to find some way to fend off the threat, but what surprised him most was that they were willing to protect each other even though he could see one of them wasn't truly as connected with the others, yet even they managed to help keep the threat at bay. He smiled. Teenagers with a true heart to protect didn't come to his neck of the woods every day. This was indeed a rare treat. His eyes narrowed on Sa'Cha who was displaying a unique ability. It seemed he was already connected to the power source, or was there more to him than just surface? A loud ringing filled the area and the creatures stopped their attack, retreating back into the ship. Sa'Cha gasped holding his injured side, having stumbled during the fight and hitting a sharp rock. Zordon appeared at the entrance of the ship and slowly descended the long strip of stairs. He approached the gathered teens and looked at them closely. "I assure you that was merely a test and you are in no true danger here," he said, his eyes falling on Sa'Cha's injured side. "Here, let me mend that for you." Before Sa'Cha could object, nanites flew from Zordon's body and began to mend the wound. This was advanced technology and Sa'Cha gazed down at his wound as he watched the little pieces of tech make quick work of mending him before returning to their source. Sa'Cha looked between the collective and then focused on Zordon. "What kind of welcome was that? Those things nearly killed us." "No, they were merely testing you to see what kind of response you'd have. Trust me, I would not have allowed them to kill you. Although they are an alien race, they do understand your native tongue. Pardon my manners, let me introduce myself." Zordon looked at each of the teenagers assembled before him. "I am Zordon, and if I am not mistaken, I am looking at the next protectors of this world. The next Power Rangers." Sa'Cha's mind was swirling at the term used. His grandmother would always tell him tales of the protectors of the world and how they defeated evil throughout the years, each eventually retiring or worse. Had they been chosen to follow in the footsteps of so many legendary warriors? "Please, I will answer all questions, but first if you could follow me into the ship, everything will become clear." Zordon turned without a second of hesitation and moved towards the ship, moving up the long trail of stairs and vanishing back into the ship. Sa'Cha turned to the others unsure how to proceed. "Ummm, that was a lot to take in. Everyone alright?"</s> <\|message\|>Heath Underwood After a brief fist fight with the monster left Heath a bit out of breath, and a bit bruised he couldn't help but feel like this was all some sort of elaborate prank, or if things were really this weird? There was no way this was a dream too much pain made that clear, and on top of that the weird guy talking to them like they had been brought here and this wasn't just some weird ass exploration day out to explore some of Angel Grove was just icing on the cake. Even if he had been waiting for them why rough them up? Talking solves some shit you know. For Heath the moment he gave up rationalizing anything came when the nanobots helped him out, and even eased some of his notable pains from previous football related incidents. Fucking A man what the hell was even going on? "Look I'll follow you since anybody looking to actually hurt us wouldn't have healed us up so...i'll trust you. For now. I hope the explanation was worth the little scuffle though." Heath said as he made his way towards the ship initially ignoring the comment by Sa'cha. "Look I'm good and I appreciate the concern. but I don't want to risk keeping the guy with freaking alien body guards waiting. Come on we gotta go." Heath said as he made his way forward towards the ship.</s> <\|message\|>Bruce Bailey On later reflection, Bruce thought it would be nice if he had done something cool, or at least cursed at the monster or something. Instead, his first reaction was a kind of wordless scream of shock and fear, as Helia jumped in front of him. His screaming evolved into a lot of "Got dang," and "Whoa man!" as he picked up rocks from the ground, and began to hurl them over-hand at the guard creatures. He made a point to aim over Helia's shoulder, but he was a good deal taller than her and this wasn't difficult. After the first two rocks, Bruce realized that he was hiding from alien monsters behind his friend, and that there were two possible outcomes. One: they die, and the aliens kill Helia first to get to him. Two: they live, and he has to relive his cowardice when they discuss the event later. Both situations were just the pits, so Bruce, with a renewal of his wordless scream, threw one last rock at one of the aliens, and bolted to the side, scooping up a particularly large stone on his way. As he ran, he saw that the creature was following him, as he had hoped/feared, and with a mighty(sort of) yell, he charged it, and brought the stone down on it. He aimed for the head, but it managed to dodge around and take the blow on the shoulder. It was then that the chime sounded, and the creature, completely ignoring its wound and assailant, turned and left. Bruce very nearly threw the last rock at the being who later identified itself as Zordon, but by then he was confused enough to wait for it(him, he thought) to finish speaking. When it had gone, Bruce finally dropped the rock. "'M alive," he mumbled in response to Sa'Cha. "Dunno when Heath got here, but I reckon he's got a point. And in any case it ain't like we're leaving the cave any direction but this one, right?"</s> <\|message\|>Finley "Finn" Logan "OMG, Heath, you made it!" Finn clapped his hands excitedly at the sight of one of his friends on the football team. And then some creepy alien things marched off the ship, and started lunging towards the group, and soon a fight broke out. Finn looked to the left, and looked to the right. He was only a novice fighter, but he was a cheerleader! So, he let out a high pitched scream, ran towards one of the aliens, did a handspring, and managed to kick one of the aliens in the face. "Yay! I did it! Finn clapped his hands excitedly. But while Finn was celebrating, and alien unfurled it's claws, and slashed Finn on his side causing a bloody gash on Finn's side. "Ow! That hurt!" He managed to land a punch on that alien's face, but he was now clutching his side and wincing painfully. Then, the aliens suddenly stopped their assault, and what appeared to be a bald headed man stepped off the ship. He explained that this was all a test, and then sent out a bunch of nanites to fix whatever wounds they sustained during the fight, including Finn's own wound. "Neat! Finn exclaimed. Although Finn really wanted to know what they were being tested for. He then invited the group on to the ship where he would explain everything. This was becoming more and more like the cartoons Finn watched by the second, and Finn was actually excited about it. "Yeah, I'm fine now. But that alien scratchy thing hurt at the time… Anyway, OMG guys! We're gonna become superheroes. Let's gooooooooooooooo!" Finn happily started skipping up the stairs leading onto the ship as if this was a perfectly normal thing to happen.</s>	<\|message\|>Sa'Cha Harroea ACCEPT THE POWER, ACCEPT THE RESPONSIBILITY! --- --- Sa'Cha listened as everyone responded to how they were feeling. It was safe to say that today couldn't get any more crazy. They'd just found a ship, been attacked by aliens, and now they were being invited into the ship by some being who healed them of their wounds using some sort of advanced technology. It wasn't strange to Sa'Cha as he hailed from a world of magic and beyond, but he was sure the others were on high alert after what had just happened and knew that he was in hot water once all of this was over. He sighed as they all seemed to move in unison towards the ship. He kept thinking about Tommy and what he would have done in this situation. He probably would have tried to help them all and protect them, but he was surprised how everyone held their own against the threat. "I need to contact my grandma," Sa'Cha thought out loud as he was the last to enter the ship. There wasn't time. As soon as they entered, the stairs began to pull into the ship and the door soon closed as they moved further into the bowels of the ship. Zordon led them to a large open area with six cylindrical vessels that housed what looked to be a rather interesting power suit. Each had a beautiful insignia on it representing the dragon that corresponded with the color. Zordon smiled as he turned to face them. "This is the command center. What if I told you that the world as you see it is not the truth? What if I told you that beyond the veil is a completely different world, a world full of danger, and what if I told you that you are the next in line to protect the world from threats both near and far. Through the years there have been different protectors, sworn to uphold justice and do what is necessary for the good of the universe, and I do believe it has finally time to choose again." Zordon looked at each of them and nodded his head. "I am sure each of you has many questions, so please, one at a time. Whoever would like to go first, please step forward."</s>
<\|description\|>Unpronounceable in human tongue. Known Aliases Kailani Age Unknown, but appearance-wise late teens. Appearance There are two sides to Kailani's appearance, the more common one around Project Borehole being an incredibly small, unassuming young girl. Standing at a whole 4'11'', Kailani is deceptively fragile looking. She has rich dark brown hair that goes to mid back - though is usually pulled up in some capacity-, and tawny, light-brown skin with honey eyes. She has a fondness for thick cardigans and bright colors, but rarely gets access to them. Of course, her nature can't be entirely hidden even in this form. Despite its small stature, Kailani's form is incredibly heavy; easily hundreds of pounds densely packed into what looks like little more than a young girl. The second tell is the most subtle, as there's an ever-present hunger that lingers in her gaze. These oddities are entirely down to what Kailani actually is, which isn't human. Her species has been given the common name Devourer, a monstrous alien with never-ending hunger. Her true form is comparable to a full-size SUV, and just as heavy if not more. With thick purple plates along the sides and back, two large clawed arms, and a slavering mouth of teeth that can crush through anything a Devourer is a tank of a creature. In this form Kailani speaks in equal parts growling, chittering, and low pitches unheard to the human ear. Psyche Profile In many ways, Kailani could easily be described as a puppy. Excitable, curious, and hasn't quite learned the nuance of what is and isn't a chew toy. She is incredibly upbeat, often sporting a toothy grin and bright eyes, not shying away from even the most dangerous of beings with questions and chatter. Her own danger comes from the fact that though she appears fascinated by humans, and when properly enriched can even seem harmless - aside from talking your ear off-, Kailani is always hungry. Given the opportunity, she can and will eat even those that have bonded with her - though she seems to prefer other sources if given a choice between the two. With no choice, there isn't a shred of hesitation or regret. She has no moral backing when it comes to her own needs, be it hunger or plain curiosity. Speaking of, it's a good idea to keep an eye on her at all times considering that 'eating' is her usual way of exploring or discovering something she's curious about. Background It was a year and a half ago that Kailani's carnage was first discovered. At first, it was assumed that a small meteor had hit one of the smaller Hawaiian Islands in the middle of the night, nothing more than a write away for excited space enthusiasts in the rumble of the impact. Within eight hours, the nearest town greeted the dawn to families gone, buildings burrowed though, and a monster excitedly bounding from building to building to break it open like a demented Kinder Surprise. To make things even more convoluted, when confronted by a superhero she couldn't just chew through, Kailani's form melded and morphed into what seemed to just be a happy girl, blood splattered across her lower face and fingers as she excitedly chittered and asked what they were made of. Though eventually contained, Kailani's arrival was marked with blood and destruction. Truly, it seemed she didn't even understand what was wrong. She was hungry, and so she ate. She was curious, and so she ate. When superheroes traced the path back, they found the crater she must've arrived in, and there had to have been something that encapsulated her considering the miniscule pieces of a white plastic-like material. Predictably, it seems Kailani awoke from her sleep and promptly ate her way out of the pod. Then the rest of it. Interrogations were an exercise in futility. Kailani appeared to be a very young Devourer, speaking of being born with dozens of siblings deep in the crust of their planet, and ending with only three of them left after the strong feasted on the weak. Trying to get any information about her planet resulted in descriptions of tastes, textures, and smells - even how she ended up on Earth deviated from talk of being transported to a new home right to how she likes how the 'human' bones crunch and have sauce in the middle of them. Though they did get quite a bit of information about her own species, Kailani didn't seem to have satisfactory answers to anything outside of that. Eventually the superhero that stopped her offered to take her in. That ended poorly, when she ended up eating the arm of his other sidekick when told not to damage his base. In truth, it's a combination of her own danger and the fact that she's not a very helpful subject that ended up with Kailani in Thornwood. After all, it had the facilities to keep her in line and allowed further study while keeping others away from her gaping maw. Maybe it was even a bit of green lining the pockets of others, as surely an alien that could utilize changing their very DNA would be of interest to certain studies conducted there. Skills, Talents and Learning Eating! … Wait, that's not a skill? In truth, considering her short time on Earth Kailani's most useful aspects are her powers rather than any learned skills. That being said, she can speak English and Hawaiian, and knows how to operate small boats for all its worth. Power(s) and Capabilities Black Hole: Kailani's race appears to be able to consume anything that's handed to her. Solids, liquids, acids, rocks, bones, fresh, rotten - she can digest absolutely everything, as well as bite through everything with a combination of powerful jaws and strangely coated teeth, not to mention a reinforced throat. Adaption: This alien is also extremely adaptable to her environment, as she has to be in order to eat whatever is in it. When she eats enough of a species she can take on qualities of it in shapeshifting - but not specific ones she ate, rather just a variation of the race. As well as that, in a unique quirk it appears her very lungs will adapt to her environment to purify the air; on earth she breathes in carbon monoxide and exhales oxygen due to adapting to humans rather than something like trees. Further, her body destroys harmful pathogens she inhales. Power Limits Needs to eat a large amount of a species to adapt to it, and though Kailani can eat enough that her other needs or wants will become apparent, she's never truly sated. Known Vulnerabilities Kailani's biggest flaw is always going to relate directly back to her hunger. Due to her incredibly ravenous appetite, her body will begin to eat itself in as little as six hours without food, and she would die after only two days without sustenance. Further, though her true form is built like a tank, she is particularly vulnerable to mental and elemental powers. In her human shapeshift she isn't nearly as armored, and a normal bullet would easily pierce her skin - the only exception appears to be the inside of her mouth and throat. Motives Hunger, hunger, hunger. Kailani longs to no longer be on this forced diet, yet even more than that she longs for something different than this place she has been confined to. When she first landed there were strange plants, small creatures, the smell of salt, the taste of blood and marrow and glass and plastic. Now it's all grey walls and 'portions'. Recommended Containment Procedures Keeping Kailani in her human form is key. She's to be outfitted with a collar and 'muzzle', the latter to keep her from simply eating anything in her way, the former to shock her into unconsciousness should she try to change forms. Food intake is limited and has to be worked around the muzzle - she's not meant to be starved, but by keeping her on strict portions she's less energetic and more malleable with promises of food. As an aside, she doesn't need to be fed typical food and can be used to dispose of garbage, plastics, or rot. Notes Tends to describe things in taste and texture rather than anything useful. Her favorite Earth food is batteries.</s> <\|message\|>Janet Bridgerson In the course of her career, if you could call it that, Janet had many different escape routes: through the sea, flying over mountains, hiding in dens of ill repute. None were so brazen as appearing in broad daylight, in front of dozens of panicked civilians, surrounded by other villains covered in blood and in the middle of an amusement park. Janet wondered if this was some kind of genius maneuver, beyond her own knowledge and experience, or not. Oh well. She was free, for the moment. Her longest stay in prison thus far, 25 years (give or take some months), had finally come to a close. Freedom, for whatever value it had, was secure for just a minute. With the rest of her fellow escapees being gravely wounded, cowering over those wounded people rather than leaving them behind, already leaving the grounds or concerning themselves with gluttony, it was clear that she needed to act fast if she wanted this freedom to be anything but momentary. Two others, one young and pierced, and the other crooked-toothed and finely dressed, walked over to Kailani. Inroads had already been made here, so Janet was ready to make use of them. "Excuse me." She wheeled over to the three, ignoring Kailani's violent consumption of an entire stand that had probably been sitting in the park for decades. A piece of pretzel slapped against her pedestal's side and slid off. "I'm afraid I'm behind on current events. If any of you are the orchestrators of today's exfiltration, then thank you, but let's skip further gratitude." "You would most likely know me as Professor Perfection. My reputation should precede me. If it does, you should know that I'm more than capable of getting us back on our collective feet, given time." She looked up at Mr. Q, specifically. The wounded man's disappearance, his "entourage" going alongside him, would speed up her timetable at least. "I do not have any inkling about what your next move will be. However," she glanced to the side at Abby, "I can give you somewhere to operate out of for the time being. I doubt any of you have contingency bases pre-prepared. What I lack is a means of transportation."</s> <\|message\|>Randolph Ward When Randolph recovered from whatever condition afflicted him, he found himself alone. Well, unless you count the assortment of flesh and limbs lacking any owner. Randolph himself was left with confusion, an intense hunger, and a cold sticky sensation in his throat. This feeling slowly trudged up and out his throat, making it difficult to breath, almost choking him. He attempted to expel the mass with a few forceful coughs, and after a few minutes a inky formless mass was thrusted out of his mouth and onto the wall in front of him, splattering the surface with a sizzle. It might have been a vestige of whatever afflicted him that confuddled his eyes, but the mass seemed to twitch with intent and dissolve the wall like it was acidic, or perhaps eating the wall. But the ghoul did not dwell on this, vaguely remembering he was asked to be somewhere…. Or do… something. There were others he was with, but where were they? Where was anyone? A cursory exploration showed the aftermath of the escape has thrust the facility into a state of disarray. Scenes of destruction were common, with doors torn or ruptured in various ways, a mass of recently dead bodies, and few working sources of light. Randolph found the one elevator in the whole place, that he knew of, seemed to be either disabled or destroyed, he was not sure but either way it was not working. Which would be bad for anyone trying to leave unless they had another way out, and with the state of the facility Randolph could burrow his way to the surface. Nothing left for him anyway, as he was either left behind or forgotten so there is no where to go but up. First though, Randolph burrowed a few miles away before going up, he had no way of knowing what was directly above him and it be unfortunate to be recaptured so soon. After about half an hour, he broke through the ground and was blindsided when he discovered it was in the middle of the day and in a crowded location. Coincidentally, he emerged near the other escapees though he was not concerned with them at the moment. Randolph's senses were assailed by an assortment of lights and sounds that he detested. At least in the prison it was relatively dark and quiet most of the time. He sure as hell was not going back there, but he was going back in the ground for a while. Plus, he was famished, and was certain there would be a cemetery or graveyard or at least a dead body buried in the woods or something nearby. If any of the others cared or needed him, they should know where to find him.</s>	<\|message\|>Unpronounceable in human tongue. The scents were delicious, the paint chips were delicious, the salt was delicious, everything was delicious! Not as good as batteries though. Kailani was having a ball devouring the pretzel stand. Not just the dough - in fact, that seemed to be her least favorite part - but just plain eating the stand itself. Once the larger pieces were done her tongue scraped along the ground, gathering bits of salt, splinters of wood, and chips of paint into one glorious left-over mouthful. This was amazing! The fresh air, the sounds, the lights! There were loud voices, too. The Devourer lifted her head, examining the people that were watching from farther away. Some were slowly beginning to approach, some were on their little phones. It was just like in the prison. People grouped up like a smorgasbord, a line of little treats to go right in her mouth. Drool dripped from her mouth at the thought, and she took a step forward- "Skree?" The sound of her shorthand name drew the alien's attention, the large being twisting to look behind her. There was Abby, introduced what seemed like only minutes before, offering to go somewhere. For a moment, Kailani just twisted to look between the girl and the crowd, chittering in a low, thoughtful tone. Then The Janet was also talking to Abby and the strange man who looked like he tasted like aluminum and mentioned she needed transportation. Oh! Kailani could do that! She could do that and get fed, and be safe as Abby was offering! Erupting into a tidal wave of excited shrieks and chitters, Kailani jumped in place in an alien version of 'tappy paws', head bobbing in a nod. Then she abruptly slammed a hand into the concrete beneath them and began eating the bits of concrete and dirt beneath it. Damn, it was good to be free.</s>
<\|description\|>Alfred Gunther Known Aliases: Frostbite Age: 28 Appearance: Standing at 5'9" and weighing 60 kilograms, Alfred Gunther appears to be an unassuming man that could hardly be suspected of being a non-mundane. He naturally has black hair, and strands of grey could be seen if someone looks closely enough. Psyche Profile: Alfred seems to be tranquil in nature, as he rarely if ever raises his voice to… well, anyone. He has a cheerful disposition, and that's not really that far from the truth. His records indicate that he really was, for the most part, a model citizen, with the incidents that landed him into the Borehole being the only odd ones out. Even when transformed as the Cryo Phoenix, he retains this personality. It is indeed strange to see such a creature of terrifying power to appear to be so friendly, though whether or not this is merely a ruse is yet to be seen. Alfred expresses regret over the devastation that his other half is capable of, but as his memory is intact, he had stated that the things he did as the Cryo Phoenix were fully justified, if not done in a far less than subtle way. Perhaps this can be explained by the theory that the consciousnesses of Frostbite and Alfred Gunther have merged into a single psychic entity within his mind. Historical records indicate that the Frostbite is a primordial entity that had been imprisoned and manipulated for centuries, being freed when it passed into Alfred Gunther. The synchronicity of their minds remains unexplained, but this merger disrupted whatever mental chains that its controllers once had. Alfred Gunther/Frostbite now seek bloody retribution for the continual anguish that it suffered. It is reasonable to assume that those members of that 'Cabal' are the only beings that he would be irrevocably hostile to. Irritation may briefly capture Gunther should other prisoners or the guards intentionally aggravate him, but he would usually dismiss these later on. Despite this apparent selectiveness, Frostbite has no qualms about collateral damage. Background: According to records, Alfred Gunther hailed from a lower middle income family in Juneau, Alaska. He is the only child of Sandra Poltar Gunther and William Gunther, and was described to have been 'cherished and spoiled rotten'. William worked as a miner that secretly was bonded to the [REDACTED] and was one of the non-mundane, while Sandra was a nurse. High costs of living ensured that their funds were always short and barely sufficient to provide for everything they needed. As such, everyday was yet another period of time in which the fate of their home would be decided. He had no siblings, with his one potential younger brother dying from a miscarriage. He did have friends, but it wasn't enough to fill the void. He would later go on to finish university through the aid of a scholarship, and went to a career of pharmaceutical research. When Alfred was around 27 years old, he appeared to have contracted a serious illness. Hospital records from Juneau indicate that it was late stage leukemia, having gone undetected over the years until it began seriously affecting his life. There was little hope of curing it so late, and his life was almost certain to end within several months, his father William turned to desperate measures just to save his life. He implored that the [REDACTED] go and save him. Sandra, being unaware of this arrangement, had all but accepted that their only child was going to be gone too soon. Until he wasn't. When Alfred was taken out for a walk in the patch of woodland near the hospital, a phoenix of ice emerged from the forest, initially frightening hikers and campers in the area but eventually disappearing into the night. Sandra thought that Alfred's recovery was a miracle. William, and to a lesser extent, Alfred himself knew what really happened: an eldritch creature, a being of primal winter, had come to inhabit his body and mind like his father before him. He had been given new life, and perhaps a life of ageless immortality for as long as the Frostbite is bound to him, but at what cost? Such eldritch action would not go unnoticed. After around a year, a cabal of sorcerers, the ones that had granted William the power of the Frostbite decades prior in exchange for saving his life, were enraged to learn the creature they created had transferred into a new host, one they couldn't control. As such, they sent threats of annihilation, and gave a short deadline before they carried them out. The one thing they didn't expect, however, was for the Frostbite to be utterly intertwined into the mind of Alfred Gunther to the point that it was him, and he was it. Memories of the other treacherous deeds that the Cabal flowed through his mind. He even saw how they operated in collusion with other groups. So, a day after they had sent their missives of destruction, the Cryophoenix attacked the city hall where they were secretly ruling as Juneau's lords, utterly destroying them, save for one, who managed to escape through a portal. That is not what the world thought, however. From the perspective of any good citizen, this was an indiscriminate attack against the long serving city council that had done good to Juneau. And so, the government tracked down Frostbite and apprehended him. The lone survivor of the Cabal propped up additional charges, such as the trafficking of illegal narcotics, black market trading, and the committing of unsolved murders that the Cabal had actually committed in protecting their position. These all went through, of course, and Alfred Gunther was sent to the Borehole… Skills, Talents and Learning: For most of his life, he had relegated himself to staying behind a desk, and as such, wouldn't appear to be physically intimidating as a human, though he did have self defense class years prior. When transformed, he appears to have a far more innate understanding of combat whether at range or in close quarters, and would consistently use the environment to aid himself. He was a pharmacist; however, Alfred doubts that any skills learned as one would be beneficial in any escape attempt. Power(s) and Capabilities: Cyro Phoenix Transformation: Alfred has the ability to turn into a Frost Phoenix with a body made from supernatural ice at will. The Phoenix itself is about the same height as he is as a human, bearing a wingspan of around 10 feet wide at maximum. The ice that comprises this form is of eldritch nature, being strangely resistant against small arms fire and sharp weapons. The wings each have a single claw that can easily deal painful wounds to an unprotected person. Transforming into the Frost Phoenix essentially atomizes and reforms his body; as such, injuries sustained as a human are removed upon transformation. Taking injuries whilst human will trigger transformation as a form of subconscious defence mechanism. Cryokinesis In the Frost Phoenix state, he is able to breath conical blasts of freezing wind at close to medium ranges, rapidly draining the kinetic and heat energy of targets caught in the attack to the point that they could be turned into frozen popsicles. In addition, his presence exudes a cold zone with a radius of three meters, causing temperatures to gradually drop to -5° C unless counteracted by a heat factor within that zone. As a human, Alfred is able to create and manipulate ice into whatever shape he wishes, though this ice isn't the supernatural variant that his transformed state is composed of. Since his cryokinetic ability in his human state is rather weak and incapable of ever killing anyone, he uses his cryokinesis to make pretty ice sculptures. Power Limits: Alfred's abilities appear to lack reach; in order to freeze any hostile entities, he has to close the distance of at least seven feet. In addition, his cryokinetic powers can be counteracted through insulating materials and heat based powers/weaponry. The transformation into a Cryo Phoenix is not instant, taking around 10 seconds to complete. As such, nearby guards would be able to respond to it using a taser to cut the transformation short. Known Vulnerabilities: The Frost Phoenix, while capable of maintaining an extremely cold internal temperature, can be overwhelmed by consistent application of intense heat and forced into a catatonic state, if not simply transforming back into a human form. In addition to intense heat, Cyro Phoenix form appears to be vulnerable against sonic based attacks as well as extreme blunt force. Motives: Alfred is driven to reveal the treachery of the Cabal of Juneau and their cohorts, though his subconscious directs him to enact vengeance upon them for ancient wrongs. That is the one thing he wishes to do if he is freed, and nothing or no one will get in the way. Noble intentions? Perhaps. Methods? Uncompromising annihilation. Collateral be damned. Level: Threat level, as defined by the Borehole's parameters. I will assign this to your character. Recommended Containment Procedures: Alfred is to be kept inside a cell lined with insulated walls that are lined with thermal projectors. Heating kicks off whenever he attempts to freeze his way out of the cell. When outside the cell, Alfred is to have an ankle-strapped power dampener to prevent him from transforming while away from the containment systems of his cell. Notes: He insists on having spicy noodles as part of his lunch.</s> <\|message\|>Abigail "Abby" Zebrowski @Klumsykrow357 @Restalaan @Perse @KaelRavenheart @SrslyAnArtist@The Man Emperor@Blazion @SrslyAnArtist Abigail "Atom Bomb" Zebrowski Abby was happy to have the others watching her back, she was sure she would not get past the heavy guards on her own. The only problem is that there seemed to be more of them than before, "Kail theirs more food for ya, clear a path for us pretty please." Pointing towards the armed guards blocking the elevator. Being licked by the giant alien dog, The punk girl had a feeling that Kail considered her a friend. Abby was not sure if she could be as effective as the others, her powers would not be as effective as the others. Her confidence seemed to deflate a little, She didn't think that she would not be able to keep up with the others. But Abby felt a sudden rush of energy surging throughout her body. Turning her head around wondering where the radiation came from. She was sure as hell thankful because now she could help the group with fighting the guards. Her eyes started to turn a bright shade of green, her whole body emitting a good amount of radiation. If she could compare this feeling it would be like getting a hit of heroin. "Shame I can't thank whoever gave me that boost." Her hands started to glow, shooting the light green balls towards the guards. Causing the guards that were hit to roll around on the floor, some of them removing their helmets revealing their blistered and burnt faces. Fighting her way through the guards and towards the elevator. Kicking the faces of the guards that were coming towards her, Using the boost of power to disable their attackers. Letting the others clean up the weakened guards. Drop kicking one of the guards, quickly getting back onto her feet. Grabbing a guard's arm, disarming him and taking the pistol from his hands. Pointing it at another guard that was trying to attack Iris. Hesitating for a moment, her hands were shaking violently. She could hear a voice speaking to her, "Do it, if you don't your friend is going to die." Quickly looking around wondering where the voice was coming from. Turning her attention back to the guards attacking Iris, she pulled the trigger popping a few shots into them. Stunning him enough for Iris to finish him off. Abby was still shaking from firing the gun at the guard, taking another human life. "Your a killer Abby, you enjoy watching the light leave your victim's eyes. If you don't act and defend yourself, your gonna end up as a corpse." The voice seemed to be happening in her head. "Who is this? Where are ya?" Screaming out loud wondering if it was Mr.Q talking to her. "I'm not who you think I am, I'm just a friend watching your back. You better head to the elevator, or your gonna be DEAD LAST." This made Abby snap back to what was going on around her. Quickly picking up another pistol that was on the ground, duel wielding both pistols. Firing them at the guards while moving towards the elevator. Of course because of her inexperience, she missed most of her shots. Throwing the empty pistols at the guards, going back to using her powers. Firing those deadly green bolts of radiation at the heavily armed men. Running towards one of the guards, twisting the man's arm breaking it with a loud SNAP. She was no killer, she was not like the others. The people that Abby killed were all accidents. But then again she was still a murderer, even if it was an accident she still took a person's life. Running over towards the elevator, once the way was clear by her group."We wait for the others, I'm not gonna leave anyone behind." She said to Körbl, holding the door for the others to join her.</s> <\|message\|>Körbl Meier @TheRedWatcher @Klumsykrow357 @Perse @KaelRavenheart @SrslyAnArtist@The Man Emperor@Blazion @SrslyAnArtist Hmph. Seeing multiple people getting into the lift and taking their time, it was like seeing an anthive being open forcefully by a shovel. So many inmates, prisoners, and guards. Fighting desperately for their freedom. That kind of raw fight, where everything is on the line. It never gets tiring to see it. Then as Abby finally went inside and he joining her side, they were joined by others as the level that they're on will finally be traversed. Still, who knows how many levels are there left? Then someone apparently dropped right on top of their lift, one that had him instantly looked up and readied to fight but there was no hostile intent. Opening itself and with someone armed to the teeth as they deposited many weapons, Körbl eyes looked and sighted a sword. "Can I have one of those?"Körbl pointed to a Katana. It was no messer and he had never really utilized these before but it was better than nothing.</s>	<\|message\|>Alfred Gunther Alfred Gunther/The Frostbite Never One... Without the Other Frostbite quickly flew in from the hallway, his path trailing with a cold aftermath of frost and snow. The Phoenix's eyes didn't blink at the grisly sights to both his left and right; perhaps this is because he was a creature of such primordial age, existing since before civilization had even risen in the earliest cradles of humanity. Short lived human lives were just numbers to it by now, the comprehension of the Frostbite and its brethren far beyond the ken of mere mortals. However, with those it chooses, to the men and women that he and the rest of the kind dare bind themselves to, they achieve an eternal mutual understanding, an intertwining of thoughts and emotions so deep that they could be said to be one being with two minds. The rest of those that stood in the way of the Frost Phoenix's freedom, however, will be made into history, though their names will be forgotten in the next centuries. "Before you ask, no, I'm not reverting. Not yet," Frostbite simply said as he folded his cold wings closer to his icy body the same way any other bird would. "Now where are the rest? If a league of superheroes come here before we can scatter into the four winds of the Earth, we're screwed."</s>
<\|description\|>Körbl Meier Known Aliases: Messer, Blatt Meister, that fucking loony with a hardon for swords (Courtesy of the Brooklyn Police Commissioner). Appearance: A man that's into his late twenties with blonde short hair with his hair line past the eyes, giving the impression his eyes are covered. Standing at 181 cm with a wiry but incredibly toned body. Clean-shaven before but sporting a short beard now due to his imprisonment. A normal-looking prisoner that would've fit in most heavy prison, if one ignore that his hands are forever cuffed together alongside a heavy chain ball to each of his ankles. A single one nearing 250 KG, totaling to 500 kg pieces of metal being dragged by him. Psyche Profile: Remarkably well-behaved, straight-forward, and taciturn compared to the other rowdy prisoners but the warden knows better due to his background. Prisoners that are strong, or decent enough for Meier standards are often sought and challenged by him. Solely for the thrills or overcoming himself to be stronger. Five or four inmates that lacked the sense to refuse were demolished brutally, since then, not many dared to take upon his challenge and tried to stay away. This is the most problematic aspect of Meier, even before his imprisonment, Meier continued this streak of violence all across Europe, then Asia, before finally being arrested in New York City. All of it followed the same pattern, fight after fight, ranging from gangsters, mafias, local enforcement, assassins, army, guerillas and even super-heroes. A sole dedication, perhaps even insanity, to seek nothing but strength. Background: Körbl Meier was born and raised in Germany, Dinkelsbühl, into a small family with him being the only son. An odd, perhaps fate or coincidence, was that Meier family line was blessed with a wisp of power from gods, or aliens, perhaps one or the other. Regardless of its source, it granted Meier an increase of physical prowess and capabilities to recuperate from his wounds much faster. Nothing as fantastical as other villains or heroes that could outright regenerate a limb, Meier in comparison was still able to recover much faster compared to normal humans. This was what allowed his father to be a teacher of historical sword fighting techniques. One that tried to stay true to its roots for practical combat, and had seen some limited uses amongst the army for a way to suppress and restrain others. Studying it from young by his watchful and earnest father, Meier took to it like fish to water. At a young age, he was close to rivaling his father. Yet what was the point of the art dedicated to war without war? This gnawed at Meier, eating him inside out until it all came to a point where Meier slew a gangster that held a gun, threatening to shoot him and a local shop owner in the middle of attempted larceny. Using nothing but a knife, Meier slice the gangster in half. It took barely any effort for him to end a life but the overwhelming sensation of victory, triumph, and enjoyment was...liberating. Since then, Meier left his home behind to seek out nothing but ways to test himself with his sword and body. Each one feeding into his desire to hone himself to become stronger, faster, more skilled. To reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship and beyond. Europe, Asia, and then America, it all came to a point where he was bested by a far stronger hero that overpowered him and broke his swords as well. Despite this defeat, Meier never stopped looking outside of the world. Hoping one day for another rematch. After all, he finally found the challenge he so wanted. Why would he stop now? Skills, Talents and Learning: His numerous brush with opponents with guns, blade, blunt weapons, rods, and rare high-tech weapon had given Meier a strong sense of survival instinct, reflexes and instinct. Capable of wielding the small humble messer, to the two handed ones. Epees, falchion, rapier, zweihanders. Even mundane weapons like the small box-cutter blade, butterfly and kitchen knife in Meier's hands turn into a deadly instrument. If not because of his villainous career, he would've been the undisputed sword champion for decades to come. Power(s) and Capabilities: Demi-god or Terrestrial constitution: Meier body was much stronger than with no muscular loss and allowing him to push it beyond the limits. He had went from a regular human to being able to tussle with low-ranking super-heroes easily, combined with limited self-regeneration that always keeps his body to its peak. This elevated Meier speed and strength to the point anyone outside of superheroes often be beaten easily. Even mid-tier heroes had to be wary of Meier physical power before taking account of his sword capabilities. Power Limits: Despite this seemingly unending growth, it's still a slow climb and further efforts to push past his limits had been slow. He had been at a plateau for years before his defeat, hence why he had to fight someone that was way beyond his power. Experts estimated that it would've taken twenty years or longer to push past his current body. Keeping him at a known level at least for now barring an intense fight that pushes Meier over the edge that his body improves itself. Known Vulnerabilities: Tear/stun/flash grenade, sleeping gas, tranquilizers, poison, chemical or biological attack all work well on Meier as despite his strength and speed, he is still very vulnerable to attacks to the senses. Restraining him, while requiring many personnel sacrifices, electrocution and cables, works just as well. Motives: To once again fight the hero that defeated him and stand at the pinnacle of swordsmanship. After wading through so much blood, bodies and bones, he had finally found the high peaks of superheroes and supervillains. That there are still bigger fishes that he can fry. There's no way he'll sit by and rot. Perhaps he'll die in the process ignobly, chasing a fool's dream but for Miere, it was more than worth it to break free from this cage. Level: Recommended Containment Procedures: - Do not allow any objects within subject that can be used as weapon. - increase weight of cuffs and ball periodically before the body can adapt to it. -Inmates of known strength, combat or myriad abilities are to never come in contact with subject. Last altercation with another inmate had occurred and ended within less than a second. Weaker subjects are allowed but still under heavy observation, guards with nets, fast acting tranquilizers, tasers should be close by. - His cell are to be flooded with gas immediately should subject attempt escape -There are no keys for subject cuffs, it's to be rivetted and locked in place by welding to restrain arm movement. Notes: Subject is known to read plenty of books and likes to paint. Only known time where subject is extremely cooperative with the guards and warden to gain access to painting supplies. Everything is to be tallied and check at the end.</s> <\|message\|>John Doe (Only ever referred to as such on documentation. Staff, face-to-face, typically just call him Charon) --- --- A frown stretched across Charon's features as he locked eyes with the physically fit yet no less scraggly looking blonde man. Time seemed to stand still for Charon as he watched the man sit at the same table he'd been assigned to. He knew this one. Körbl. One of the ones his implant had been tested on without success. Also one of the inmates he had been kept from interacting with the most. Likely due to the fact that were the two to engage the results may well be catastrophic for the Asylum. Now that the implant had been successfully applied however, perhaps the staff wanted to test how much they could trust it to reign Charon in. 'Awful lot of faith.' Charon mused to himself. His thoughts of tactics and violence and how to debilitate everyone in his immediate vicinity were interrupted. A cheerful, somewhat annoying voice rang out amongst the conversations happening around the table. Aimed directly at him. He shifted his gaze towards the young looking muzzled girl. Hands outstretched in a begging posture while she eyed the plate of slop in front of Charon. Although his stone face didn't show it, he was momentarily taken aback by this. Most of the inmates, for good reason, gave him a wide berth or tried to intimidate him to fuel their own ego. Charon's first initial thought was to dump the contents of the plate on the floor while maintaining eye contact. After a second of deliberation he felt that too petty, even for him. Particularly with the fact that the woman was already collared and muzzled. Like a dog. "No. I don't." Charon answered, voice deep and coarse like sandpaper. He slowly slid the plate towards the woman. He made sure to continue his unblinking stare of cold disdain in order to ensure she did not take it as any gesture of compassion or comradery. Were the situation to change here, he would put her down without any remorse. He looked back over towards Körbl. For such an off-putting person his question of the table's strength seemed to inspire a lot of discussion. The type of which Charon had no interest in entertaining. Instead he looked past Körbl. Past the strange ice manipulating man, the punk looking woman, the insecure man vying for attention, the dull looking woman who had just sat down. Actually that did almost catch Charon's attention considering she'd strong armed a metallic looking man who was several times her size. But instead Charon focused on Ameliya. Having just been shocked by one of the guards for insubordination. While she, and the punk looking woman who'd attempted to stick up for her and was similarly reprimanded, seemed to move on from the incident. Charon kept his gaze focused and his hands tensed. He wasn't ever given much warning when the guards would use him to take down another inmate. Better to be ready, just in case.</s> <\|message\|>Rueyn Grimm Rueyn aka The Reaper Noise... always so much noise... Shut the fuck up, all of you. Rueyn met Ameliya's eyes and gave a nod in return, tilting her horned redhead in hello. She noted that she seemed to have been tased recently, her hair was a bit staticky and stuck up in ways it didn't normally. "I'm guessing you put one in his place and he didn't like that," she observed, the question mark unspoken. She then gave a loud, demonic rumble of appreciation as the air cleared up from the unholy miasma that seemed to permeate this place, replaced by the smell of thunder and lightning, and she had a feeling she knew who did it, but she wasn't sure wether to directly thank her. Eh, she would just be herself about it. There was no need to pretend or make an attempt unless someone else did and even then she didn't trust them until she was sure she knew what the long con was, if there was one. "Ozone smells so much better than the filth that usually passes for filtered air in this shithole," she commented, voice rumbling and distorted by the mask, then turned to look at the girl with the muzzle, who had her hands clasped together in classic beggar fashion, asking if she could have the food that she wasn't eating. So, that's the Devourer. That's an interesting form she chose for herself, perhaps it reflects how young she really is. The muzzle must frustrate her, I could relate, once-upon-a-fucked-up-time. "Be my guest," she leaned forward and nonchalantly handed over the tray of slop that they insisted on giving her every time, no matter how many times she dumped it into the trash or gave it away to whoever wasn't pissing her off. "They insist on giving me this shit when I don't even need to eat unless I want to. Aye, here, bet you haven't tried this yet." In a rare moment of unexpected civility and perhaps even friendliness, she slipped a handful of cube-shaped ginger candies from seemingly nowhere and onto the tray as she gave it over to the girl. Romanov meanwhile, watched her prisoner intently, on edge waiting for the moment she might need to step in and calm the reaper before she got violent, but relaxed a little when she saw that Ruyn was merely sharing her ginger. Not entirely out of character for her (Romanov had been offered some a few times), but most wouldn't know that. "Conversations of strength and weakness and who can fuck up who better is fucking useless. There will always be someone or a group of someones who can and will kick your ass. Save your breath so I don't have to smell it, along with every other jackass's unwashed armpits, genitals, rotting teeth, and shit-crusted ass cheeks. Even Death demons don't smell like rotting corpses. No offense, Randolph. 'Least you've a valid reason for it." Ahh There was the Reaper that she knew best. Rueyn ended her piece by removing her mask with her bone-colored claw-tipped hand to set it on her thigh, revealing the exposed bones and wicked, long fangs and serrated teeth. The scar that ran above her left eye apparently had been so deep that even her cheekbone bore scoring, and judging by the slightly darker color in the groove, it was an old one. She opened her wicked jaws to pop some of the ginger cubes into her mouth, the flash of a pierced forked tongue as she did so. Rueyn had learned that this face of hers was actually an advantage in this kind of environment, and did it every so often to remind people that she was not human, not bound by human limitations and was still capable of ripping you to shreds, without her powers.</s>	<\|message\|>Körbl Meier "What's this?" Grinning, his teeth showed brightly as Körbl listened to the various replies. More than he expected even. "And here I thought everyone had lost their spines. How quaint." Körbl blood boiled and heart pounded with renewed excitement, he had resigned to thinking there won't be anyone willing to step up after his four altercations with other prisoners. Yet there are still willing to say so. It didn't really matter what power they had, physical, mental, magical, technological, supernatural, Körbl didn't give a single thought about it. So long one was ready to answer, it was more than enough for him. Already from afar, movement and activity from the guards had already spread as they try to move an unruly prisoner into place. That brief distraction was all that Körbl needed as he grabbed the wooden spoon. "Then onto my second question." "Who amongst us...is the strongest?" Körbl this time said loudly, body readied and willing to jump into action. It's been a long time since he had gotten into a proper fight. Frankly, even a tussle against the guards seemed tempting at this rate. The pounding in his head was reaching a crescendo and lust for battle bottled over the past few month oozed outwards. Reaching a point where it was like an overflowed dam. (If GM wants to have guards taze/restraint Körbl, this is the chance.)</s>
<\|description\|>Ameliya Pyrrhus Known Aliases: On conspiracy theorist boards, she was humorously called 'Spontaneous Human Combustion' or SHC for short. Though if she had to choose she would prefer her second nickname, Inferna Age: 29 Appearance: 5'8" foot tall, toned muscles, warm sepia toned skin, and fire-red hair that some could even swear were alight. Psyche Profile: That is one angry bitch. If she isn't threatening to set you alight, she is being a sarcastic asshole and spitting fire in a metaphorical sense. An old guard was once stupid enough to give her a gift as a way to try to calm her down, she burned that teddy bear right in front of his eyes, and then of course he was fired. He was just lucky he wasn't actually set on fire by her as well. There has been progression though, and we are happy to say she has at least stopped lighting herself on fire. It seemed after a few months, it started to become understood all that ended up giving her was exhaustion and a lack of clothes. Background: * Her mother gave her as an offering to a king of the underworld, when she just a newborn. * Ameliya was the plaything or toy to the king, she would be given the freedom to go back to earth only to be dragged back without warning. She had the hope of normal ripped from her again and again just to remind her how small she was compared to him and how helpless she was. It was all about dominating her and making her feel useless and broken. * Through the days where she could escape though, she did her research and finding and when she turned 24 she managed to kill the king and earn her freedom. * Since then she spent her time as an assassin. A sharpshooter with incendiary bullets, she was the answer behind what a lot of people considered spontaneous human combustion. * She started by taking on the jobs of people she believes deserve to die but the longer she did the work, the more she felt like she needed more. She had an insatiable hunger for death, like an itch that she couldn't scratch. She just needed to kill one more guy, one more person and maybe she would finally be free from everything. * The numbers racked up and she got sloppy, not caring if the new target was a mafia boss, a drug dealer, or just an adultering spouse. That finally caught some powerful people's attention, powerful as in the way lasers shoot out of eyes and trains are lifted with ease... and so she once again found herself in a battle that she couldn't beat. Skills, Talents and Learning: * She specializes as a sharpshooter with incendiary bullets, which thanks to her powers this means when she hits her target, she lights them up and burns them to dust. * She also has basic fighting skills, the kind you would find on the streets, and are more than likely were learned out of a need to survive. Power(s) and Capabilities: Fire Embodiment: * Can create fire * Can control the fire within her sight * Her body can turn into a form of a woman made of flames, when in this form her healing is also accelerated Power Limits: * She might be able to control the flames within her view, but as soon as they are out of her sight they are just wildfire like any other fire out of control. * Her fire form though could be seen as impressive, is not something she has much control over. She often lits anything around her without any intent to, her touch in this form hurts those around her. She also can only keep this form for an hour, without adding fuel to the fire and if used too long it will wear her out and often leads to unconsciousness. Known Vulnerabilities: That and of course there are many different ways of how to kill a fire: * Water * Ice * Fire extinguishers * Sand * Lack of oxygen Motives: Ameliya craves freedom, because of her past trauma she doesn't totally know what this looks like but she is damn sure it's not being in the borehole. Recommended Containment Procedures: * Power dampner cuff on her ankle to keep her powers in check, she is still able to cause smaller fires but not able to meltdown the cafeteria around her. * Her cell is outlined in concrete, she is unable to catch anything other than her own essentials on fire. If fires are started though, there are a multitude of ways to contain her. The most preferred being fire extinguishers from anywhere in the room or the removal of oxygen. * When she is out of the cell, she is to always be with at least two guards in fire retardant clothes, which are most often used by firefighters. They are also to be supplied with fire extinguishers and tasers. Notes: Playlist: open.spotify.com/playlist/13BTH5aTm2j…</s> <\|message\|>Körbl Meier Körbl Meier "What's this?" Grinning, his teeth showed brightly as Körbl listened to the various replies. More than he expected even. "And here I thought everyone had lost their spines. How quaint." Körbl blood boiled and heart pounded with renewed excitement, he had resigned to thinking there won't be anyone willing to step up after his four altercations with other prisoners. Yet there are still willing to say so. It didn't really matter what power they had, physical, mental, magical, technological, supernatural, Körbl didn't give a single thought about it. So long one was ready to answer, it was more than enough for him. Already from afar, movement and activity from the guards had already spread as they try to move an unruly prisoner into place. That brief distraction was all that Körbl needed as he grabbed the wooden spoon. "Then onto my second question." "Who amongst us...is the strongest?" Körbl this time said loudly, body readied and willing to jump into action. It's been a long time since he had gotten into a proper fight. Frankly, even a tussle against the guards seemed tempting at this rate. The pounding in his head was reaching a crescendo and lust for battle bottled over the past few month oozed outwards. Reaching a point where it was like an overflowed dam. (If GM wants to have guards taze/restraint Körbl, this is the chance.)</s> <\|message\|>Randolph Ward Randolph's aura traveled with him, the stench assailing the other inmates. Though Randolph usually maintains an air of sophistication to his demeaner and behavior, he can't help but smile a little for every person he disgusts. Some primal warmth emanates within, a instinct locked deep within the subconscious satisfied. It is a good feeling to cause dismay in others by presence alone, makes it less likely they will transgress on him. The only one unfazed was the muzzled girl who seemed…attracted to him. Randolph heard of her, some sort of voracious alien with an insatiable appetite. He should keep his distance lest he wind up on the dinner plate for once. But on the other hand, his curiosity demands observation. What is she? The Defiler has interesting tastes, perhaps she is some sort of creation of his? Or maybe a spawn of Abhoth, one who kept its progenitor's appetite? He noted to probe her mind at a later date, for the sake of his curiosity. "None taken. My kind have a different instinctual behavior to that sort of stimuli because, well, It's no secret. I do recognize it is as alien an idea to you as hygiene is for me…" Randolph turned to the demon, trying to recall her name. "…Rueyn, right? I don't believe I had the pleasure of meeting one of your kind, if you being a demon is true. I'd appreciate an opportunity to probe your mind, if you are willing, I'm curious if my theories bear any fruit or if your origins prove too esoteric." Randolph looked towards Körbl, confounded for a second. Randolph knew he had a tendency to start fights with the stronger inmates, but Randolph now realized it was a test of some sort. Where he wanted to fight his way to the top and remain there. At first Randolph was irritated at a foolish goal, his lips began to curl into a snarl. But then Randolph was distraught with introspection. Afterall, isn't this a mirror of his own journey? The constant and never-ending road of self-improvement. He seeks to perfect the flesh, while Randolph seeks to perfect the mind. "I see where this is going and I forfeit." Randolph said, a solemn expression forming. "In a physical, and honorable fight, I don't feel confident in my odds. But I do respect your commitment to physical improvement. I thought us inimical, but now I believe we are share much more semblance than I believed. If anyone else wants to fight, don't let me stop you…" Randolph concluded, before having a second thought and adding" "…besides, they might let me eat the loser." Randolph said with a grin. They let him eat a few metahumans before, and Randolph enjoyed sampling the taste their powers gave their flesh, something like a box of assorted chocolates. One never really knows what they will taste.</s>	<\|message\|>Ameliya Pyrrhus Looking over at the bright and cheery words coming out of her fellow cellmate, she couldn't help but chuckle at her plan to eat the guard that had gotten her ribs good with the cattle prod. She appreciated the offer. Her ribs still felt sore though as she thought about it, they were definitely going to bruise but she would not let a hand go to touch them. Not here, in front of everyone. A smile teased at her lips though and she commented, "Might as well just eat all the guards then." With a smirk, she still faced the table but her eyes slid to look at the guards standing behind them. Maybe the thought of being digested by a small girl would be an embarrassing enough death to make that asshole think twice. Though as she watched, the old guard didn't seem to be shaking in his boots but maybe it was just her imagination she couldn't help feel like he looked a little paler. Looking back at the ravenous girl, she just managed to catch sight of her throwing a spoon down her gullet. That got a proper laugh out of her, the laugh causing her to cough slightly as it caused her to remember how sore her ribs were. The little girl was odd but she couldn't help that she actually didn't mind her company. Though with the sight of her eating more of others' meals, Ameliya made sure to take another scoop of the gruel just so her food would not manage to just disappear in front of her. Looking to see it was the scarecrow of a man's meal that had been stolen, she looked curious to see if he was disappointed but only instead found him staring intently at her. Ameliya rose one sharp red eyebrow at him, questioning exactly what he wanted. Though this did not seem to create an answer though as he seemed completely tense and focused. Having no idea what his problem was she instantly thought of two reasons, and jokingly winked at him before snorting and continued eating her food. If he wanted to go at her, she would be ready. Quickly eating up what she had on her tray, Ameliya watched Rue with curiosity as she not only gave the girl with a black hole for a stomach, not only her food but somehow candy she had somehow managed to get in this hellhouse. That was surprisingly kind of her in this place. Her curiosity was only furthered by the sight that lay under Rue's mask. Seeing the demon's complete face for the first time brought along even more questions with it. One was how the hell she managed to keep that candy in her mouth. Though with the sharp teeth and exposed bone gave a surprising feeling of nostalgia. Rue might be an interesting sight, but she was not the first demon she had ever met. Though she might be funnily enough one of the more kind ones... Scraping the remnants of breakfast, Ameliya made quick work of her food. No telling when she was going to lose it after all. Especially, with a woman that not only ate every food in front of her but the spoons as well. With that thought in mind, she cleaned the spoon of the last of the food and then threw her spoon over towards Kailani. Not like she had any use for it anymore. Ameliya's attention was instantly grabbed back as she looked towards the heavily chained sitting down across the table from her. This kind of talk only led to fights and fights she was too used too had more often than not meant the difference between her surviving the day. Maybe it was because today had already started off as a challenging day thanks to the asshole guards, or maybe it was because she too had not had a proper fight in a while but a bold and defiant grin grew across her face. Only the strongest survived and she was going to damn well survive this miserable purgatory. So she stared back at him with eyes that seemed to flash with fiery light as she answered him, "Well I don't know about the strongest, but from my experience, most men do tend to burn up all the same."</s>
<\|description\|>Marina Montressor Known Aliases: Argent, The White Fang Age: 34 Appearance: Subject is currently 5 ft. 3, with brown eyes and short white hair. Noticeably pale with a slight build in this form. When having access to her abilities, Subject stands over six feet tall and is visibly more muscular and athletic, her eyes turning bright yellow while she grows sharper teeth and claws on her hands. Fully transformed, it is believed Subject stands as tall as nine feet, fully resembling a heavily muscled wolf-like being with white fur. Psyche Profile: While it was initially believed that Subject was a mild-mannered individual suffering from a feral alternate self, follow-up examinations have shown this to be untrue. Rather, Subject is believed to be in full control of her mental faculties, her split personality merely a front to avoid legal consequences before now. Underneath the facade largely believed to have been created to help avoid legal repercussions for her actions, subject has proven to be highly intelligent, egotistical, and possessing a great talent for manipulating events to her advantage. Analysis also suggests that despite the feral nature of her powers and an utterly ruthless streak, Subject possesses an enormous amount of self-control and restraint. Indeed, while Subject has no record of violence or behavioral trouble at the Asylum, it seems other inmates already see harassing the Subject as a taboo owing to certain 'accidents'. That being said, it is known that Subject can become temperamental when faced with a slight or potential failure, hyper focusing on revenge against those she considers enemies and even flying into a rage in extreme situations. No such incidents have been definitively shown to occur, though investigation of the aforementioned 'accidents' is ongoing. Background: Marina Montressor was born in Sicily to a family of once-wealthy vintners that had fallen into destitution. Abandoning her family at a young age for unknown reasons, she traveled north to live with a distant relative where she first attended school, showing brilliance from a young age all the way to her Graduation from university, where she received top marks and commendations in several scientific fields. Orchestrating a hostile takeover of a business venture launched by her estranged parents, assumed to be an act of revenge judging by some of her statements, Montressor rebranded the venture as the bio-technical firm LunarTech, which she helped rapidly grow into a powerful corporate entity that held sway over much of Southern Europe, so much so that the German corporate juggernaut Sonnenlicht even approached the young company with a deal to share dominance over the entire European market, and much of the continent itself in turn. There was of course one obstacle to that; Sonnenlicht had once attempted to buy out the company when it was still a small tech firm, and Montressor was far from forgiving them for that slight. And so, what could have been a fruitful partnership turned into a bitter feud that threw both companies into chaos, and while her underlings bemoaned her destructive actions against the German tech giant, Montressor was preparing her secret weapon against her hated enemy. Sonnenlicht was a lot of things, but it was first and foremost a military tech company, supplying advanced arms and weapons to much of the armed forces around the world. Using her own extensive chemical knowledge, Montressor began a project to help break into that market and dethrone her hated rivals, a chemical combat stimulant code-named WARWICK. Pouring millions of dollars and far too much time into the project, WARWICK was the straw that broke the camel's back, and the LunarTech board of directors suspended all of Montressor's projects and began the process to remove her from company leadership. When her long-time partner and friend arrived at her office to smugly inform her of the news, she coolly responded by throwing the man out of the top floor window, followed by her own desk, and proceeded to go on a rampage through the corporate offices, revealing who she had been testing the WARWICK compound on; herself. When the police were called and manage to corner Montressor in her own laboratory, out of a manic desire to ensure her hated enemy would never get her hands on her greatest creation, she dosed herself with the entire stock of WARWICK she had left, completing her transformation into the supervillain Argent. Amazingly, even after the rampage, Montressor's legal team managed to keep her out of jail by "proving" the attacker was a test subject that had gotten out of control, leaving her as the head of the company with all her rivals conveniently "out of the way". This status quo continued even as mounting attacks on other companies, including of course Sonnenlicht, and even superheroes getting in the way of LunarTech's ambitions, were excused by her army of lawyers as mere accidents or the machinations of a murderous alternate personality. Said excuses ran dry though, and after a very public instance of Marina Montressor's transformation into Argent, she was finally dethroned and sent to Thornwood Asylum for what would hopefully be a very, very long time. Skills, Talents and Learning: Genius level intellect, fluent in multiple languages and possessing considerable scientific and technical knowledge. Capable hand to hand fighter. Highly charismatic, skilled at social manipulation. In addition, while her company has been dismantled, it's believed that she is still quite wealthy with a personal net worth in the millions. Power(s) and Capabilities: Due to extensive use of the WARWICK compound, subject possesses the ability to transform at will, partly or fully, into a creature resembling a werewolf. At base level, subject possesses superhuman strength, agility, and durability, as well as heightened senses, sharpened claws and a powerful bite as weapons, and the ability to quickly heal from debilitating injuries. Subject's strength and size increases dramatically as the transformation into full werewolf form progresses; subject in full werewolf form has been known to lift and throw heavy vehicles and tear through reinforced metal with her claws and teeth. Power Limits: While easily able to tank attacks that would be lethal to standard humans, sustained damage can overwhelm her defenses and healing factor to take her out of a fight. In addition, progressing towards her full transformation sacrifices her agility and speed for increased strength and size, still at an above average level but more able to be exploited by a nimble opponent. Known Vulnerabilities: The effects of the WARWICK compound can be hindered by a specially made antidote and suppressed entirely by a constant dosage. In addition, heightened emotional states can cause subject to transform involuntarily, and when fully transformed, the subject risks descending into a rage state, becoming fully feral and losing control of her mental faculties, rendering her dangerous but easy to trap and contain. Motives: Somewhat unclear. Subject expressed a desire to regain the power and success she once held, but it's uncertain how she will manage that, considering the dismantling of her company and public image. Recommended Containment Procedures: Subject is to be fitted with a medical apparatus constantly providing the antidote to the WARWICK compound, until such a time when a complete cure for her condition is found. Device is to be refilled and inspected three times a day, and any attempt to damage or tamper with the device is to be severely punished. Otherwise, subject can be contained like any other baseline human. Notes:Anything else to throw in.</s> <\|message\|>Randolph Ward Randolph perked up a bit at the sound of Marina. She is perhaps the only one Randolph actually cares about beyond what use they could be to him. She is the only one, as far as Randolph is aware at least, with a past somewhat mirroring his own. Randolph remembers his first taste of flesh. A long long long time ago when technological advances was figuring out how to better besiege a castle. The last time he felt human and the first time he was surrounded by death. There was something about the rot, something about himself, some primal instinct that led to that first taste. And with it he was reborn in a sense. The shackles, as he saw it at least, began to fracture at that moment and a Nascent Ghoul was created. For a time, he was confused. The grains and fruits of the land were foul, meat of chicken and cow was…unsatisfying. He grew sickly and malnourished. The only thing that nourished him was human flesh, or at least of anything sufficiently humanoid as he would later learn. Slowly he would learn to reassociate what was food and what was not, shattering his former morals and sensibilities. It was a long and difficult road to where he is now, but thankfully he had another Ghoul to mentor and guide him through the process. In Marina, Randolph sees someone who has taken the first steps on a journey to transcend her human limitations. Someone who still bears shackles, some metaphorical, but at least one literal shackle with that cruel device attached to her. In Randolph's mind, it is a vile device that shackles her from her true self much like Randolph was once shackled by his humanity. Randolph decided, when finding about Marina and her…condition, that he will assist her in realizing her true self. To have her shackles rendered literally and metaphorically. Like how Randolph was once guided, he will guide her through her path to the best of his ability. It is the responsibility of the old to teach the young after all. Though it already has paid some dividends, he had an excuse to tear a snack out of some guy that was harassing her. Claiming he was 'stopping a fight before it starts' along with restraining from killing the guy unlike what other inmates would do gave just enough plausible deniability that he did not get in much trouble too. "I've had many names over my life, only some of them because I changed my identity. Beats being called something vague like 'Monster' or 'What-the-fuck-is-that'" "Seems like a decent plan, but I'm not convinced." Randolph announced. "I will outlast this prison, that much is certain to me. Maybe if your… Riot bears fruit I will provide assistance, but if it fizzles out then I would rather not risk retribution. If I must suffer this prison, I would like to keep what modicum of comfort I have." A slight falsehood. Randolph had a different plan in mind. He could use the opportunity to try and slink away on his own. Or at least in a much smaller group. He remembers seeing, while pacing around parts of the facility a section of wall that was damaged but never properly fixed. Randolph reasons he can, with some time, break enough of the wall to burrow a tunnel through the Earth. The riot, even if a failure, seems likely to keep the guards busy enough and for long enough to allow for his own escape. If Abigail's plan does not work, his might. and if his does not pan out, Abby's might. If neither works, Randolph might be able to avoid punishment, or at least what punishment is given for starting a riot. In his experience, Randolph finds it best to have plans with plans. '…Though I should invite Marina. It would give me a chance to impart some advice…' Randolph thought. Plus, it would help to have someone stronger, least when she adopts her more beastly guise. He will need to be discreet though, if everyone finds out and wants to join his plan, the Riot will be less of a distraction. Not to mention how cramped the tunnel will get. "Hey Marina… meet me outside my cell when the 'distraction' starts. I need to tell you something…" Randolph whispered to her, before he turned to leave the cafeteria. He would linger around a bit longer in case any relevant details would arise.</s> <\|message\|>Ameliya Pyrrhus Ameliya had only half-listened to Alfred talk about some all-powerful sorcerers. In her mind, if they had died because of some simple ice spikes then they really couldn't have been that powerful. They sounded like they would have also died from a well-aimed incendiary bullet and a little bit of fire. The thoughts were quickly thrown to the side though as she whirled around to face the odd man who had just appeared near them. Though when she saw a guard carry over the prized possession of actual food towards the ice lover, she couldn't help but scoff. "Who did you sell yourself to get such a luxury?" She said with a derisive laugh. She wasn't exactly sure what he had done to be able to get a preferred dish around here, playing snitch or otherwise. All she knew was she was not going to have any hand of it. Ameliya was immediately fascinated by the punk rocker girl's sudden new knowledge of keycodes and supposed benefactors, as well as her quickly thrown-together plan. Sure she wasn't sure if any of it was going to work but Ameliya had been looking for an opening of any kind and this seemed to be one. After all, a death in the middle of a firey battle was much preferred than rotting away in another cage. Though with that in mind, she would really rather not die anytime soon. Her eyes sharply looked over to Alfred, were those noodles in trade for knowledge? Was he going to be a problem? Her fiery red eyes trailed over him as she tried to read any sign of tenseness or possible excitement that a little tattletale might experience. Turning back to Abby, Ameliya kept in her mind that Alfred was definitely going to be one to keep an eye on, and if it came to it, eliminated. Though as the words about a distraction and something flammable were said, Ameiliya's eyes danced with familiar fire and a wide grin grew over her face. "Bring me something more than this stupid jumpsuit to burn, and this place will be a war zone as soon as I can help it."</s>	<\|message\|>Marina Montressor "Monty doesn't sound as good as your end name. Montressor! It's much more fun!" Marina snorted before taking another bite of her apple. For a monstrous insatiable creature that desired to consume everything in her path, she was really a charming little thing. Maybe it was because, in a surreal sort of way, she saw a bit of herself in this strange alien, a sort of natural curiosity and drive that she admired. Of course Randolph would have probably said that it was also because they were both powerful beings forced into weak human forms by their inferiors or something to that effect, which was also fairly accurate. Sure she was technically human, but...well, there was probably a reason why Marina found it more engaging to interact with the voracious alien and the corpse-like monster then, say, the perfectly normal young woman who could otherwise absorb radiation. Speaking of which... "How do you guys feel about blowing this pop stand?" Atom Bomb whispered among the gathered inmates. Marina certainly was, so she leaned in slightly as the plan was fervently discussed, with the guards none the wiser. "This sounds like a stupid plan," Min-Ji interjected mid-conversation. "I would say ambitious," Marina corrected her, spinning the core of the apple she finished on the table. "In any such case, I'd be more then happy to take my leave of this wretched little hive. I would of course need some help getting this...thing off of me." She jerked a thumb towards her back. "But if that can be done, then I doubt we'll have much trouble with the guards." Listening carefully in on the rest of the plan and the players involved, she caught sight of Randolph making his leave. "Hey Marina… meet me outside my cell when the 'distraction' starts. I need to tell you something…" he whispered to her. Raising an eyebrow, she nevertheless gave a curt nod as Randolph left. She couldn't help but wonder what exactly he had planned...</s>
<\|description\|>Julia Kray Known Aliases: The Black Death Age: 28 Appearance: Julia stands at 5"6 and 125lbs with a 'healthy' build and a now pallid complexion made all the worse by her constantly haunted eyes and ever-growing crow's feet, brought on by a lack of restful nights. Her hair is just past shoulder length, light chestnut and well-maintained, as cleanliness and grooming are now sanctuaries that Julia enjoys as calming activities to break up the monotony of cell life. Her eyes are brown and dull, though once may have been slightly more vibrant and bright. Psyche Profile: Julia is a generally well-behaved inmate who keeps her head down and never makes any trouble. She never tries to leave her cell without her gloves and every time she is prompted to, she puts them on without complaint.The one avenue where she might possibly cause trouble is her desperation to not seem like a frail doormat the other inmates can push around as a weak link. She is often seeking comfort by slipping back into old routines, so treats the wardens and guards more as middle-management team leaders than as enemies or authority figures. Going along with them is just…part of the job. Background: It's unknown how Julia Kray got her powers. Even Julia Kray can't remember the night clearly. She recalls brief flashes of holding a glowing blue orb in her hands, and the sensation of burning that she felt from her pals and fingertips, but cannot remember what the Orb was, why she had grabbed it, or what happened next. Her next memory was of waking up in a field several miles out from the City. Julia lived in Glasgow, Scotland, and worked in an office answering phones all day. Her life wasn't exciting. She lived in a third floor apartment several train stops away from her work, and commuted every day. She was single, had no pets, didn't know her neighbors, and only saw her parents once every few months. And she had no intention of changing a thing. She doesn't remember how it happened. Whether she grabbed, was grabbed, or simply brushed against them. She remembered the strange man dying in front of her as visible black streaks were running up his veins from the spot their hands had touched, spreading to his entire body, and he collapsed in spasms and convulsions. She remembered the dreams of onlookers, They fled in terror. And so did she. Some people tried to stop her, to grab her. she snatched their hands away, or shoved them. She didn't look back. She just wanted to get somewhere that wasn't there. It was as if she was running from herself too. In her apartment the next day, she saw her terrified face everywhere, plastered on every news channel and paper. 'The Black Death', they were calling her. A terrorist. A murderer. A Supervillain. Eleven people, she'd killed that day. She went to the bathroom and threw up. The police came to her house and she was so scared, so terrified of facing down the barrels of their pistols. Every shout and command barked and screamed at her, caused her to flinch and her eyes to twitch. She lunged at them, hands outstretched, knowing that she was killing them. Then she ran again. It was famous and beloved British Superhero The Guardian who finally found her, crumpled under a tree in the woods. She warned him not to come. She warned him to stay away from her. But he didn't listen. She turned herself in that day. Still holding back tears. She just wanted to be somewhere quiet and safe now, where the pain might stop. She didn't care if that was prison. Julia Kray, The Black Death, is one of the most hated and reviled figures in British history, infamous the world over, for being the Supervillain who killed The Guardian. Skills, Talents and Learning: Julie has good conversational and diplomatic skills on account of her customer-facing job and ordinary social life. Mercenaries, murderers, aliens and mysterious beings may be far more skilled and knowledgeable than Julia, but could they fit seamlessly into society without standing out? She can also cook pretty well. Power(s) and Capabilities: The palms and fingertips of Julia's hands will spread a fast-acting, highly potent toxin through the bloodstream/capillary system of any living thing that she touches within seconds. And unless the recipient is immune to poisons or toxins, or can sever the infected flesh fast enough, that will mean death. Julia doesn't even know whether or not this power will work on her, and is scared to find out, so never touches her own body with her bare hands Power Limits: Besides Julia's own reluctance to leave her hands uncovered for very long, let alone touch others, means that she's in-effect limiting herself. Her power is also reliant on touch and Julia herself is untrained giving it a very poor range and making it easy for skilled individuals to avoid if the need arose, or even attack her from a distance, where she would be at their mercy. Known Vulnerabilities: Julia's hands are almost constantly covered, whether by her own volition or by her secure cuff-gloves, so she is rarely a threat to anybody while an inmate at the prison. Coupled with that, she is an ordinary human. A Civilian, in fact. Not even so much as a self-defence class under her belt. Getting stabbed with a ball-point pen to the shoulder would put her in the infirmary. Motives: Julia doesn't have any goals as much as she has dreams. There's no finish line in sight but she has a carrot on a stick to keep her running and that carrot is the dream that one day she can return to a normal life of relative anonymity. Maybe to even have a family and a circle of friends one day. Recommended Containment Procedures: She is not allowed to be interacted with, given food, or her door to be opened unless she has put on special gloves that lock around her wrists and prevent her hands from coming in direct contact with anything.</s> <\|message\|>Alfred Gunther Alfred Gunther/The Frostbite Never One... Without the Other As soon as Kailani went towards the direction of the cell blocks that held Arc Dragon and the rest of their still imprisoned conspirators, Frostbite jumped off from the massive alien's back. He stepped down into a floor that was absolutely filled with pools of blood and pieces of gore; remnants of the guards and perhaps a few unlucky inmates that were standing in the way of the tank sized monstrosity's delighted rampage. Of course, Frostbite didn't like the floor this way. It was messy, chaotic, and slippery; a far cry from the highly organized nature of Alfred's mind, which naturally detested it when the environment was just out of order. But this was a prison escape. An escape from one of the most secure facilities in this side of the world, no less, so it would take much more chaos and destruction to actually get up there and see the sky once again... Frostbite flapped its wings, sending another barrage of ice spikes towards the cavalcade of retreating guards that were currently pulling back towards the elevators. Some got stabbed by incoming projectiles, others were luckily behind riot shields that dented the attack, and others still held their ground and opened fire. It did little, of course, though Frostbite felt his form slowly getting chipped away by the incoming bullets. He was less durable than Kailaniz tough he felt no pain, a side effect of having no biological nervous system to begin with once transformed into that state. And so he decided to fly forward and breathed out conical blasts of freezing wind, aiming to clear the way to the elevator for the rest of them once Min-Ji and the others had been freed from their internment.</s> <\|message\|>Körbl Meier @TheRedWatcher @twave @Blazion @Silver Carrot @Perse @KaelRavenheart Körbl Meier "Well, don't regret it." Körbl said before slamming his foot directly into Iris chest without any hesitation. @Klumsykrow357 The impact alone was enough to stop a car moving a 60 km/s dead in its tracks, and all of that was sent straight into her. Körbl felt that was enough, it wasn't lethal enough to drop most of the lesser strength heroes and incapacitate the normal ones. If she lived, fine, if she didn't, well, it's not his problem. That done, Körbl turned and looked at the remaining preceeding as some of them are splitting to get more prisoners free while the elevator area remained clear. Körbl turned to Abigail, and tilted his head to where Kailani and some of the prisoners are heading towards. "You want to wait for them or do we assist them? We don't have much time though having more firepower helps." It was the same to Körbl anyways, it'll be a tight frame but so long they don't put too much pressure, the elevators will keep running to send more guards down. The moment they reached the elevators however, it'll be placed under control or locked down but at that point, they can probably afford to dig upwards with the monster alien before worrying about being lunch.</s>	<\|message\|>Julia Kray The tear gas that had filled the cafeteria had a severe effect on Julia, who was essentially a civilian. She had retreated to underneath one of the tables, and was a hacking, coughing mess, rubbing at and trying to shield her streaming, stinging eyes. She couldn't 'tough this out'. This was an awful experience. This whole thing had been a mistake. She couldn't perform a breakout! She wasn't cut from the same cloth as all these hardened criminals around her, who could go toe-to-toe with superpowered vigilantes. Tear gas was nothing to them. She had been a fool for thinking there was anything she could have done to help them, as opposed to them needing to baby her if she hid behind them all the way up. The gas was suddenly starting to clear, and Julia suddenly found it easier to breathe, and to see. She tentatively barely opened one eye, to see that Kai, in her true monstrous form, was eating the smoking canisters. The creature then approached her and licked her face. Julia have her weak, still-pained yet warm smile, and patted her on the shoulder in gratitude, not yet recovered enough for a verbal thanks but hoping her sentiment was carried across. As she stayed seated underneath the table, waiting for the air to clear and her face to recover, she could hear the sounds of combat moving from the cafeteria to the corridor and the prison cells. There was much more gunfire and screaming than before, and Julia was absolutely not going to go and become a liability, or collateral, but getting involved in that chaos, especially not without her full faculties. "Hey! Is anyone in here?" shouted a male voice, as a pair of guards were searching through the mist of the tear gas. Julia got to her feet, and raised her hand to peer through the haze to see them, and they saw her. They approached, with guns aimed at her. "Don't move! Identify yourself!" "Julia Kray! Don't shoot me, I was just eating my lunch." "Kray? Put your hands up! Let me see your gloves!" The guards would then see her comply, raising both her hands to show that she was still wearing her gloves. They seemed to relax a little as they now comfortably approached her. The closest one took both her hands and reached for his manual metal cuffs. "Alright. We'll get you back to your cell nice and easy now." Back to her cell. They were going to take her back to her cell. While the rest escaped, she alone would remain a captive. Alone. Not even a hope of any human company, let alone friends. Nobody but the guards. She couldn't do that! She won't! But the moment that guard cuffs her, it's all over! Even Julia was startled by the gunshot. Before she'd truly managed to register what she was doing, she had taken the handgun from where she had tucked it in her waistline, and she had shot the guard in the stomach. He was backing up, still stunned. The other guard reached for his own gun. Julia whipped round and fired three bullets into his upper chest, killing him. The first guard was reaching for his own weapon. She shot him in the head. She couldn't believe she'd just killed them. She felt sick. But she forced herself not to dwell on it. She had truly crossed the line now. If she stopped, or let her adrenaline wear off and succumb to the mental collapse, she would get shot. She had to keep moving forward. Smoking gun still in hand, she ran towards the cells, and beyond them, the elevators.</s>
<\|description\|>Hauta Kanata Known Aliases: The Storm Age: 436 Appearance: Kanata has a male and female form both of which resemble each other to a degree both have black hair that comes down past their waist. A trait from their Yokai form , for which the male has leather like skin coming down from the top of his shoulder and down along his arms with eyes that glow bright when around others similar to his kind. The female form has a black leather like skin effect over one eye and its pupil red. They have olive skin and are around 5'8 in female form and 6 feet in male form. The proportions of his body change depending on a few key points, one of which is his choice. Psyche Profile: Usually free flowing and calm but can turn violent in the blink of an eye similar to that of the calm winds interrupted by a torrent hurricane. He Has a fear of losing his mind and rampaging so tends to hold back unless necessary. He tends to be more light hearted and drinks on occasion which he uses to forget his troubled past that follows him. Background: During the Edo period the wind blew and lightning crackled as two mongol fleets attempted to invade japan. The storm crushed the encroaching army as a baby lay in his mothers lap, his father standing next to her as he looked out at the now calm and beautiful ocean. He says to his wife one day you will inherit this power my son but for now I must leave the heavens have stirred and I must take my place during the chaos. The man then faces the dawn as the wind picks up around him leaving his wife and child on the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean. That was the day Kanata was born. Skills, Talents and Learning: Has unmatched skill in close combat with his katana. He learns quickly and adapts due to his training as a samurai for the shogun. Power(s) and Capabilities: The ability to shift his body and control the wind around him his body shifts his body without pain into a new form and uses this as a self defense mechanism as injured body parts take from his undamaged spots. His wind abilities augment his speed and reaction times allowing for maneuvers otherwise unable to be done and can glide and jump for several stories . Power Limits and Vulnerabilities: access use of his shapeshifting to heal can cause him to become smaller and weaker in stature reverting to a child. And when pushed to the brink of death his Yokai instinct takes over to protect himself from the dangers which does not distinguish between friend or foe. needs semi constrictive clothing to use his powers effectively as he can not shapeshift past his current max space so if he's a younger version of himself put him into a bodysuit and he can't revert to an adult. Motives: Wants to escape and free himself from the shackles of his past. Oh yeah his wife wants to kill him. Recommended Containment Procedures: keep his sword away from him and use shinto preist blessed wrappings to contain his yokai powers negating his ability to shift and with his arms constrained he can only sense movements in the wind not use it as he doesnt have full control over his abilites yet</s> <\|message\|>Alfred Gunther Alfred Gunther/The Frostbite Never One... Without the Other As soon as Kailai began to shove the barricade of riot shields and guards towards the hallway with her usual relish of consumption and destruction, Frostbite swooped on from the overhanging lampshades, screeching in an animalistic manner. A gust of cold wind heralded its approach, wings stretched out on a full spread and a spherical winter storm of collecting around its icy mouth. The Cryophoenix's incoming strike evoked images of dive bombers, its screeching seemingly mimicking the demoralizing whistle of a Stuka dive bomber. That probably didn't do much by itself, as nothing was more terrifying than a giant, tank sized alien monstrosity plowing through one's coworkers as if they were chicken nuggets in a KFC deal bucket. Still, the screech first came like thunder before the actual lightning, then the freezing began. Frostbite attacked the guards to the left and right of Kailani, blasting them at regular intervals with flashfreeze breaths. One might have thought that there was a dragon spitting out fire, except that it was a phoenix spitting out ice and freezing wind. Several guards died instantly, every bit of warmth of body in their bodies sucked away by the vengeful winter spirit before it peeled away to avoid hitting a wall or some other obstacle. A few were frozen so thoroughly, they broke and shattered into a dozen or so pieces whenever someone exerted a bit of force on them. Here, though, there was no shortage of force. Frostbite had heard the fire woman being a little exasperated, and so moved accordingly. Even then, it didn't truly like that they are wasting quite the amount of lives in this escape... but such is the price of vengeance, isn't it?</s> <\|message\|>Randolph Ward Ghouls are peculiar creatures. With a little knowledge and observation one can surmise they burrow to avoid the sun, because that is where their prey resides, and because that will decrease the chance that they cross paths with living humans. But this has made them at home within the Earth. Ghouls can maneuver this barrier like a fish can maneuver in water. Sure, dirt provides more resistance than air but Ghouls have developed ways to burrow efficiently through instinct and evolution. Evolution gave them the tools they needed to 'swim' through the earth, fine muscle manipulation to easily break up loose dirt, claws and the strength to shatter rocks, minerals, ice, and other such things. There are few things that can stop a Ghoul from burrowing to where they want to go, not even dimensional barriers in the case of the Abyssal Paths. In addition, their senses are well adapted for digging. Humans might not be able to tell where a corpse was buried, but a Ghoul can sense it from miles away, even when underground. Living things produce a more subtle scent, but they can still smell the worry and urgency of guards running through hallways. Not only that but their sense of touch is perfectly suited for detecting the subtle vibrations in the earth, from one guard lagging behind for example. The trap has been set. Randolph lies in wait. Listening to the faint echo of boots, feeling the faint rumble of footsteps. Step by step, moment by moment. Getting closer. And closer. Until… Seven guards were barreling through the hall, worry on their minds, but also a duty. Locked underground with angry superpowered prisoners, the future looked grim but they were also afraid of what would happen if they shirked their duties. Their attention, focused ahead, was disrupted when a scream came from behind. Pameliya is gone, and in her place is a hole. Pameliya Erse was running with her comrades in arms when the ground disappeared beneath her. She did not have enough time to recognize her new situation before she felt a sudden stop and something applying pressure around her torso. She did get enough time to let out a piercing scream and to decide if it was better to have just plunged to her death. The other guards, already on edge, slowly approached the man-sized hole in the ground. The darkness barely illuminated by the lights in the hallway or their own flashlights. They exchanged nervous looks amongst each other for a few moments before they heard a scream and a loud crunch. With a little more urgency, they approached the opening and peered down with their flashlights, trying to find the source. "Pam…you….you okay down there?" One guard said nervously, not seeing anything. "There's something down there, something reflective" Another said, noticing something glinting. "What is that?" A third asked to no one in particular. Feeling safety in number, and curious of whatever was down there, the guards gathered around the opening, peering down while trying to wrack their minds at what they are seeing. "Hey guys, need a hand? Randolph said, brandishing a partially devoured human arm. The guards were to distracted to notice him emerge from the ground behind them. The guards turned to see Randolph climbing out of another path he dug when they were not looking. The sight was horrifying. The Ghoul towered over them wearing nothing to protect himself but an aura of intimidation and fear. His teeth were coated a blood red, as well as a large portion of the front of his body. Strings of flesh dangled from his mouth, trapped in between his dagger like teeth. He bore a devilish smile that betrayed his intentions. "Actually, I guess I need a hand. Yours." The guards had little time to act before Randolph did. The others may have flashier moves with formation of frost or fire. Manipulation of electricity in the air or in electronics. Or something else entirely. But all Randolph had was brute force and a keen intellect. He is willing to suffer the humans while Randolph is still within this prison, even aid them as they have aided him. But the humans in front of him are not part of the plan, and he grew tired of them. He has shown his shrewdness, but now was the time to show his strength. Randolph tore through flesh and bone like the paper and cardboard of a pinata, rewarded with blood, then screams, then silence, instead of candy. Randolph has been bottling his emotions within him for decades, while normally hidden underneath a guise of calm, he tapped into fury and hatred that was squirrelled away. He focused his rage onto one guard at a time, beating them well past a pulp, ripping them to shreds, before turning his attention onto the next. The humans tried to fight back, but they lacked the tools and courage, only inflicting pain which roused Randolph's wrath even further. It only took a few minutes to cake the hallway in blood and viscera. For flesh to be torn and scattered, their remains would need to be scooped off the walls. Only Randolph was left standing, wearing nothing but a fresh coat of blood paint and a few bits of flesh caked in his fur, teeth, and claws. Surrounded by death, Randolph began to calm down. Slowly, he felt the pain increasing in intensity as instinct compelled him to feast and recover from his injuries. Like a starving wolf, he ferociously tore into what flesh remained, consuming as much as he could to soothe the hunger and dull the pain. Normally a bit of a gourmand, Randolph savors the flavor and memories of the meat. But not this time, he is famished and agitated. He does not care to maintain his usual sophisticated behavior, right now he only cares to feast. The feast, however, would not last, after devouring what he could he still hungered. But that is fine, he still needs to break out, and there are countless more to feast on. Randolph ventured back into the earth, no reason to stalk the halls when he can be in a more comfortable environment. Burrowing once more, he navigated the 'outside' of the structure looking for prey. Perhaps he can rescue one of the others from some guards or other inmates, better for them to be indebted to him than the other way around.</s>	<\|message\|>Hauta Kanata Throughout the halls of the prison screams can be heard from the current riot. Tending to stay out of any confrontation that would ensue he had returned to his cell in which he began his daily mediation. As the noise erupting throughout the halls became louder and much closer it began to affect his ability to remain calm. His door swings open to an out of breath guard. Turning toward the currently meditating male sitting on the ground the guard approached cautiously the guard hadn't seen many inmates like this one calm unaware of the events outside in his mind this would be an easy target to get rid of as he had planned to use the cell as a place to hide until the events calmed down. After closing the door he grabs a knife from his hip and brings it up swinging downward aimed at the sitting subject's neck. Feeling the air around him move in a rushed feeling he knew in that instant the guard aimed to kill him why he doesn't know; nor does he care, he simply wished to be left alone to his own devices, but upon this man's insurrection he acts turning in a blinding speed as the knife misses its target instead cutting the ties that bind the male. As the wrapping fall a sudden gust of wind pushes the guard toward the door the knife launched into the air falls as if being manipulated falls swiftly into the hand of the man now free of his constraints he lunges forward in one swift motion cutting the throat of the guard and pushing him out of the way of the door. "Damn it", he says in a low voice at the now lifeless guard.`` Had you just sat there in the corner i would not have had to kill you" looking back at his now mess filled room, "guess i have to find a new meditation spot". He takes any keys or keycards that he finds on the body and opening the door he walks out taking note of his surrounding a blood trail nearby leading to the sounds of crunching, he instead chooses the opposite path best left to my own devices it be faster he thinks to himself he begins to move. Swiftly and silently he heads towards where he believes his weapon would be the personal property room reading the wind and using the slight changes in the air to detect movement he avoids most detection. Upon reaching the cafeteria he notices seven people still inside with all the commotion he had assumed it to be empty. Looking for a way to pass discreetly around noticing the knocked out guards that are in the direction he is heading. He instead of hiding decides to step out and introduce himself. "Hello, My name is Hauta mind if I join in on the festivities" in a polite manner with his hands up to show he means to harm.</s>
<\|description\|>Hauta Kanata Known Aliases: The Storm Age: 436 Appearance: Kanata has a male and female form both of which resemble each other to a degree both have black hair that comes down past their waist. A trait from their Yokai form , for which the male has leather like skin coming down from the top of his shoulder and down along his arms with eyes that glow bright when around others similar to his kind. The female form has a black leather like skin effect over one eye and its pupil red. They have olive skin and are around 5'8 in female form and 6 feet in male form. The proportions of his body change depending on a few key points, one of which is his choice. Psyche Profile: Usually free flowing and calm but can turn violent in the blink of an eye similar to that of the calm winds interrupted by a torrent hurricane. He Has a fear of losing his mind and rampaging so tends to hold back unless necessary. He tends to be more light hearted and drinks on occasion which he uses to forget his troubled past that follows him. Background: During the Edo period the wind blew and lightning crackled as two mongol fleets attempted to invade japan. The storm crushed the encroaching army as a baby lay in his mothers lap, his father standing next to her as he looked out at the now calm and beautiful ocean. He says to his wife one day you will inherit this power my son but for now I must leave the heavens have stirred and I must take my place during the chaos. The man then faces the dawn as the wind picks up around him leaving his wife and child on the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean. That was the day Kanata was born. Skills, Talents and Learning: Has unmatched skill in close combat with his katana. He learns quickly and adapts due to his training as a samurai for the shogun. Power(s) and Capabilities: The ability to shift his body and control the wind around him his body shifts his body without pain into a new form and uses this as a self defense mechanism as injured body parts take from his undamaged spots. His wind abilities augment his speed and reaction times allowing for maneuvers otherwise unable to be done and can glide and jump for several stories . Power Limits and Vulnerabilities: access use of his shapeshifting to heal can cause him to become smaller and weaker in stature reverting to a child. And when pushed to the brink of death his Yokai instinct takes over to protect himself from the dangers which does not distinguish between friend or foe. needs semi constrictive clothing to use his powers effectively as he can not shapeshift past his current max space so if he's a younger version of himself put him into a bodysuit and he can't revert to an adult. Motives: Wants to escape and free himself from the shackles of his past. Oh yeah his wife wants to kill him. Recommended Containment Procedures: keep his sword away from him and use shinto preist blessed wrappings to contain his yokai powers negating his ability to shift and with his arms constrained he can only sense movements in the wind not use it as he doesnt have full control over his abilites yet</s> <\|message\|>Körbl Meier @TheRedWatcher @Klumsykrow357 @Perse @KaelRavenheart @SrslyAnArtist@The Man Emperor@Blazion @SrslyAnArtist Hmph. Seeing multiple people getting into the lift and taking their time, it was like seeing an anthive being open forcefully by a shovel. So many inmates, prisoners, and guards. Fighting desperately for their freedom. That kind of raw fight, where everything is on the line. It never gets tiring to see it. Then as Abby finally went inside and he joining her side, they were joined by others as the level that they're on will finally be traversed. Still, who knows how many levels are there left? Then someone apparently dropped right on top of their lift, one that had him instantly looked up and readied to fight but there was no hostile intent. Opening itself and with someone armed to the teeth as they deposited many weapons, Körbl eyes looked and sighted a sword. "Can I have one of those?"Körbl pointed to a Katana. It was no messer and he had never really utilized these before but it was better than nothing.</s> <\|message\|>Alfred Gunther Alfred Gunther/The Frostbite Never One... Without the Other Frostbite quickly flew in from the hallway, his path trailing with a cold aftermath of frost and snow. The Phoenix's eyes didn't blink at the grisly sights to both his left and right; perhaps this is because he was a creature of such primordial age, existing since before civilization had even risen in the earliest cradles of humanity. Short lived human lives were just numbers to it by now, the comprehension of the Frostbite and its brethren far beyond the ken of mere mortals. However, with those it chooses, to the men and women that he and the rest of the kind dare bind themselves to, they achieve an eternal mutual understanding, an intertwining of thoughts and emotions so deep that they could be said to be one being with two minds. The rest of those that stood in the way of the Frost Phoenix's freedom, however, will be made into history, though their names will be forgotten in the next centuries. "Before you ask, no, I'm not reverting. Not yet," Frostbite simply said as he folded his cold wings closer to his icy body the same way any other bird would. "Now where are the rest? If a league of superheroes come here before we can scatter into the four winds of the Earth, we're screwed."</s> <\|message\|>Ameliya Pyrrhus Mentioning: @Eviledd1984@ZephyrHope Striding quickly down the corridor, Ameliya only paid half attention as she saw the new guy make his way in front of her. He seemed to be in a rush but she couldn't blame him, she wanted to get in the elevator and see this hell hole in the background as fast as possible. Stomping into the elevator and taking a spot close to the back, Ameliya turned around to look around at the rest of the incoming group. "Get in quick or we are leaving you behind," She shouted out to the rest of the inmates. The younger women seemed to have other ideas though and held open the elevator waiting for everyone and anyone, leaving Ameliya staring at her unbelievably. Did she not understand what they were facing? A scowl crossed her face but instead of saying anything, she leaned against the elevator's wall, making it sizzle and melt slightly under her burning hot weight. Tsk The longer they were here the more likely they were going to get caught and if what they had experienced before was considered the norm, she really didn't want to know what their harsh punishment would be. Each second longer she watched the other members leisurely make their way into the elevator she found herself really wishing she knew where the stairs were. If they didn't all get their asses in here in the next minute, she was going to make the decision for Abby and get the old rust bucket of an elevator moving. That was about when someone jumped back down from the roof of the elevator and Ameliya was startled to stand back on her feet expecting another fight. Though she was surprised to find not only it was the guy who had gone in front of them, so that's where he went, but he also hands handfuls of ... gifts? Wait, wasn't that her sniper rifle? How the hell did he know the insignificant-looking guitar case would hold something helpful? and ... how did he know it was one of theirs? Ameliya looked at the man suspiciously for a moment before leaning over and with a hand no longer on flame, picking up the case. Her eyes never left him as she stared at him, waiting to see if this was all some kind of trick. Though standing back up with her sniper bag in her hand, Ameliya stood there bewildered. "...Thank you?" Ameliya said uncertainly, the words on her tongue feeling so foreign.</s> <\|message\|>Julia Kray Julia Kray --- --- @The Man Emperor@Restalaan@Eviledd1984@TheRedWatcher@Klumsykrow357@KaelRavenheart@SrslyAnArtist@Blazion@ZephyrHope Most of the fighting in the corridor had subsided as Julia raced to the elevator, smoking gun in gloved hand. Her eyes were still streaming from the tear gas that she had cowardly chosen to stew in while the others were either unaffected or had moved on to the corridor. The floor was slick with blood, though, and Julia slipped, lost her balance and fell hard, knocking the wind out of her. The gun clattered from her grasp and slid away out of reach. Forget the gun. Julia shakily got back to her feet and ran, slower and more careful this time, though that was making her take longer to reach the elevator most of the other had already reached. She was finally almost there, when she was tackled by a guard in full riot gear, who was already grasping at her arms to try to restrain her. Powered by nothing but adrenaline and fear, she thrashed at first, and let out a shrill, gut-wrenchingly desperate "NO!!" Again, before her rational mind could comprehend the weight of her actions, she acted instincually on self-preservation. Just like the police, and just like the guards. She shook off the glove on her right hand, and then grabbed the exposed skin of the guard's face, and squeezed. That was no accident. That was intent to kill. She desperately crawled to the elevator, too panicked to get up, and made her way inside. Only then did she get back to her feet, and look round at the guard. The veins in his face had all turned black, as had his eyes. He was choking in panic and agony as the poison spread rapidly throughout his body. He was still alive and convulsing when he fell to the ground, the excruciating pain and terror still showing in his facial expression. Julia looked away. She had turned pale, and her breathing was deep and labored. Her eyes were defocused and in shock. Her now bare right hand was being subconsciously covered and shielded by her still-gloved left hand. She didn't look at anyone. She didn't say anything.</s> <\|message\|>Lionel Gift Lionel Gift Lionel's small blonde eyebrow popped up once again as Mr. Q. informed him of the goings on in the other parts of the prison. His cell wing was supplied with its own generator and security systems, so any disruption to the main system would not affect his own circumstances. He shook his head in dismay. Genius went truly unappreciated in a place like this. No one could ever wait to execute a well thought out plan. It always ended up in brute force and a riot. So uncivilized. Still, he couldn't really complain. After all, if all went according to plan he would be able to finally be free of this accursed cell so that he could resume his good work. "I suppose it is exciting, though I must say, if they are this unruly when they are all focused on a single goal, how do you expect to keep them in line once they are free?" Lionel's face bore a slightly condescending smirk as he questioned the dark figure, but it vanished from his small lips as the man began asking questions about his abilities and their origins. "Curious about me are you? While I can understand your fascination, surely you don't believe me so foolish as to divulge potentially sensitive information on the nature of my capabilities so soon after we've only just met?" He pulled his hat from his head and clutched it tightly to his small chest, suddenly wringing it nervously as his eyes opened up into wide, fearful innocence and his voice trembled as he said "Please sir, I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. I just want to find my mommy and daddy. Can you help me?" He dropped the facade with a childlike giggle and placed his hat back atop his head, smirking at the imposing figure once more. "I'm suprised a man of your...capabilities doesn't already know the information you seek. Forgive me, but I do not think my debt to you warrants disclosure of my past. At least not yet. After all, I know nothing of your own past, now do I? So why should I offer that which is unlikely to be reciprocated. Quid pro quo, Mr. Q. But not yet. For now, I believe you have a riot to direct and I must practice my speech for whichever of your little pawns is the one to release me."</s>	<\|message\|>Hauta Kanata Looking at the inmates in the elevator startled at his entrance "I believe this is yours red" he said looking down to Ameliya handing her the sniper rifle. After receiving her thanks he paused then responded "you owe me a date after we get out of this Juliet" winking to her. Turning to the man who asked for his sword he looked at him interesting at first glance he immediately recognized a fellow swordsman though the way his muscles were built signified he trained with a different weapon than a katana. "Sorry kid this blade can only be used by me maybe if we get out of this I can forge you a new sword one more fit to your style". Turning to the rest of the people in the elevator "apologies I didn't bring gifts for everyone" .</s>
<\|description\|>Janet Bridgerson Known Aliases: Prof. Perfection Age: 107 Appearance: A severed head stuck inside of a half-spherical jar, attached to a black pedestal. Her face is pale and her hair is white; she looks roughly middle aged despite her actual age, and her eyes are narrow and dark. Most of her face is covered by a large respiration device that is hooked into the pedestal itself, and it's suspended in some kind of fluid. Her pedestal has simple white ridges running down it, wheels hidden underneath, and is otherwise featureless to the outside observer. Psyche Profile: Janet displays very little outward emotion, and while she does possess the capability for emotional response, testing has revealed it as being very stunted. She seems to hold no regard for life other than her own, and regards most things around her with cold spite. She does feel camaraderie in some cases, mostly with those she has attempted to lead on failed escape attempts over the years, but she rarely continues those relationships past the point of them being useful. She has made few request for accommodations despite the extreme nature of her confinement, largely revolving around being allowed brief excursions outdoors (largely denied) and reading material (approved in most cases). Displays obvious narcissism, but generally doesn't speak often. Background: In the course of the United States' involvement in WW2, a novel life support project was given a green light - simple extensions of the iron lung to work as replacement organs in the case of serious trauma, with the hopes that more elegant solutions could be devised when the war was over. Thanks to Dr. Bridgerson and people like her, though, the scope of the project was greatly expanded - they found simplistic-yet-effective methods of allowing a soldier's remaining nervous system to control prosthetics. The obvious applications were going to revolutionize medicine if they could be refined, but the D.o.W. could imagine the incredible combat applications. The Nazi "Eisenmänner" program, in reality, would never reach mass-production thanks to Allied super-agent efforts, but the specter of German fighting machines hung over the heads of Allied strategy-makers. Unfortunately, towards the end of the war - April 3rd, 1945, a little more than a month before Germany would surrender - with the project continuing briskly, it was brought to a halt by an equipment explosion that gravely wounded Dr. Bridgerson. The only option available to paramedics, aided by her research team, was to put her into one of the functioning early iron lung-like prosthetics. It'd remove almost all of her mobility, but they prayed for it to work. And it did! Dr. Bridgerson's work had ended up saving her life. Unfortunately, since she was the first and only test subject with this level of damage, she was kept inside the machine for further research. Time passed, and her support for the project eventually turned cold as she was kept hooked up for almost 20 years - spending almost every day staring at the ceiling with nothing to do but watch her colleagues poke at her. This came to a head when she managed to usurp control of one of the prototype prosthetic suits and burn her way out of that laboratory with little in mind but self-serving revenge. From around 1963 to 1997 she was quite famous as the self-proclaimed smartest mind the world had ever known, and the grand scale of her schemes had made her quite infamous - enough that, at the end of that time period, she was quickly and quietly confined to The Borehole without the simplest freedom of movement. Previous attempts at incarceration had failed spectacularly, so they didn't feel like risking it and simply keep her locked down in her room. Skills, Talents and Learning: Extremely intelligent, far beyond simple genius level. Her capability for quick learning is near-unmatched in fellow humans, and in general she maintains a wide breadth of knowledge. Her scientific knowledge extends into the theoretical but largely revolves around computers, machinery and robotics; she has the knowledge needed to create new thinking machines to suit just about any need. Despite last being imprisoned in the Windows95 era, has kept up with modern computing and network security. Power(s) and Capabilities: On her own, none. Her pedestal previously had a large amount of redundant weaponry and capabilities built in, such as lasers, jet-powered flight, electrified hull plating, remote computer control devices, and the like. All of these have been removed. The pedestal is still very durable, could probably take a tank shell and not break, but all it can do is move and prolong her life indefinitely. Power Limits: Her ability to create gadgets and weaponry is entirely limited by the resources available to her and the time to utilize them. Her mental capacity is astounding, but limited by shortsighted decisions made out of spite. Known Vulnerabilities: She's a severed head in a jar and is entirely dependent on advanced prosthetics to both survive and interact with the world around her. The pedestal she's currently housed in has been fully compromised by the powers that be; she has no control of it that isn't handed to her, its self-defense features have been physically removed, and it can be remotely locked down at any time. Motives: By this point she simply harbors hatred for all humanity and would like it if she could either get rid of it or fully subjugate it. There have been rumors of hidden "Perfect Bunkers" laying out in some remote part of the world, and it is assumed she would make a beeline for them if she had the opportunity to leave. Recommended Containment Procedures: A history of successful escape attempts by rallying other prisoners has proven troublesome enough to warrant surveillance when interacting with other prisoners. Her movement is to be locked down overnight. Despite lacking any means of manipulating technology, it is recommended to make a log of whatever technology is brought into her cell on the persons of guards/caretakers. Due to the continuing obsolescence of her equipment, a monthly diagnostic check is required. Notes: None at all, keep moving.</s> <\|message\|>Unpronounceable in human tongue. Kailani was still licking metal shards off her jaw as the giant creature emerged from the portal, shaking herself off as the tingle of magic passed. The elevator shaft back up to the floor everyone else was at still had the elevator in the way, so she had to eat through the bottom. Which wasn't a problem, since she got back in time to go through with everyone else! With new friend! There was pavement beneath her feet, so the alien felt comfortable setting Janet down with her strange wheel-feet before looking around. Almost instantly, Kailani forgot about the aches in her muscles, and it was as though sparkles manifested as the alien being seemed to vibrate in excitement. She bit a nearby stand in two. There were so many colors! And lights! And smells so poignant she could taste them on her tongue! And the new portal opening just added more! Kailani's tail whipped back and forth as two new people appeared, the delicious cold man speaking to them. "Goodbye Alfred! Your ankle was delicious!" Her tongue stuck out and licked up the side of the ice phoenix in the middle of his transformation in farewell, though her words were no more than loud chittering. Then she was back to the stand, digging through it. Whatever these twisty salty things were, they were delicious. Plus, there were people all around! It was like a buffet! Just, once she got the last of these crumbs…</s> <\|message\|>Abigail "Abby" Zebrowski @Restalaan @Blazion Abigail "Atom Bomb" Zebrowski The young woman took a moment to scan her surroundings, letting out a sigh of relief. Being far away from Novis was like a great weight lifted off her shoulders. However now she was weary of Mr.Q. Slowly standing up looking over towards Katana, "Are you, okay boss?" Her particular concern for the swordsmen was quite evident. Her steps were stagged as she was still severely wounded from battling Novis. Stumbling a little before falling down on her knees, "Does anyone know first aid…I'm not feeling so hot." From the corner of her eye, she could see Mr.Q approaching her. "Miss Zebrowski, I know I a doctor that would be able to heal your wounds. Unfortunately, we will have to go through another portal to his home in California." Abby bit her lip not wanting to take a detour and go straight to her father. Weighing her options finding that going with Mr.Q would minimize her recapture by the police. Her previous question was not answered as the Ameliya's group disappeared into the shadows. She was not sure if she should ask the others to join her, who in the right mind would want to go to Boston. Slowly turning her head towards Mr.Q to answer his question, "Just as long as we see my dad afterwards, and I assume you can manifest some new duds for me to wear?" Her response made Mr.Q smile with glee, Showing off his crooked yellow teeth. Her attention turned towards Korbl throwing a broken sword at her. Trying her best not to get cut trying to catch it, she was not sure if she should be thankful or not. Taking in his words thinking that she might need his help. "Thanks, I'll keep this in case I need to give ya a call." Bowing her head in a respectful manner. A dark presence could be felt by Mr.Q, he didn't like the idea that Korbl could ruin his plan. So he would have to find a way to get rid of the broken sword. Mr.Q muttered some words flicking his wrist back and forth, a small portal appeared in front of the two. Abby turned toward Kailani feeling bad if she ditched her in the middle of the amusement park. Although she would have a ball eating all of these people, that would only mean she would be recaptured again. Not wanting her to suffer under Novis again she spoke up, "Hi Kail do you wanna go with me to California? I'm sure we can get you a bunch of food to eat. And somewhere you can be safe for those people that wanna hurt you?" Again asking for people to join them made Mr.Q furrow his brow in annoyance. After finishing creating the portal, noticing a small crowd of people coming toward them. They would need to leave soon before the police are called.</s>	<\|message\|>Janet Bridgerson In the course of her career, if you could call it that, Janet had many different escape routes: through the sea, flying over mountains, hiding in dens of ill repute. None were so brazen as appearing in broad daylight, in front of dozens of panicked civilians, surrounded by other villains covered in blood and in the middle of an amusement park. Janet wondered if this was some kind of genius maneuver, beyond her own knowledge and experience, or not. Oh well. She was free, for the moment. Her longest stay in prison thus far, 25 years (give or take some months), had finally come to a close. Freedom, for whatever value it had, was secure for just a minute. With the rest of her fellow escapees being gravely wounded, cowering over those wounded people rather than leaving them behind, already leaving the grounds or concerning themselves with gluttony, it was clear that she needed to act fast if she wanted this freedom to be anything but momentary. Two others, one young and pierced, and the other crooked-toothed and finely dressed, walked over to Kailani. Inroads had already been made here, so Janet was ready to make use of them. "Excuse me." She wheeled over to the three, ignoring Kailani's violent consumption of an entire stand that had probably been sitting in the park for decades. A piece of pretzel slapped against her pedestal's side and slid off. "I'm afraid I'm behind on current events. If any of you are the orchestrators of today's exfiltration, then thank you, but let's skip further gratitude." "You would most likely know me as Professor Perfection. My reputation should precede me. If it does, you should know that I'm more than capable of getting us back on our collective feet, given time." She looked up at Mr. Q, specifically. The wounded man's disappearance, his "entourage" going alongside him, would speed up her timetable at least. "I do not have any inkling about what your next move will be. However," she glanced to the side at Abby, "I can give you somewhere to operate out of for the time being. I doubt any of you have contingency bases pre-prepared. What I lack is a means of transportation."</s>
<\|description\|>Janet Bridgerson Known Aliases: Prof. Perfection Age: 107 Appearance: A severed head stuck inside of a half-spherical jar, attached to a black pedestal. Her face is pale and her hair is white; she looks roughly middle aged despite her actual age, and her eyes are narrow and dark. Most of her face is covered by a large respiration device that is hooked into the pedestal itself, and it's suspended in some kind of fluid. Her pedestal has simple white ridges running down it, wheels hidden underneath, and is otherwise featureless to the outside observer. Psyche Profile: Janet displays very little outward emotion, and while she does possess the capability for emotional response, testing has revealed it as being very stunted. She seems to hold no regard for life other than her own, and regards most things around her with cold spite. She does feel camaraderie in some cases, mostly with those she has attempted to lead on failed escape attempts over the years, but she rarely continues those relationships past the point of them being useful. She has made few request for accommodations despite the extreme nature of her confinement, largely revolving around being allowed brief excursions outdoors (largely denied) and reading material (approved in most cases). Displays obvious narcissism, but generally doesn't speak often. Background: In the course of the United States' involvement in WW2, a novel life support project was given a green light - simple extensions of the iron lung to work as replacement organs in the case of serious trauma, with the hopes that more elegant solutions could be devised when the war was over. Thanks to Dr. Bridgerson and people like her, though, the scope of the project was greatly expanded - they found simplistic-yet-effective methods of allowing a soldier's remaining nervous system to control prosthetics. The obvious applications were going to revolutionize medicine if they could be refined, but the D.o.W. could imagine the incredible combat applications. The Nazi "Eisenmänner" program, in reality, would never reach mass-production thanks to Allied super-agent efforts, but the specter of German fighting machines hung over the heads of Allied strategy-makers. Unfortunately, towards the end of the war - April 3rd, 1945, a little more than a month before Germany would surrender - with the project continuing briskly, it was brought to a halt by an equipment explosion that gravely wounded Dr. Bridgerson. The only option available to paramedics, aided by her research team, was to put her into one of the functioning early iron lung-like prosthetics. It'd remove almost all of her mobility, but they prayed for it to work. And it did! Dr. Bridgerson's work had ended up saving her life. Unfortunately, since she was the first and only test subject with this level of damage, she was kept inside the machine for further research. Time passed, and her support for the project eventually turned cold as she was kept hooked up for almost 20 years - spending almost every day staring at the ceiling with nothing to do but watch her colleagues poke at her. This came to a head when she managed to usurp control of one of the prototype prosthetic suits and burn her way out of that laboratory with little in mind but self-serving revenge. From around 1963 to 1997 she was quite famous as the self-proclaimed smartest mind the world had ever known, and the grand scale of her schemes had made her quite infamous - enough that, at the end of that time period, she was quickly and quietly confined to The Borehole without the simplest freedom of movement. Previous attempts at incarceration had failed spectacularly, so they didn't feel like risking it and simply keep her locked down in her room. Skills, Talents and Learning: Extremely intelligent, far beyond simple genius level. Her capability for quick learning is near-unmatched in fellow humans, and in general she maintains a wide breadth of knowledge. Her scientific knowledge extends into the theoretical but largely revolves around computers, machinery and robotics; she has the knowledge needed to create new thinking machines to suit just about any need. Despite last being imprisoned in the Windows95 era, has kept up with modern computing and network security. Power(s) and Capabilities: On her own, none. Her pedestal previously had a large amount of redundant weaponry and capabilities built in, such as lasers, jet-powered flight, electrified hull plating, remote computer control devices, and the like. All of these have been removed. The pedestal is still very durable, could probably take a tank shell and not break, but all it can do is move and prolong her life indefinitely. Power Limits: Her ability to create gadgets and weaponry is entirely limited by the resources available to her and the time to utilize them. Her mental capacity is astounding, but limited by shortsighted decisions made out of spite. Known Vulnerabilities: She's a severed head in a jar and is entirely dependent on advanced prosthetics to both survive and interact with the world around her. The pedestal she's currently housed in has been fully compromised by the powers that be; she has no control of it that isn't handed to her, its self-defense features have been physically removed, and it can be remotely locked down at any time. Motives: By this point she simply harbors hatred for all humanity and would like it if she could either get rid of it or fully subjugate it. There have been rumors of hidden "Perfect Bunkers" laying out in some remote part of the world, and it is assumed she would make a beeline for them if she had the opportunity to leave. Recommended Containment Procedures: A history of successful escape attempts by rallying other prisoners has proven troublesome enough to warrant surveillance when interacting with other prisoners. Her movement is to be locked down overnight. Despite lacking any means of manipulating technology, it is recommended to make a log of whatever technology is brought into her cell on the persons of guards/caretakers. Due to the continuing obsolescence of her equipment, a monthly diagnostic check is required. Notes: None at all, keep moving.</s> <\|message\|>Janet Bridgerson The place they were taken to was nothing more, from what they could see, than a dusty old hole in the ground. A lift behind them rose about a hundred feet up to the surface, to a hatch buried underneath the ground and left untouched for decades. In front of them was a steel blast door, wide enough to fit a truck through - despite being larger than the lift down - seemingly devoid of any means of entry. Janet's brow furrowed. It'd take a little bit of sleuthing to figure out which one of these this was...to save on material costs, she tended to build these bunkers to a blueprint rather than be unique. While Mr. Q tended to the fallen girl, she replied "Potentially. Don't rush me," and trundled off to the side of the door. Behind a layer of cobwebs on the door was a simple cipher in white paint, a coded identification mark that she had inscribed herself upon the bunker's completion. Nothing to connect the base with her specifically, of course, just there to sort it out . She read its meaning out loud: "Type A PPMB. Rated for nuclear non-penetrating munitions. December 10th, 1973...North Dakota." There was a bit of satisfaction, hard to detect at first, in her voice as she explained. "There's nowhere else in the continent remote enough to build these things. Everyone goes to Alaska or Canada first." She tapped on a hidden panel, flipping open a very retro-looking keyboard, and she began to type in a long code. "Our enemies are far too used to going up north for hidden bunker busting. Do you recall a super by the name of Immortal Jones? Regeneration, bulletproof skin, that sort of small-minded brick of a man. He had to go to Alaska so often that he worked out a deal with airlines just to take economy flights up to Juneau. Our colleagues are rarely original." She briefly wondered what happened to Immortal Jones. Probably was in his 60s by now. Hopefully too decrepit to be a bother. The bunker doors slowly opened with a grinding squeal, protesting after being asked to move for the the first time in almost 50 years. "There is an operating table in here. Room 23. Medical supply should be fully stocked. Don't expect anything comfortable." Down the concrete-lined walls of the bunker, lights turned on one by one with a fluorescent whine - some failing to do so due to sheer age - and their new home away from home was opened up to them. Long, undecorated hallways lit up with faded lamps that colored everything a sickly yellow, leading to dozens of doorways without any identifying marks beyond number - storage, reserves of various pieces of equipment that would've been futuristic in the 70s, narrow bunk rooms for living personnel, file cabinets and such. There were a few doors leading to living accommodations for visiting allies of hers. They weren't large, looking more like hospital dorms than the luxurious arrangements of a visiting villain, but they had beds and that's enough to call a place home. There was only one place that wasn't spartan. A wide room meant for meetings between like-minded individuals, still ascetic in furnishings but nowhere near as functional. On one wall was a sweeping map of the world, still bearing all the hallmarks of an older time: the USSR was still existent, Africa's all but unrecognizable, many details are slightly different.</s> <\|message\|>Abigail "Abby" Zebrowski @Blazion Abigail "Atom Bomb" Zebrowski Mr. Q used his magic to lift Abby's body from the ground, her body floating a few inches off of the ground. Placing his hands on a human's body was quite beneath him. Following Janet into the medical room, Letting Abby's body float onto the cold metal slab. "Thank you." He said muttering some words as a large portal opened inside of the room. A middle aged man walked through the portal wearing some duck themed pyjamas, "There had better been a good reason you wanted to meet at 3 in the morning." The older man eye's looked over the heavily wounded Abby, "I assume you'd want me to do some patchwork on this girl." His wrinkled finger pointed towards Abby's unconscious body. "It would be greatly appreciated, your work will be paid handsomely by the brotherhood." The older man thought for a moment before nodding his head, Mr.Q's employers have always paid well for his services so declining his offer would be ridiculous. "I'm sure you know my price Q." Mr.Q nodded his head with a big smile on his face. The older man was scrambling around being confused by the medical tools caked with dust. He didn't know where to start, turning to face Mr.Q with a grimace. "These tools will not do Q, I'm sure you can conjure something for me to work on this girl, you wouldn't want her getting an infection right?" The demon knew that the medical equipment was too old to fully diagnose and fix Abby's wounds. Snapping his fingers at newer medical equipment and tools around the room. "I believe this should be satisfactory. Please excuse me I have other business to attend to." Floating out of the room, leaving the door open for Kailani to enter the room if she had not already followed the two. Mr.Q floated into the large meeting room where Janet was. Floating behind her and looking over her shoulder. "Your bunker is quite impressive, I remember I was in a similar bunker a long time ago. All I remember however is their leader having a funny little mustache." Floating towards one of the dusty chairs in the middle of the room. "Sitting" down in the chair that a leader of the country would be seated. Although his sitting consisted of behind floating a few inches from the seat. "I am curious, and you would not mind me asking what your next plan of action is?" The well dressed demon folded his long pale hands together in front of him. Mr.Q always found humans to be quite interesting, especially evil people and their Machiavellian plans.</s>	<\|message\|>Janet Bridgerson Professor Perfection, as Mr. Q might have caught her, was standing beside a low control panel in the conference room. Her technology was always ahead of the curb, yes, but given how far removed they were from the 1970s...it was far from current. Command line interfaces and simple processing power; lines drawn with light against a black background instead of pixels on a screen. If they were going to be working out of here for any length of time, Janet was going to have to replace these... She sighed. After Mr. Q spoke, she turned her pedestal around from the tiny screen and past him, wheeling around with a tiny remote in her hand. "You must have been waiting some time to ask that. If I were to guess, you simply wanted to ask me as a prelude to divulging your own designs for the world." She briefly looked at him, trying to gauge his constant self-assuredness. It was the one and only time she looked directly at him this conversation. "Very well-rehearsed designs." She rolled over to the side of the table, placing the remote and immediately beginning to disassemble it. Honestly, 70s Janet, making a device that needs to be broken open to change the batteries...what were you thinking? "I've had much time to think about it. The first and most obvious goal would be to exact revenge and personally kill some of the directorial staff of Thornwood. I have no idea how far you and your friends managed to get on that front before breaking out." She tosses a piece of casing behind her as a couple more metallic graspers snake out of her pedestal, reaching for unseen drawers beneath the wide table and pulling out more 50~ year old technological bits. "However. I realize that such a goal is short-sighted and ultimately caused by my pent-up frustration getting the better of me. I can put it aside for now." "Otherwise? I know it is uncharacteristic of me to say this, but I will admit that I am on my back foot." She begins to quickly re-assemble the device, improved hopefully. "I need to see what has changed in the past few decades. I need to rebuild a small empire that has almost assuredly been picked clean by the jackals I'd call my colleagues during my internment. Can't blame them. Weapons, machines, all sitting around in bunkers like this one, and usually far less well-kept of a secret." She holds the remote upward, and inspects it. "I suppose figuring out your existence is the first step. What are you, exactly. Clearly fantastic in nature. The sort who lords over others with casual violation of physics. A self-described magician? An otherplanar entity? Go ahead and describe yourself."</s>
<\|description\|>Raider Threat: Low-Moderate Description: Professional sellswords aren't always hired to guard just caravans or be part of a proper army. Sometimes they're hired by brigands or even lords to raid their enemies, or menace the local rebellion population. Either way these warriors are a step above your typical rabble and are actually trained fighters, and are often armed with proper armor and better weapons. Still they're more used to being used against a weaker or less numerous foe, or as auxiliary to a proper army. Keep you wits about you and your sword-arm strong and you can stand up against these foes. ---</s> <\|message\|>Sheol Of Night It has been many years since Amelia's capture at the hands of steppe raiders. An unfortunately common fate of many women, and hers was no different. Not too long after her initial capture she was sold off to many different men and women, many of them cruel and barbaric. Others who were captured alongside you were either taken by other buyers or perished on the journey, and it wasn't until you reached the frozen tundras of the Vaegirs you found an opportunity to escape. Your previous master was an aspiring lord, a wandering knight who had taken you and many other women as part of his harem, after slaying the previous bandits who had brought you already. Far from noble, he expected you to serve him faithfully for his "rescue", and despite his arrogance he was indeed very skilled with a sword. Fortunately for you, one of the other slave women was willing to distract him, smuggling you and the others the key to escape while she spent the night with him. During that time you were able to carry off some equipment, mostly loot from previous battles. You escaped alone, the others having gone their separate ways to flee from the knight should he realize what had happened and gives chase. However for better or for worse, a blizzard had struck that night, hiding your trail but threatening your life. After a sleepless night of running you manage to reach the village of Sumbuja, where you took refuge in a farm house. The place looked well enough but there wasn't much in the way of livestock or crops: it must've been winter now, and with it everyone was housed inside just trying to survive. At the very least, it wasn't snowy down here, so you were able to find a dirt road leading south, taking you to the city of Reyvadin. All sorts of folks were coming and going, farmers coming to market, merchants to trade with townsfolk, mercenaries looking to sell their blades, or soldiers awaiting their next orders. However by the time you arrive it was already nightfall, and you barely managed to get inside before the gates were closed. Honest folks were already heading indoors, and the city was big enough for you to get lost in without people to give direction. Tired, hungry, and cold, you would wander the streets looking for an inn when you could hear the rasp of a blade being drawn. Behind you was a lone man, wearing a masked helm that hide his identity. He cursed under his breath: you had spotted him before he could've ambushed you. There was no guard in sight, and you could hear nary a whisper from the buildings around you. You seemed to be alone, and this man knew it as he came charging right at you, blade in hand, looking to take either your money or your life. He must've been following you because you could see that you had walked right into a dead-end alley as well: the only way to escape was pass him. Now you must act, less you suffer the fate you had already worked so hard to escape.</s> <\|message\|>Amelia Starwen Amelia cursed at the sight of the man charging her. She didn't have much time to think as she was backed up into a dead end. Her hand fell to her side, gripping the worn leather hilt and pulling a short sword from the scabbard tied at her waist, barely managing to grip it. So cold, tired.... She was unsure if she'd have the strength to fend off this attacker, but she had come so far! She had to try! "Leave me alone!" she yelled out, her voice hoarse and dry from so long of never using it, she sounded almost like a stranger to herself. Amelia learned long ago to keep quiet and do as told or suffer further punishments. "Please," she said, the last part barely a whisper and mostly to herself to hold on and prepare for the fight. She steadied herself, staring the man down and waited... waited until he was close enough she could side step him and swing the blade at a downwards angle towards his arm. Being no expert, she felt her grip falter a little, but was quick to tighten her grip again and drive the edge of the blade towards the man.</s>	<\|message\|>Raider Your words seem to fall on deaf ears, an experience you know all too well. The man continued his charge, raising his blade above his head to strike. At the very least you could tell this man was no soldier: the raiders who took you had better form than this thug. No doubt he simply expected his size and ferocity to make up for any deficiencies in his technique. Were you a peasant this would've been enough to end you, but at the last moment before he brought down his blade you were able to dodge him and tried to cut his arm. Instinctively, he raised his hand to block, getting cut across the forearm. He had a thick layer of cloth as a makeshift form of armor, but even that didn't prevent him from getting cut by your blade. He grunted in pain, having to switch to his less dominant but uninjured arm and began to swing wildly at you in close-quarters. It was hard to tell if this man was trying to take you alive or not: he certainly wasn't trying to be careful. Fortunately the man's wild swings, as scary as they are, were predictable since he treated his sword more like a club than a blade, making exaggerated movements to try to get the most force out of each swing, which would give you more than enough time to dodge him. It doesn't seem like he was trying too hard to defend himself despite your ability to fight back, presumably he expects you to go down easily. As you dodge his blows, he lunges and stabs his sword, missing you shoulder and his blade plunges into a wooden pillar. For a second, he is stuck, giving you a chance to act.</s>
<\|description\|>Emmet 'Butcher' Dukes Character Sheet Appearance: Alias: Markeith Singh Age: 27 Gender: male Description: (Height, weight, skin/hair/eye colour, build, special features, etc.) Height: 5' 11" Skin: Terra Cotta Hair: Dark Caramel Brown Eyes: Hazel Special features: strong cheekbones, mild scar tissue across chest Role: Knight Specialty: close quarters fighting, both with and without weapons. He is nimble and quick, dodging almost any strike before using one fell swoop to take out his competition. Personality: Emmet is a well-groomed and happy go lucky man in his free time, well known for his boisterous laugh and his perfect shave. He talks often about his beauty routines and loves to make pleasant conversation. In combat though, Dukes becomes another man. He gets into a deep focus and his face goes blank. He dances around his competition with great grace, but no joy, and he does not stop until all ki has left their body. Once he finishes fighting, he returns to his normal self, as if nothing had ever happened. Background: The Butcher was born under the name Markeith Singh to a noble family in Belisio. At his birthday a rapier was made for him, one that he would be raised to use. It was named rasselbock and forged of the best metal money could buy. During his upbringing Singh was raised for war, his education surrounding the use of his rapier in dueling and modern sidearms in close quarters combat. He learned of how to command those below him and how to defend himself should he enter hand-to-hand combat. Upon his eighteenth birthday he was presented with the blade that was his birthright, yet something did not feel right. Throughout all his education he had learned how to lead others and how to defend himself, yet with this he had been taught how to tell other men to kill for him. That year he snuck out of the house one evening and found his way to a place he had heard about, known simply as the dome. Deep under the streets he put on his powered chest plate and took his blade. It was supposed to be a light duel, first to draw blood won. He danced around his opponent, leaping to and fro as he played with his food. The crowd watched and laughed, seeing the large brute that Singh faced take swing after swing to no avail. Finally, with the crowd at the climax of entertainment and with his foe tired he lunged into to strike with force. He suddenly felt an odd power flowing through his veins, and as he went in his vision blurred and he felt his arms move beyond what he ever believed his could do. Silence surrounded him followed by a large thud, and suddenly his full vision returned to him. On his rapier was blood, and he turned to the crowd in victory as they watched in horror. Suddenly he realized what had happened and seeing the gurgling corpse on the floor he realized he had gone too far. He quickly fled, realizing that he had murdered a man. For the next week he went into the depths of his home city, seeing and living amongst the wretches of society. He was unsure how to react to the sights he saw, and he came to realize that not much had changed from his family's previous actions. After all, what was the difference between the man he had stabbed and the wretched and starving poor whom his family had not helped despite their great wealth? He did not ponder the question for long, because he was more focused on his own monetary situation, as he had nothing beside his blade and his armor to provide for him. By some divine providence though he was saved by an unfamiliar face who had tracked him down. The man, wearing a long trench coat with a high collar had seen his crimes that fateful night, and he knew that Singh had nowhere else to go. He took the boy in and helped him rebrand himself. A new set of clothes and fake papers later Singh was now Dukes, and he had a job offer from the man. And so Emmet 'the Butcher' Dukes was born, and he began his work in a place known as the Pit, an illegal underground operation that saw nightly performances of duels and fights that only stopped when one man lay dead. Dukes quickly became a prized fighter, slaying many in the pit. He lost all love for the game he was in though over time, and it simply became a monotonous dance for an uncaring and criminal crowd. After nine years of his career, Dukes was finally found by city authorities. He was brought to trial on account of murder and some other petty crimes he purportedly committed during his career in the Pit. He was found guilty on all accounts, but on death row he was given one last chance by the government - after some intervention from his family who were delighted at the news of their living son. All he had to do was give his skills to the military and he would be spared from execution. What else was a boy to do in a situation like this? Equipment: a rapier, a power armor chest plate, a small locket with a family crest, laz revolver, energy buckler, laz dagger, automatic plasma caster, stick grenades, and spiked boots that can be used for climbing surfaces. Abilities: powerful use of ki for unnaturally fast movement and reflexes, dancing and feats of gymnastics, strong lunges, and the ability to disarm opponents in close combat. He also uses his ki to heal himself from terrible wounds at an incredibly fast rate. Finally, through his primary weapon, rasselbock, he is able to concentrate his ki in order to empower his weapon, in which the guard of the weapon grows into his flesh and he becomes one with it. In this state he is wounded, but he gains almost complete connection with his weapon which glows with the spirit of the fight, during this time his sheer willpower can allow his blade to pierce through armor and plates that no blade this old should be able to pierce through. After using this he is quite tired and requires rest, this process is also extremely painful.</s> <\|message\|>Turzo Drunoda Turzo "Wrath" Drunoda The speech went as well as he could hope with the muscle bound meat heads and the ever so silent shadows lingering in the corner. The specters were definitely different they represented the saying, desperate times call for desperate measures. Not even the empire would push the human body so far with so many machines unless they were slave and a prized possession of a noble family. One who takes more value in the physical means of a person then what makes them a person in the first place. The mages seemed to be rather distant or at least quiet not wanting to speak up so far. The knight across from them apparently called Kass spoke up as more soldiers filtered in, another noble knight by the looks of him. Still the traitor comment did catch his attention but did not let it show that it got under his skin. "Unfortunately for you noble knight I neither have the time nor the crayons to explain the empires judicial system to you. However you can rest assured that because of an oath I swore, I am honor bound to fight against my nation. It's a concept I don't expect you to understand but I'm sure you will eventually." He wasn't so high up on his pedestal to not be able to throw around a few insults now and then, by the smile on his face anyone could tell he enjoyed provoking the others. He was telling the truth after all, the justice system of the Vaim Empire was strife with loopholes and ancient customs that unless the Emperor himself wills it can be very hard to navigate. The oath of justice he swore was the reason he was fighting alongside them. The old and rarely used custom that he invoked was used in times of trouble for the empire. If one saw something that needed changed they could challenge it. Depending on what it was, was dependent on what the individual had to do to change it. Most used this to lobby for small changes within the empire and few would go to the lengths he had. To put it simply one had to bring the case to the courts with evidence that something was wrong and effort by the person submitting it to show how important and or serious it was to them. These cases were always for the betterment of the empire and ultimately the emperor would have the final say. For Turzo he had seen the corruption within the empire and its armies, they were supposed to be there to grow the empire and annex the surrounding nations. When he saw the rampant strife and destruction his fellows were doing to those who were conquered and made members of the empire angered him. Even if they were a slave they still had some rights on their path to being a full citizen. Seeing this he called in every favor and spent most of his wealth on people that would gather information and proof of these crimes while he went into self-isolation to fight against his own countrymen. Through this he would gather his proof and show his effort by fighting. He knew that either on his death or when he returned he will be judged. Ultimately deciding whether he would be executed, exiled permanently, or rule that he was correct. Obviously people would fight him over it but in his eyes he was still an honorable patriot of the Vaim Empire. Taking stock of their surroundings once more as the knight commander spoke up and began talking about the battle plan and how it was going to change. He took a better note of the "witch" standing next to him and the other mage covered in black that took up a position on the other side of him. Judging by their gear neither looked like the type that would be best at a distance like himself. Still they were battle mages like him just like the others behind him as well. He wondered how many would be able to make it out as the door to the hangar slid open revealing the battle ground below. "For the glory of the Empire." He spoke under his breath and turned toward their shuttle. then he called out to the other mages, "Come friends, let's show these lessor's just what power truly is." With a smile he stepped up onto the shuttle but kept close to the door. The glow from him began to intensify as he worked on his breathing. It was time to get into the zone and be ready to be the destroyer he was made to be.</s> <\|message\|>Vires Arcturus Spaeros Vires "The Griff" Spaeros Pt 2. \| Knights Banter Kass snarled at Drunoda, "No one wanted an explanation! I am reminding you of who you are and where you stand in this lot! Prove us wrong or don't, I will take pleasure in responding to both!" "Peace, Kass." Words that shocked the depths of Kass' being like a thunderous whisper. Kass held tremendous respect for Roland, her wits snapping back into place. Her gaze quickly reoriented toward's the Lion of Belisio. She purged her thoughts quickly to give room for Roland's address. Dante did not do the same. He was one of the seven Knights who followed Griff by choice stood in the far back with Ciri and Lucia. Dante was the silent type who kept himself brief in conversation, but when he did speak, his tongue dropped heavy and thoughtful prose. Slender in physique, agile, and accurate. He was a marksman and short ax handler. His abilities surrounded his speed of execution. Dante tilted his head back. He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. In his mind he imagined the sounds of his hometown, Bova. Dante drifted across cliff sides as waves crashed into the high rock walls, until he reached the water well at the center of a loosely stoned town square with the smell of baking bread and strings of the church band playing. His vision took him through the narrow warm corridors that revealed a familiar wooden door opening into his mother and father's den. Both smiling as they sat at the family table sipping coffee from this morning's brew. His mother gently cutting a small piece of bread for Dante's father, and then placing another piece on an empty plate before an empty seat. His vision pulled him toward the empty seat as the calling of his sister echoed from upstairs, "I'm coming!", the footsteps of a 9-year old eager girl charged down the steps with a big smile on her face taking her seat. Dante's vision stopped pulling him toward the family table, they all placed their heads down clasping hands, his father praying and then releasing with the final comment, "So be it." His father looking up to gaze into Dante's being. Immediately the vision rushed Dante out of the house, toward the town square, up into the sky, and back to the waves crashing against the cliffside. Dante opened his eyes as he felt Ciri's finger draw a tear away from his eye, "Are you ready?" She asked gently. Dante tilted his head forward, commanding his attitude back into formation, "Are we ever Ciri?" She replied, "No." And then smiled, "So be it." Dante whispered back, "So be it." When Roland finished, Griff turned around toward his compatriots, "We do not define the outcome, but we will define how it is told. No matter what happens when we dive, find each other, stand together, stand firm, and then we move forward." Griff paused, he looked at Dane, Federo, Kass, Ciri, Dante, Lucia, and Omir, each nodding their heads out of recognition and love. They had fought alongside each other for quite some time, and each knew this campaign would be different than any other they've ever suffered before. Before Griff turned back to lead them into the shuttle he noted out loud, "Remember…no heroes, only Knights." The 7 responded, "Strength and Honor!" The group moved toward the shuttle following Leonis.</s>	<\|message\|>Emmet 'Butcher' Dukes Emmet "the Butcher" Dukes Shock and Awe: Part 2 Emmet and his fellow knights marched through the hanger onto their shuttle. It was a piece of machinery to behold, never had warfare been so quick. Each knight took his place within the shuttle, remaining in their formation. Each man stood, holding the safety handles above. Little light entered the shuttle, leaving the men in dim lighting with their faces obscured. Some took this time while waiting for takeoff to prepare themselves. Some smoked a pipe, some prayed, and others simply took deep breaths. Emmet was cleaning his blade, Rasselbock, one last time before going into battle. He used a cloth that he kept in his belt, and he carefully wiped the dust off the edges of his tool. He did not know why he cleaned it, it made no difference to his enemy. Perhaps it was out of a sanctity for life, or maybe it was pure vanity. Either way, he knew that hours from now he would be cleaning it the same way with some more disposable cloths, as he did not like to keep a bloodied blade. The blade now shined in the light of the shuttle, a reflective surface that gleamed through the dead of night that the men found themselves in. Emmet thought to sheath it for a moment, but instead he held onto it and grabbed the rail above his head with his free hand. Focusing his ki, Emmet began to put all his energy into his hand in preparation for the coming conflict. He felt the glow of his blade grow stronger, and a slight hum came from it. His hand began to sweat, and the guard began to shift. The ornate strands of metal began to wrap around his hand, and he felt the pressing of metal upon his flesh. His breath quickened, and he suddenly felt a deep and intimate connection with his blade, ready to move with unnatural speed. Now prepared, he looked up to his men and broke the silence. "I will not lie to you, this work we now undertake is not tranquil, it is not ascetic, and it is not beautiful. Our blades and our clothes will be sullied with the blood of other men. They are exactly that, other human beings. The propaganda would like to tell you otherwise, and you know why? It's because it's the only way to survive. I know some of you have not seen conflict like this, and I give you this advice: know that you are fighting men, but do not let yourself feel it. It is the only way to live with yourself." With that he fell silent, and so the shuttle remained.</s>
<\|description\|>Myra Hayes Home: Originally from Alpharetta, Georgia, United States (near Atlanta). Now attending college in College Park, Maryland, United States. Appearance: Myra is 31 and looks about 10. She is a bit tall and gangly for her age. Her peach-colored hair is cut just shy of shoulder-length. Her warm light brown eyes match the warm smile that's often seen on her face. She likes to wear pretty "Southern belle" sundresses but will settle for a sweater dress and scarf when it's cold. Personality: Myra is typically a bubbly and friendly person, perhaps to a fault. Though she's okay with friendly Pokemon battles, she can't stand interpersonal conflict, and will often… bend the truth a bit rather than say something that will make other people angry. That, combined with a tendency to speak before thinking when she gets excited, has led to a reputation of being a sweet and fun friend to hang out with but not a deep friend you can share your secrets with. Sometimes she becomes anxious and jittery when the web of subtle lies grows too big and complex. Myra also has some trouble sticking up for herself and her beliefs if it would involve an argument, instead choosing to wait out or circumvent the situation. Those flaws aside, Myra has a sunny and friendly personality that can put most people and Pokemon at ease, and she is more than willing to help a person in need if she has time to spare. Biography: Myra is the youngest of three siblings. She has a normal upper-middle-class suburban family, except for one thing: her parents hate Pokemon. They are dangerous, and smelly, and make a mess all over the place with their fur or feathers or boiling magma and whatnot. And trainers are even WORSE. They are just handed free airfare, free supplies, free healthcare for their brutally beaten "companions," and for what? The entertainment value? The world needs more doctors and lawyers who WORK and contribute to the good of society for an honest living, not more freeloading Pokemon trainers. At a young age, Myra learned two things: that she likes Pokemon, and how to lie. If she got fur on her clothes after feeding a wandering street Pokemon, she'd say it must have rubbed off from her friend's clothes. When she joined the after-school Pokemon club, she told her parents she had joined the track team, which was -technically- true and worked out pretty well until she was kicked off the track team for non-attendance. Of course, becoming a Pokemon trainer at age 30 was out of the question. Myra was urged to apply for colleges and ended up going to University of Maryland to major in Communications. It wasn't the closest or cheapest option, but Myra said she wanted to get a little distance from home in order to learn how to be an independent adult, an admirable goal. In reality, she wanted to move far from home so her family wouldn't find out that the college plan was just a facade, and her REAL plan was to become a Pokemon trainer! Over the past few months, Myra has passed the trainer test, gotten a couple Pokemon, and participated in a few battles between her studies. She has been able to keep her Pokemon secret from her family, and she even paid extra to stay in her dorm over winter break. But now comes the real test: the big family Christmas and New Year's gathering in Knoxville, TN. Will Myra be able to keep her secret for just over a week? Pokemon: Perry – Bulbasaur – male – level 11 – hardy nature – Overgrow – Tackle, Vine Whip, Growth, Leech Seed Myra chose Bulbasaur as her starter because of the claim that Bulbasaur are "easy to train." She didn't want an unruly Pokemon to blow her cover. Perry turned out to fit the expectation. He is a rather dependable, loyal, and well-behaved Pokemon, though he acts too serious at times and struggles with the concept of "fun." Flicker – Litwick – female – level 8 – impish nature – Infiltrator – Astonish, Smog, Ember, Minimize Flicker, on the other hand, might blow Myra's cover and relish in it. She is a childlike soul who loves wandering away and playing Hide and Seek – whether or not anyone else has agreed to play. She misbehaves not out of malice, but out of the pride of being able to escape anyone, get into anywhere, and the innocent (in her eyes) fun of startling people and Pokemon.</s> <\|message\|>Myra Hayes Myra Hayes Knoxville, TN, United States "Excuse me, miss," a store clerk began. "Can I help you find something? You've been looking for quite a while." Myra looked up from her stooped position, a bit of pink flushing her cheeks. Rows of scented candles lined the aisle surrounding her. She put a handful of small votive candles back on the shelf and stood to greet the clerk. "Uhh, I don't suppose you've seen a Litwick around these parts?" Myra asked with a sheepish smile, brushing a few strands of peach-colored hair out of her eyes. "She came here last time she wandered off." The clerk frowned slightly. "Sorry, I don't believe I have." "Oh, I might've seen it!" a customer interjected. "I saw a little white thing walking on a roof on Main Street. It was too far away to really know if it was a Litwick, though." Myra let out a small gasp, feeling the best thrill of hope she'd had all afternoon. "Oh, thank you!" Myra gushed at the random customer. "You're such a dear. Perry, let's go." Hearing his name, the Bulbasaur paused his painstaking inspection of candles. He used his vines to place a discounted gingerbread-scented candle back on the highest shelf and followed his trainer out the door. "We oughtta go back there after we find Flicker," Myra rambled, talking more to calm her nerves than for an actual purpose. "I've never seen a sugarplum candle before. You reckon the real thing smells like that?" Perry didn't respond. The grass-type was already scanning the roofs and sniffing the air, laser-focused on the task at hand. Myra and Perry entered Myra's hovercar, Perry sticking his head out the rolled-down window. The girl felt a little anxious about leaving Perry out of his Pokeball for so long. What if somebody saw them and ratted her out to her family? But right now, the lost Litwick was a bigger problem. Risky as it was, Myra needed another pair of eyes to help her. Myra began hovering toward Main Street, riding low and slow to keep an eye out for Flicker. Meanwhile... At some point, Flicker's hiding spot began to make a soft whirring sound. Then it began to rise up into the air. Flicker peeked out of the hoverbike's satchel just in time for it to speed forward. The Litwick realized what was happening and put on a mischievous grin. Looks like she was going for a ride! After a couple minutes, Flicker decided to find out who her kindly chauffeur was. She climbed out of the bag and was immediately nearly knocked off by the wind rushing past the bike. Flicker held on for dear life, eyes wide, flame spurting diagonally from the top of her head. Usually she scared other people, but this time SHE was the one scared..... what a thrill! Flicker giggled, the sound barely covered by the motor and wind. Soon, the hoverbike slowed, perhaps nearing an intersection. Flicker gathered her bearings and noticed a young black-haired boy driving the bike. With an impish smile, the Litwick silently maneuvered around the hoverbike's frame. She landed right behind Reno with the biggest THUMP her six-pound body could muster and let out a chilling shriek.</s> <\|message\|>Reno Kelly Reno KellyKnoxville, TN December 29th, 2099 The Hitchhiker Reno had made it to the city's edge, and was stopping to plot a course home. That's when he heard it. The shriek was barely audible over the sound of traffic behind him and through his helmet, but it was just enough. Reno turned around and saw the little Litwick. "What in the world? Where did you come from little one?"</s> <\|message\|>Myra Hayes Myra Hayes Knoxville, TN, United States Flicker sagged a little in disappointment. She was hoping for a bit more of a reaction... not entirely aware that inciting a big reaction on a moving hoverbike would be a pretty poor choice. In response to the boy's question, Flicker looked around. And kept looking, spinning around in a circle. She had not the slightest clue where she was. The Litwick shrugged. She looked a bit nervous for a second, but soon she put on a smiling face again and tried to climb around Reno to reach the handlebar.</s> <\|message\|>Reno Kelly Reno KellyKnoxville, TN December 29th, 2099 The Hitchhiker Reno smiled as the tiny candle Pokemon jumped her way onto this handlebars. "Okay," He said, still smiling. "So you're lost, and you want to ride up front. Got you." He then paused to think, to think about his next move. "I got it! You must have gotten on my bike last time I was stopped, back at the Lab. I bet your trainer is waiting for your there, assuming you have a trainer already." With a destination picked out, Reno turned around and zoomed off, back toward the Pokemon Lab. He half hoped that he wouldn't find a trainer there waiting. Maybe this was a wild Litwick that he could catch for himself... Somehow, he knew that wouldn't be the case.</s> <\|message\|>Myra Hayes Myra Hayes Knoxville, TN, United States Flicker grinned as the hoverbike sped forward. It was a much smoother ride now with a better handhold, and a driver aware of her presence. As the hoverbike slowed for traffic, the Litwick spotted a small yellow hovercar cruising low. Could it be Myra's? With no warning, Flicker hopped off Reno's hoverbike. Fortunately, the ghost-type had some ability to hover, and she floated down slowly for a soft landing. Unfortunately, Flicker was way off on her estimation of speed and timing, and the yellow car was already long gone by the time Flicker passed its level. Flicker landed next to a big bare tree. She grumbled in frustration and began stomping back toward the main road. Just three steps later, she walked right into a wall of taut yarn or something. The Litwick struggled to pull against the sticky wall for a second. Then, with a little focus, she was able to phase through the object and rematerialize on the other side, pulling at a couple strands of thread that still stuck to her wax. Though she escaped the web, just the brief struggle was enough to alert the Pokemon waiting nearby. Flicker cried out as a Pokemon pounced on her and struck her with a Poison Sting. The Litwick feigned fainting for a second, just enough to catch the attacker off guard. Then she squirmed around and screeched at the attacker, flame flaring. The Astonish caused the wild Pokemon to flinch just long enough for Flicker to scramble out of its eight-legged grasp. Flicker glanced at the tree to see two wild Spinarak regrouping to attack.</s> <\|message\|>Reno Kelly Reno KellyKnoxville, TN December 29th, 2099 The Hitchhiker Litwick jumped off the front of Reno's bike before he had a chance to stop her. 'Shit.' he thought to himself. He didn't know why she jumped, but he couldn't just leave the little Pokemon behind. It obviously had a knack for getting lost. So he began his decent. Luckily he didn't have that far down left to go, as they were almost back at the Pokemon Lab already. Once he could turn around he did, headed back toward where Litwick had jumped. When he got to the area where she should have landed, he couldn't see her. Surely she was in the area, but finding her would be difficult; she was just SO tiny. That's when he heard a screeching noise, that sounded a lot like the noise the Litwick had made to get his attention when he met her. 'That can't be good.' he thought, and zoomed straight toward the sound. He found Litwick in no time. She wasn't far away. If she were an average sized Pokemon, he probably would have seen her first. In any case, he was here now, and just in time it seemed. Litwick was facing off against two mean looking Spinarak. "You sure know how to find trouble don't you?" Reno said, as he got off his hoverbike and took off his helmet. The Spinarak seemed momentarily stunned by the new arrival, but this didn't last long. It was, however, just long enough for him to pull out Fennekin's Pokeball and summon her into battle. "Litwick, if you know any Fire type moves yet, now would be the time to use one. Together, we can scare these spiders away." He then turned his attention to his own Pokemon. "Fennekin, use ember on the left Spinarak!" This wasn't how he pictured his first Pokemon battle, but it was now or never. He hadn't had any time to practice with his Fennekin, but if his studies were right, she should know Ember by the time she was ready to go off with a trainer. Fortunately, he was correct. The tip of Fennekin's tail caught fire with a small flame. She then swung it, and sent the little bit of fire straight at her target!</s>	<\|message\|>Myra Hayes Knoxville, TN, United States Flicker stood rigid, stunned by the fast sequence of events. She looked vaguely toward Reno as he spoke and then numbly glanced around the battlefield. "Flicker!" a voice called out. "Use Ember... on the left... one, too!" Myra arrived at the scene, stooping forward to pant after the jog. Perry had managed to catch a glimpse of a Litwick as it floated behind the hovercar. Myra was able to park and reach the battle site not long after Reno - though Perry the Bulbasaur was still working toward reaching the scene with his stubby legs. The Litwick snapped out of her daze at the sound of her trainer's command. A mischievous smile came to the ghost-type's face as its flame burned large and bright. Then part of the flame burst up and sailed toward the left Spinarak. After her attack, Flicker spared a moment to give her trainer a sunny smile. The gesture was met with an irked eyebrow raise. Myra straightened up and gave the other young trainer a brief nod. Any further explanation may have to wait a minute.</s>
<\|description\|>Marabella Swan Nickname: Mara or Bella Age: Looks about 18 or 19 Species: Vampire Looks: Personality: Marabella is one that's quite loyal to those she considers family and friends and would do just about anything for them. If it came down to it, she'd give the shirt right off her back. She can be sarcastic at times and rude to those that rub her the wrong way. She can become very passionate about things she puts her mind to. Once she starts something, she finishes it, she hates to leave things unfinished. Other: She has a strong love for singing, music, and being outdoors. Something that has stayed with her from when she was human.</s> <\|message\|>Skarlett Mikaelson Skarlett stood on her front porch as she let out a sigh, the temperature so low her breath could be seen. She was waiting for her twin, Kol, her blood-related twin, not Carson the adoptive one,to come pick her up. Skarlett and the rest of her Mikaelson siblings were driving up to New York Cit. Since she was a Mikaelson, she has big shoes to fill, I mean after all, she is an Original. Originals are the first vampires ever created, turned only by magic, and not by the new vampire method. Earlier that morning, Skarlett had written up a note and explained to her guardian where she was going the the time in which she believed she would be home by.She was also kind of nervous and hesitant of going because for all Skarlett knew, she could be getting kidnapped by her sibling. Skarlett looked around, and brushed a lock of her medium brown hair behind her ear and looked around. Since she saw no black SUV, she pulled out her phone and took a seat on the porch swing</s> <\|message\|>Marabella Swan Marabella Swan Marabella sat behind the wheel of her black cherry 1968 Chevrolet Chevelle, tapping her fingers to the beat of the song on the radio on the steering wheel. It was hard to not tap along with a song from Journey, not to mention it was the only thing occupying her on her long drive to the town of Mystic Falls, and there wasn't much to look at on the way there. It had been well over two hundred years since she had stepped foot into Mystic Falls, and she had planned to never return after what had happened the last time she was there, but something was drawing her back. What that something was, she wasn't quite sure of yet but she planned to find out, deal with it, and get back out as quickly as she could. She had mostly bad memories about Mystic Fall and hardly any good ones. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of them, which made her quickly shake them from her mind. It wasn't long until the Mystic Falls sign came into view, she sighed heavily and gripped her steering wheel a bit. As she passed the sign, a shiver ran down her spine. She disliked being in a town with so many Werewolves and Witches, she'd had nothing but bad run-ins with them over the years and she despised both. Plus, now that she was here, she would have to find herself a place to stay. Her mind instantly went to the Salvatore brothers and she wondered if they were still around after all these years, and if they might let her stay at the boarding house while she was there but she didn't just want to invite herself to stay. Though she might stop by just to see how they've managed over the years, it had been so long since she had seen either one of them. She sighed once again as the town came into full view and she drove through it. It had definitely changed some, but the people were as lively as ever. Marabella drove through town watching the people go here and there, wondering if those she was looking at were just normal humans or something else entirely. Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she looked ahead once again and saw the Grill. She decided she'd stop for a while after her long drive and get an idea of what the people were like here nowadays. Finding a parking spot, she parked her car and made her way inside. She found a table near the back so that she could have a good view of the whole place and all the people that came and went. After she sat down, a waitress came by to take her order. Marabella's order was very simple, a hot drink and a little something to nibble on. Once the waitress left, she sat back in her chair and watched the people. As she watched, a thought lingered in the back of her mind. If she sat here long enough, at some point she'd probably run into one of the Salvatores before making it to the Boarding House.</s> <\|message\|>Skarlett Mikaelson " Where are they"Skarlett murmured under her breath. She opened 'Messages' on her phone and scrolled down, calling every single Mikaelson, and when none of them answered she let out a string of curses. She regained compusre and checked the ' Find My IPhone, just to see that all of them were in NYC, she was sure she was gonna put a stake through Elijah and Klaus, they'll be fine afterwards anyway. She scrolled back up and called Damon Salvatore, her boyfriend. " If he doesn't answer, I am literally gonna walk to the New York ." Skarlett muttered something one last time before putting the phone to her ear. After a few seconds of ringing, Damon picked. " Come pick me up." Skarlett said quickly and then she hung up, a smile on her face, the first one of today. She stood up, putting her leather backpack on, which now slung over her left shoulder. Skarlett looked around and went back inside her house, trying not to freeze her toes off, she kind of needs them. She had sat down on the bench in the elaborate mudroom before the door swung open. Skarlett popped up , backed away from the door. She smiled to the person in the doorway, " Hi." Skarlett said simply to him as shephone her phone away, walking up to Damon, a smirk on his face. " Good morning to you little miss I'm-on-a-mission." Damon answered back, pulling my backpack off my shoulders to him. " Good morning, but I am on a mission, I am gonna kill Elijah and Klaus."</s> <\|message\|>Marabella Swan Marabella Swan As Marabella waited on her order, she continued to watch the people that came and went. Not too much seemed to be different about the people that lived here now than back when she was here last. Yes, the younger generation was different, which was to be expected with the changing of the times and whatnot. Propping her elbow on the table, she rested her chin in the palm of her hand with a sigh. The people of this town were still dull, and only a handful knew what lurked around corners and in dark allies. Another sigh escaped her, this one heavier than the last before the waitress returned with her order. "Here you are. I'm sorry for the wait. We're a bit busier today than we normally are." the waitress said in a warm and apologetic tone as she set everything on the table. Marabella smiled back just as warmly and shook her head softly after lifting it from her hand. "Thank you, and it's alright. You seem to be a bit short-staffed." she spoke as warmly as her smile. A smile found its way to the waitress's lips as Marabella spoke warmly to her. "Yes, Ma'am. We are quite short-staffed today. We weren't expecting to have such a busy morning." the waitress said with a small laugh. "Anyway, I better get back to work before my boss yells at me." With a little laugh in her throat, the waitress turned and left Marabella's table. Marabella watched the young woman for a moment before picking up her cup and bringing it to her lips and taking a sip, then let out a soft sigh as she brought it from her lips and back to the table. She then nibbled on the food she had ordered as she went back to quietly watching the people coming and going from the Grill, making sure to not make it too obvious. She would occasionally listen in on some of the conversations going on around her, just to see if she could pick up on anything interesting or find what had led her here.</s> <\|message\|>Skarlett Mikaelson She started to rush past Damon grabbed her, holding her against her will. " Damon, let me go, " I groaned as I struggled to break free. " You are not going to kill your brothers." Damon answered and his arms grew tighter against me. Skarlett let out a huff of defeat and sighed. Damon unwrapped his arms and gently kissed her head. ( Sorry this was short, I don't have a lot of time)</s>	<\|message\|>Marabella Swan Marabella continued to sit at a table in the Mystic Grill, watching and listening to the people that came and went. After finishing what she had ordered, she began to grow bored of the people and atmosphere. Calling over the waitress and getting the check, she paid her and even gave her a decent tip. Standing from the table Bella made her way through the building, out the door, and outside, taking a deep breath once she was back outside. Moving away from the door, she looked around the town as she decided what she should do. Should she wander around town to see what was new? Should she find the Salvatores, or should she just linger around the Grill and see who or what crossed her path? Sighing heavily, she settled on roaming around town and getting a feel for the town and its residents. Picking a random direction, she began to walk, taking in everything the town had to offer. It was almost surprising how some things had changed while other things hadn't changed one bit after all the time that had passed since she was last in Mystic Falls. It actually made her laugh a bit to herself and even shake her head. It was as if time had slightly stood still in certain parts of the town. She could still vividly remember what each building used to be, which some were still the same today. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her black jacket, she continued on her way with a light hum and a small smirk resting on her lips.</s>
<\|description\|>Frederick Steros Nickname: Fred/Freddie. Age: appears to be in his early 20s. Species: Siphoner/Vampire/Heretic Looks: Personality: A nine hundred year old vampire, Fredrick has had plenty of time to learn to control his hunger and magic. A very cunning individual who doesn't value human life. With a distrust for witches, and his sire Kol Mikaelson. Despite his long life, Fredrick has never really known what it's like to have a family. Shunned from his coven when he was a witch for being a siphoner, and having his sire bond abused by Kol Mikaelson. He isn't a trusting person. Having been hunted by supernatural hunters for most of his life.</s> <\|message\|>Skarlett Mikaelson " Where are they"Skarlett murmured under her breath. She opened 'Messages' on her phone and scrolled down, calling every single Mikaelson, and when none of them answered she let out a string of curses. She regained compusre and checked the ' Find My IPhone, just to see that all of them were in NYC, she was sure she was gonna put a stake through Elijah and Klaus, they'll be fine afterwards anyway. She scrolled back up and called Damon Salvatore, her boyfriend. " If he doesn't answer, I am literally gonna walk to the New York ." Skarlett muttered something one last time before putting the phone to her ear. After a few seconds of ringing, Damon picked. " Come pick me up." Skarlett said quickly and then she hung up, a smile on her face, the first one of today. She stood up, putting her leather backpack on, which now slung over her left shoulder. Skarlett looked around and went back inside her house, trying not to freeze her toes off, she kind of needs them. She had sat down on the bench in the elaborate mudroom before the door swung open. Skarlett popped up , backed away from the door. She smiled to the person in the doorway, " Hi." Skarlett said simply to him as shephone her phone away, walking up to Damon, a smirk on his face. " Good morning to you little miss I'm-on-a-mission." Damon answered back, pulling my backpack off my shoulders to him. " Good morning, but I am on a mission, I am gonna kill Elijah and Klaus."</s> <\|message\|>Marabella Swan Marabella Swan As Marabella waited on her order, she continued to watch the people that came and went. Not too much seemed to be different about the people that lived here now than back when she was here last. Yes, the younger generation was different, which was to be expected with the changing of the times and whatnot. Propping her elbow on the table, she rested her chin in the palm of her hand with a sigh. The people of this town were still dull, and only a handful knew what lurked around corners and in dark allies. Another sigh escaped her, this one heavier than the last before the waitress returned with her order. "Here you are. I'm sorry for the wait. We're a bit busier today than we normally are." the waitress said in a warm and apologetic tone as she set everything on the table. Marabella smiled back just as warmly and shook her head softly after lifting it from her hand. "Thank you, and it's alright. You seem to be a bit short-staffed." she spoke as warmly as her smile. A smile found its way to the waitress's lips as Marabella spoke warmly to her. "Yes, Ma'am. We are quite short-staffed today. We weren't expecting to have such a busy morning." the waitress said with a small laugh. "Anyway, I better get back to work before my boss yells at me." With a little laugh in her throat, the waitress turned and left Marabella's table. Marabella watched the young woman for a moment before picking up her cup and bringing it to her lips and taking a sip, then let out a soft sigh as she brought it from her lips and back to the table. She then nibbled on the food she had ordered as she went back to quietly watching the people coming and going from the Grill, making sure to not make it too obvious. She would occasionally listen in on some of the conversations going on around her, just to see if she could pick up on anything interesting or find what had led her here.</s> <\|message\|>Skarlett Mikaelson She started to rush past Damon grabbed her, holding her against her will. " Damon, let me go, " I groaned as I struggled to break free. " You are not going to kill your brothers." Damon answered and his arms grew tighter against me. Skarlett let out a huff of defeat and sighed. Damon unwrapped his arms and gently kissed her head. ( Sorry this was short, I don't have a lot of time)</s> <\|message\|>Marabella Swan Marabella Swan Marabella continued to sit at a table in the Mystic Grill, watching and listening to the people that came and went. After finishing what she had ordered, she began to grow bored of the people and atmosphere. Calling over the waitress and getting the check, she paid her and even gave her a decent tip. Standing from the table Bella made her way through the building, out the door, and outside, taking a deep breath once she was back outside. Moving away from the door, she looked around the town as she decided what she should do. Should she wander around town to see what was new? Should she find the Salvatores, or should she just linger around the Grill and see who or what crossed her path? Sighing heavily, she settled on roaming around town and getting a feel for the town and its residents. Picking a random direction, she began to walk, taking in everything the town had to offer. It was almost surprising how some things had changed while other things hadn't changed one bit after all the time that had passed since she was last in Mystic Falls. It actually made her laugh a bit to herself and even shake her head. It was as if time had slightly stood still in certain parts of the town. She could still vividly remember what each building used to be, which some were still the same today. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her black jacket, she continued on her way with a light hum and a small smirk resting on her lips.</s> <\|message\|>Frederick Steros Frederick Steros rode into town in a black 1977 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am. The vampire siphon was a stickler for old muscle cars. The deep rumble reminded him of hoof beats. As much as he enjoyed his 2-door convertible, he couldn't help but miss the good old days when people used to ride horses. Though he was well aware a horse couldn't go zero to sixty in nine point two seconds. Not without a little magical interference. Fredrick drove down the main strip. Windows down, and fingers drumming the outside of his door. This sleepy town never ceased to surprise Fred. There always seemed to be some magical catastrophe on the horizon. Hell, he noticed the Originals made the trip from New Orleans to Mystic Falls a lot more than he would expect of some backwater town. It was one of the reasons he had come. He wanted to see what all the fuss was about.</s> <\|message\|>Johnathan Mercer -John Mercer- A soft, gentle breeze whispered through the treetops as John slowly trotted up the main path snaking through the surrounding wilderness until he came upon the old cemetery, just mere miles from his family's ranch. Sliding off the saddle of his trusty steed Blackjack, he reached into the saddlebag and pulled out a bouquet of sunflowers, checking them first to make sure they weren't crushed or broken in any way. Then, he made his way up the small, sloping hill to the old wrought iron fence surrounding the scattering of old tombstones and wooden crosses, some dated as far back as 1860, when his great grandpa's family first settled in Mystic Falls. The tall, green grass was as high as his boots as he stepped through the wooden archway and knelt before a grave. He took off his hat, brushing the few stray tears from his eyes, then sighed with a saddened smile upon his rugged face, "Hey mama." He set the bouquet on his mother's grave, swallowing to push down the waves of pain that were crashing against him. "Well...here we are fourteen years later. I still miss you like it was yesterday. I just thought I'd drop by and say hello. Bring you some flowers." After about an hour or so of talking to his mother's grave, he soon stood up and stretched, setting his hat back on his head. "Well, I better get going before dad gets worried. He'll probably think I ran off drinking again." John laughed. "Goodbye, mama. I love you." He placed a small kiss on the inside of his hand and set it on the top of the gravestone before making his way down the hill, climbing up in his saddle and grabbing the reins tightly in his calloused hand, using the other to pet his horse's shimmering black mane. "Alright Blackjack, let's go to work." Later on, after a hard day's work wrangling cattle, John decided to mosey into town for a bite to eat. As customary, both windows of his blue 2011 Ford F150 were rolled down as he sang along to some Cody Jinks belting out of the speakers. He soon pulled his truck into the parking lot of the Mystic Grill and killed the ignition, stepping out and adjusting his Stetson atop his head before slamming his pickup door lightly and strolling up the sidewalk to the front door. As he was about to enter the establishment, he noticed a particularly attractive young woman heading his way. He smiled and opened the door for her. "Allow me, darlin'." He said, his voice thick with a country drawl. @Wolvena The woman seemed to pay him no mind as she briskly walked past the young cowboy, but John just assumed she had something important to get to and wasn't trying to be rude. Still, he had to admit the blonde was good-looking. Maybe he would bump into her later. It was a small town, after all, Mystic Falls. Approaching the counter, John tipped his hat to the waitress and gave a friendly smile as he sat down, putting both elbows on the countertop. "Your usual, Johnny?" Said the young waitress. John nodded back, "Yes ma'am, and don't skimp on the gravy." He chuckled. While he waited, his eyes trailed about the sleepy little diner. Sitting next to him was a police officer, casually sipping his coffee as he read the local paper, a half-eaten club sandwich resting on his plate. In one of the booths nearby, a few old men laughed and smoked cigars, talking about the good old days, while in another booth, a young couple was getting a little too intimate with each other despite being in the public eye. John just shook his head and paid them no further attention. Kids, he wondered. "Here you go, Cowboy." Cooed the waitress with a smirk as she set a plate before him, a golden brown chicken fried steak smothered in gravy with mashed potatoes and green beans on the side. John's mouth was already watering, his stomach growling excitedly with anticipation. "Thank you, ma'am. Looks wonderful. Smells good too." He joyfully responded before digging into his first bite. You just couldn't beat good home cooking like this he thought as he savored the delicious aroma and the tenderness of the meat. After John finished his meal, the cop beside him slowly stood up and began reaching for his wallet. "Oh don't worry about that, mister. I'll pay for you." Said John quickly. The police officer gave him a funny look but replied, "Well thank you, sir." "No sir, thank you." Said John tipping his hat. "You boys do a lot for this town. The man smiled and gave a curt nod to John before walking away. John soon got up himself, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket and setting a few twenties on the bar. "Just keep the change, darlin'." He chimed to the waitress in the back before turning around and stepping outside. The sun felt warm on his face, despite the cool breeze that was wafting through the streets, culminating with the sound of birds chirping and cars quietly passing by, the idle chatter of people walking up and down the sidewalks. It was all oddly peaceful to the young cowboy. It made John wonder why his brother Tommy hated this place, why he was so fired up about leaving Mystic Falls for the big city. Last he had heard, Tommy was a big-time lawyer up in New York. He didn't have time to visit John or their dad either, not that he would have cared to make any John pondered a tad bitter. Still, he wasn't going to let any negative thoughts of his brother ruin his day. Climbing back in his pickup, he started the ignition, the engine rumbling to life amidst another country tune playing through John's stereo. This time, it was the Turnpike Troubadours' Good Lord, Lorie. John smiled to himself and hummed along as he put his truck in gear and backed out onto the street. Since it was such a lovely day, he figured he'd just drive around a bit before he had to get back to work.</s>	<\|message\|>Frederick Steros Frederick Steros was enjoying his drive through the sleepy town of Mystic Falls. Until some country bumpkin pulled out right in front of him, in a blue 2011 Ford F-150. Forcing Frederick to slam on the brakes. He swore to himself quietly. His fingers going from casually drumming the side of his antique muscle car, to flip off the careless country driver. He waited for the cowboy to drive on, before muttering to himself. "Motus." With a subtle swish of his fingers, as he lowered his hand to continue drumming his fingers on the side of his car, he burst the rear left tire of the blue Ford. He took great care not to draw undue attention to himself. Simply, carefully overtaking the blue truck and carrying on his way. He had business that needed to be handled with the Salvatores.</s>
<\|description\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Age: 37</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Sam hadn't meant to injure Eddie, but he couldn't say he was particularly upset to have hurt a werewolf. This was however, not a good thing for their survival as right now he was in the entirely insane predicament of needing this beast's help. At least for now, they were both still alive. Given what Eddie had told him, he couldn't say the same for the rest of his team and who knows who else in the hotel was a casualty of this mess. He hadn't failed a mission this bad since he was just a recruit. He waited and watched as the other patched himself up, but not letting his guard down and ready to shoot again if someone walked up on them. When Eddie started talking about a plan, he listened and couldn't help but wonder why he was being so vague. And then Eddie asked Sam if he trusted him. Trust a werewolf? The very idea was ludicrous and yet, Sam didn't have a whole lot of options then. His training told him he should just put a bullet in the werewolf's head right now and find a way to get himself out. But now, even knowing for sure about the other's true nature, there was some nagging thought in the back of Sam's mind that still saw the humanity in Eddie that he'd witnessed all night and for the last few days observing him. Surely that was worth something? Hell, Sam had shot him and Eddie still hadn't turned on him or lost himself in some kind of beastly rage like Sam would typically expect from a werewolf. "Trust might be stretching it, but I like our chances better together." He said, deciding he was ready to go along with Eddie.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie stared at the man, trying to get a read on the stranger. He couldn't tell if the other person was lying and would just shoot him when he turned his back, but he had few options in the matter. Now that they know he's here, he needed help escaping. "That's something," Eddie muttered, "well since we'll be working together, can I at least know your name? You apparently already know mine." While waiting for the other person to answer, Eddie dragged the dead body into the room, checking the coast before closing the door. His gaze felt heavy as he got a good look at the dead person. He looked to be young, mid-twenties maybe. Still with so much life to live, and now he's dead. Clenching his hand into a fist, he closed the eye of the person then said, "I'm so sorry you had to die. Safe travels." Before standing up, he searched the body and found a gun hidden in the jacket. He gave it a sniff and recoiled from the scent, "Silver alloy," Eddie mumbled. It was an alloy created by werewolves to kill both, humans and other wolves. A deadly invention he wished didn't exist. "Here maybe you can take the ammo. It's 9 millimeters," Eddie said, then toss the gun over to the stranger. He then stood up and walked over to the door. He listened for any noise before opening it. "Coast is clear. After you," Eddie said with a glare.</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco "Sam." Sam answered plainly, when Eddie asked for his name. He supposed it was only fair at this point, especially if they were going to be working together to survive and escape. Though, once they made it out of there he was unsure of what would happen. But now was not the time to be thinking about that, there was still a chance they wouldn't make it out at all. Raising a brow, he watched as Eddie brought the body into the room and wished it's spirit safe travels. Perhaps this was some werewolf thing that Sam was unaware of but he couldn't imagine having any sympathy for that wolf losing it's life. Hunters like him didn't shed tears or say prayers for the beasts they put down. Those emotions were saved for fellow humans. Yet another thing that made it harder and harder to continue seeing Eddie as some kind of monster. "I wouldn't be too sorry, if he'd had it his way you'd be the one in his position." he said. Truthfully, if any of this had gone to plan, Sam would've had it that way too so perhaps he wasn't one to be judging. "I guess though, I can appreciate your respect for the dead." At least the other knew how to still look at this practically, another weapon in their hands was a good thing. "Resourceful." he acknowledged, catching the gun. This would help a lot, as Sam had left most of his gear- spare ammo included- with his team. In hindsight, that wasn't the best call. But truly, this whole mission had been fucked. He took the ammo and tossed the gun aside before turning to Eddie. His eyes narrowed as the other man suggested that he go first, a little suspicious that this could be some sort of set up. But both of them had plenty of reason to not trust the other. Sitting and squabbling over petty things would only result in both of their deaths and well, he supposed he had already given Eddie enough warning of what to expect should he try anything. Giving the other man a nod, he walked past him into the hall. They didn't know what may lie in wait for them on the floors below. The elevator would be the quickest and easiest way to reach the third floor, if it was still working. Sam walked down the hall with a fairly quick pace, gun in his hands and ready for whatever may come their way. He also remained aware of Eddie following behind him, still ready in case this did go bad. Upon reaching the elevator he pressed the button, but then moved back as he waited for it to come to their floor. After all, they didn't know who might be on that elevator. When the doors opened, it was lucky for them that the inside was empty. Well, almost. The walls, floor and ceiling of the elevator car were all painted a gruesome shade of red, covered in blood. Two bodies lay on the floor, which Sam barely recognized as two of his teammates. Death was not all that uncommon in their line of work, but Sam would be lying if he said he wasn't a little shaken up by it. As the leader of their team, he couldn't help but feel responsible for the way things turned out. Walking into the elevator, he sighed a shakey breath. "You fought well, I'm sorry I failed you.." He said said softly before returning his attention to Eddie. "Well, it's not ideal... But this is our ride down." Once the other got on the elevator, he pushed the button for the third floor. However, this would not be their first stop as just after passing several floors, they stopped on the fifth floor.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō "Don't you dare speak ill of the dead," Eddie growled when Sam made his comment about the dead, "and I doubt that. He was barely a puppy out of the den. I doubt he stood a chance if we fought. even a fragile human like you could beat him." Eddie was a little surprised when Sam agreed to go first. He would have thought that Sam would've put up some sort of fight, not that he was complaining. After Sam left the room, Eddie closed the door and followed the man to the elevator. It was the quickest way down, but it would not have been his first choice. They would be forced to fight if they encounter another rogue entering the elevator. Though he didn't complain. It was an option, and they had very few at the moment. Eddie's eyes widen when the door to the elevator opened. Blood and chunks of flesh covered the inside of the tiny space. Two dead bodies ripped to shreds sat on the floor. He nearly recoiled from the stench of blood but stopped himself. What came as a shock was that these were Sam's squad. Organized and well quieted. Who did Sam work for, and what reason did they have for hunting werewolves? "I'm sorry for your loss," Eddie said quietly before stepping onto the elevator. The ride down was tense and gruesome. His enhanced sense did not help with the smell and the danger of encountering another rogue, made for a less than enjoyable ride. Eventually, the door of the elevator opened, but it wasn't the third floor as intended, but the fifth and on the other side of the door were three men, three werewolves. Eddie did not hesitate to punch the unsuspecting person in the face. He could feel bones cracking as the person fell to the ground. Knocked out from the blow "I got the one to the left," Eddie yelled as he tackled the person to left. He shoved them back but was unable to knock them down. "Fucking bastard," the man yelled as he drew his gun. Eddie grabbed the man's wrist raising to the ceiling as several gunshots were fired. With a crushing grip, Eddie forced the gun to drop before pulling the man forward. He grabbed the person's head, quickly slammed it into his knees, causing the man to drop with a heavy thud. Eddie made sure to not cause any fatal injuries, something he doubt Sam would appreciate.</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Sam had to admit, he had doubts about Eddie's reflexes before when the other hadn't quite managed to dodge his bullets but those doubts were quickly cast aside when the elevator doors opened. Any thoughts he had that the other might be working with the group of werewolves was also now looking less likely. Frankly, a little caught off guard from the sudden stop and still a bit distracted by being surrounded by the gory remains of his squad mates, he suddenly found himself in an altercation as he was grabbed by the werewolf to the right and pulled from the elevator. However, it did not take him long at all to then react to the situation. In a fight with a werewolf, there was little to no room for hesitation. Shoving the other man off of him, Sam gave him a hard kick in the knee resulting in a loud "crack" as the man's bones were forced to bend in ways they shouldn't, breaking. As the man collapsed to the ground, Sam drew his gun and aimed it at his head. Unlike his wolven, temporary team mate, Sam had no intentions of resolving any of this less than lethally. Fuck the job at this point, this was revenge. "For Mikey and Rachel." He said as he pulled the trigger. Given Eddie's reaction to the last werewolf he'd killed, he was sure the other wouldn't be so happy. But at the moment he wasn't thinking about Eddie's feelings, and as long as the other didn't stand in his way that was all he cared. With the other two attackers on the ground, he looked to Eddie. "For someone who's supposed to be a werewolf you sure are bad at killing." he said. "But no matter, it would be my pleasure to finish the job." Saying this, he then aimed his gun at one of the unconscious men's heads.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie closed and eyes and looked away when Sam took his revenge on his opponent. The sound echoed through his head several times reminding him who he really was working with, a remorseless werewolf hunter. He looked back when the noise left his head only to see Sam lined his gun with the unconscious werewolf's head. He quickly grabbed the barrel of the gun forcing it away from the unconscious person. His grip was so tight that there was an audible crack to the metal casing of the gun. He looked Sam in the eye, his own glowing amber with emotions. "Whatever you may think of us werewolves but we are still people, people with family and loved ones," Eddie's voice was quiet and pleading. He knew flighting the man would be pointless and leave both of them dead, so he can only hope Sam had some sympathy left in him. "So please. Just leave them." Eddie stayed stubborn, gripping the man's gun and threatening to crush it into pieces. He was not going to back down from this, though time was ticking. He had no doubt the other rogues would have heard the gunshots by now. They would be on their way, so he needed to convince Sam quickly. "Killing them won't bring your allies back. It will only cause you to spiral. You were willing to work with me, so I know you have some…humanity left in you."</s>	<\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Sam glared at the other man when he was stopped just before he could pull the trigger. He couldn't understand why Eddie felt such a way about the very people who were trying to kill them, and after seeing what they had done in the elevator. In his training as a hunter of the Red Hoods, it had been drilled into him that the only fate such beasts as these deserved was death and yet here Eddie was suggesting that they deserved to have lives as humans do. Family? Loved ones? It...honestly hadn't ever even occurred to Sam that werewolves had anyone they cared about other than themselves. Even in his rage, this idea gave him some pause. And when Eddie spoke of humanity, Sam frowned. Who was he to speak of humanity? Yet, Sam couldn't deny that the other had a point, it wouldn't bring back his squad. Not only that but they were running out of time. Relaxing his grip on the gun, Sam took his finger off the trigger. "They deserve to die." He said, though with significantly less conviction in his voice and even some doubt, though he wasn't yet ready to admit that to himself. "But...we need to get out of here." He looked around the hall and pointed over to a sign on the all. "Stairs are that way. Not worth trying the elevator again, we're close enough." Every second that passed made their situation more precarious. Beyond the werewolves, he was sure it wouldn't be long before the police showed up if they hadn't already. And while the Hoods may see themselves as serving out their own form of justice, they weren't necessarily a legally sanctioned group. Once the other released his gun, Sam started down the hallway towards the stairs. They passed the 4th floor on their way down but Sam caught a glimpse of the hall and saw 2 more men, who he could only presume were also werewolves searching for them.</s>
<\|description\|>Arashi Kudō Age: 48</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco It had been 2 days since Sam arrived in the city and he was already ready to leave. He was starting to think that the agency really fucked up their intel this time, as not once on any of his missions had he ever seen a werewolf capable of blending in with human society. Sam was a hunter for the Red Hoods, sometimes just called the Hoods, an organization that put together teams of hunters to track down and rid the world of werewolves using information from The Forestry, an intelligence agency. He had worked for them for about 8 years now, and had started in the bottom ranks. Now he was a team leader, code name Red, of a squad of 6. Normally, their hunts were quite different- usually they involved fast chases throughout the woods, lots of fighting and danger. Sometimes they happened in towns, or cities, and it was even more chaotic. But not this time. This time, the Red Hoods wanted this done with precision. The less collateral damage the better, and the more low key the better. Beyond not wanting too cause undue trauma to the surrounding population, they also wanted to avoid causing any panic that werewolves now lived among humans. Though, despite the intel he'd received, Sam was not convinced that was even true. "Can't believe this shit." He grumbled under his breath, as he played with his lighter in his hand. This had to be the worst job they ever took, he had never spent so much time waiting around in his life. But this stake out was crucial to making sure their mission went off without a hitch. Sam was currently waiting in an alley across the street. His squad members were positioned at various other points in pairs of two. "The least Boss could've done is gave us some money for some food. Unfair to put us within smells distance of a bakery and we can't even partake in a little undercover and try some of the goods." Said Grimm, real name Mikey, over the radio. Sam rolled his eyes. "I know you're hungry but you really want dog food?" Sam radioed back, smirking on his end. It was getting to be evening, if it was the same as the previous night the owner- their target- should be getting ready to close up shop for the night any time now. "Any signs of BB?" BB- Big Bad, the code name they used for their target. "Nada. But I will let you know." Grimm replied.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō "Martin, why don't you leave early tonight. I can close up by myself. You can stay clock into if you like," Eddie said, his accent still thick despite living in the US for over 2 decades. "Are you sure boss?" Martin said, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of leaving early. Martin is one of those kids who had a bad raising, got into some trouble, and ended up in juvie. After that, his parents disowned him, and now he was living alone despite being only 18 and not even out of high school. Eddie took pity on the kid and gave him a job despite not needing the help. Mother did always say people like Martin will change the world and he wanted to be part of that. "Yes, I am sure Martin. Kana and Kazue are sleeping over with a friend so I don't need to be home early. Go and don't get into any trouble, you hear?" Martin said. "I won't, and thank you!" Martin quickly gathered his things, and before he left, Eddie gave the kids a twenty for dinner. He didn't even give Martin the time to answer before pushing him out the door. Martin gave a light sigh and a shake of his head before returning to his work, which happened to be a bunch of paperwork to get ready for the holiday season. It was a slow and laborious process coupled with the quietness of the store and the lack of customers made it all so much worse. As the hours passed, Eddie found himself wanting to fall asleep, that was until the bell of the door echoed through the store. He perked up like a dog and looked over to see a mother coming through with several children bouncing after her. "Wow look at all the cookies!" "Mom I want that one!" "Mom look at this one it's a dog!" The store was immediately filled with laugher and excitement as the children ran around the store, looking at all the sugary sweets. A few of them knocked over the decorations as they ran, causing them to get an ear full from their mother. Eddie couldn't help but smile while watching them. It reminded him of when his girls were still small. Emma, the oldest was away in college studying medicinal while the younger ones, Kana and Kazue, a pair of twins, were in their teens years and practically out of the nest. What he would do to have a house full of kids running around again. If only that was possible. The excitement in the store only grew as the kids picked out what they want, and brought them to the counter. "I'm so sorry about them. Giving them more sugar might not be the best idea," The mother said apologetically as she brought over a large decorated cake as well as what the kids picked out. "No worries. Children must be children," Eddie said with a warm smile. He checked out the cake and gave what the kids picked out for free. After bagging up the cake and handing the kids their sweets, he walked them out of the store. "Now kids, what should you say to your mother?" "Thank you mom!" all of them said in unison. "And you have a good night," He said to the mother before opening the door for them. All of the kids funned through and ran back to their car in excitement. Their mother gave him another apologetic look before running after them. Eddie waved them goodbye and was about to close the door when his nose picked up something strange, gunpowder? He looked around the area, his eye narrowing in suspicion. He tentatively closed the door and flipped over the open sign. He quickly cleaned up and left. Something in the pits of his stomach told him it was going to be a rough night.</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco It was when the mother and children entered the store that Sam decided to move to a slightly different position, climbing up a fire escape to get a better vantage point. This way he could better direct his teams when it came time to move in. Shouldn't be too much longer now. "Hm," Sam hummed thoughtfully to himself, watching as the mother left with her children. Maybe the extra caution they were told to take with this mission wasn't completely unwarranted. After all, the other hunts that took place in cities usually led to a lot of carnage. He caught a brief glimpse of the target in the doorway and looked through the scope of his gun to get a closer look. This was definitely their target, but still Sam was having a hard time believing it. The guy looked so…normal. Hell, he looked practically harmless, just an average dude. If this guy turned out to be a normal human, there was going to be hell to pay back at The Forestry. What an absolute disaster that would be. He watched as the man looked around the area, waiting to see if he would be noticed though confident he couldn't be made from his position. He didn't appear to be spotted but he could tell the guy knew something was up. He watched the guy then go back inside and flip the sign over. "BB sighted. Stand by." he confirmed to his team over the radio. Once the man left for the night it was time to go. "Okay- follow with caution, Big Bad is leaving Grandma's House." Now it was time for him to move too. Heading down the fire escape, he followed from a distance, one of his teams would follow from the rooftops covering the rest of them as a sniper. Sam usually just directed his teams, and often they were the ones to go in and make the kills. But this mission was different so it called for different tactics. Sam wanted to get up close this time, to be sure they really had the right guy. This guy didn't look like a monster, and Sam only killed monsters. It was only just evening, so the city was still a little bit busy but there were less people on the streets than before. This was ideal. Sam was hoping to track the werewolf home, but at least if a fight broke out before that there would be minimal collateral damage.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie carefully watched his surroundings as he headed down the busy streets. He felt eyes on his back and a strange tingling down his spine, something was trailing him or several something. Please don't be another feral. He had to deal with one barely a month ago, and his wounds still haven't fully healed. They were becoming more common and dangerous as of late. It would be more trouble than he would like to deal with tonight. "Damnit," Eddie mumbled, realizing he can't go home tonight. It would put his entire family in danger if a feral found where it lived, hell if anything found where he lived. Eddie lets out a long sigh and decided to make a pit stop at a liquor store to pick up a cheap bottle of scotch before heading out again. He checked into a nearby hotel and immediately collapsed onto the bed. He hated this life, of course, the genes skipped a generation, so none of his family knew what he is. He just needed someone, anyone, to share his struggles or, at the very least, not think he's crazy when he told them he's a werewolf. Groaning, Eddie got off his back, grabbed the bottle of scotch, and took a big swig, feeling it burn on the way down. Another downside to being a werewolf, alcohol did nothing other than taste good. Eddie set down the bottle and entered the bathroom for a long hot shower. Maybe that will help his nerves. Nearly 30 minutes later, Eddie left the bathroom in nothing but a towel. He poured himself a glass of scotch before stepping out onto the balcony, groaning as the cold night wind brushed against his bare skin. The season was beginning to turn, meaning his wolf was going to become more active, meaning more trouble was coming his way. Eddie pushed the fact he was facing imminent danger away and focused on the beautiful view in front of him. His room was on the 15th floor of a relatively high-class hotel. It was more expensive he liked, but hell, he is going to need it if there was going to be a fight tonight. Eddie began sipping on the alcohol while enjoying the view as he waited for whatever that was trailing him to come. Hopefully, they were quicker than not. He just wanted to get this over with. As much as he loved his daughters, he needed at least a day alone.</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco "Fuck." Sam swore under his breath as they headed into a busier part of town. The situation was getting a little riskier and Sam was almost tempted to delay their confrontation for another day, letting tonight just be a night of more recon. But he knew that wouldn't actually do them any good, they would continue to run into this same situation every day. If the Hoods hadn't insisted on taking a more cautious approach, they would've already gone in and eliminated the target by now. There would've been casualties, sure. But casualties were unavoidable it seemed. Continuing to follow, he watched as their target went into a hotel and he sighed. "Take point at the exits, I'm going in alone." he commanded over the radio. "You sure about that, Red?" one of his squad radioed back. "Yes, because I trust you guys to have my back." Sam said, and he meant it too. His team was dependable, and they had been through some pretty hairy situations together. "Grimm, I'm going to need you to watch my gear. Going to have to strip down for this." He wouldn't go in completely unarmed of course. But while his bulkiness might not catch much attention on the street, maybe just a weird look or two, it would make him stand out like a sore thumb in a luxury hotel. After dropping off his gear with Mikey, Sam headed into the hotel and over to the front desk. He had to now figure out where the target was and how to get to him, already concocting a story to get him in. "Hi, I'm here to see Eddie Kudo…" He held up his phone to show a picture. "We, uh, matched on Howlr and he invited me up to his room." The woman at the front desk's eyes went wide and her cheeks turned a bright pink. Flustered, she took a quick look at her computer. "Uhh, he's in room 1512…" She said, "But I should call him first to confirm." However, by the time she had gotten to the latter half of her sentence, Sam had already turned and headed straight for the elevator. He wasn't concerned about the lock. One of the few benefits to this nontraditional mission was that the Red Hoods had gone out of their way to supply them with extra tech for things like this, they were going to great lengths to assure no alarm was raised. Once he reached the 15th floor, he walked down the hall to the room. Luckily for him, there was no one else in the hallway. It took him a moment with the door, but he got it open and walked inside, surprisingly still in the form of a man. He raised his hands, to show he meant no harm. At least, not yet. He still didn't entirely believe that this man was a werewolf. "Do you know why I am here?"</s>	<\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie was growing impatient at the lack of action. He expected the feral to find him by now and attack or at the very least confront him. It usually worked this way. He makes himself visible to the feral, and sooner or later, it would come running trying to kill him. Wolves don't like it when other wolves enter their territory, so a beast running on pure instinct would be fuming at the fact he was here. And the reason he chose a place like this was to make sure the feral stayed human, giving him the upper hand. Eddie was so tense with anticipation that the ringing of the phone caused him to take a fighting stance. "Chikushou," Eddie mumbled as he walked over to the ringing phone. He picked up and said hello to be surprised by the reception lady. She told him about the Howlr situation, causing a deep blush to creep onto his face. It had been years since he even touched Howlr, and he certainly did not invite anyone up to his room. As he began to question the receptionist, the door to his room flung open as a scruffy looking man walked inside with his hands in the air. "Okay?" Eddie said, confused as to what was happening, "thank you for informing me ma'am. You have a good night" Eddie hung up the phone and turned to face the stranger that had just broken into his room. He certainly didn't smell like a feral and seemed to be more sane than the average beast. Through there was a strange aura to the man that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Was it the way he stood and conducted himself? His posture and form show that he wasn't your average civilian. There was also the same gun power smell he detected before. It was a scent that couldn't be covered up so easily and was a tall take sign of trouble. "No?" Eddie responded when the man questioned him. Eddie was beginning to feel extremely self-conscious being naked in front of the stranger. He only stayed naked because he expected a fight, and now that there wasn't one, it felt indecent. "Can I help you, sir? If you are here to steal something. I don't have anything. Other than a good bottle scotch," Eddie mused with a small chuckle. He gave the man a genuine smile as he waited for his next move. One would think to be afraid in a situation like this, but Eddie was confident he can take this man down if the need arises. There was also the fact the stranger asked him if he was why he was here.</s>
<\|description\|>Arashi Kudō Age: 48</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco When the man answered him in such a way, Sam lowered his hands slowly, keeping them at his sides. It wasn't exactly confirmation that this man was only a man, but he definitely was considerably more human than any of the beasts Sam was usually tracking down. It was very strange to say the least. And as he took in the situation, or rather as he took in the full sight of the other man standing there nude, it was also very awkward. Eddie was a bit bigger built than Sam, but Sam was accustomed to his targets being larger than him, though he wasn't typically around them in their human forms. At least, not for very long. "My, my, what big… eyes… you have.." he murmured to himself, clearing his throat as he glanced away. "I wish I could say I was here for something as miniscule as stealing…" Sam said, chuckling. Eyeing the scotch, he noticed it had been drunk but the man didn't appear to be even the slightest bit buzzed, he seemed fully alert and aware. "That is a nice bottle you got there though, how are you enjoying it?" Pushing the door shut, he stepped further into the room. "So it seems you and I have a bit of a dilemma now." he said, going over and sitting in one of the chairs by the window. "And neither of us can leave until we figure out a solution." Sam couldn't go back to the Red Hoods empty handed and without explanation, and he had left his team with instructions to kill on sight if they saw the target leave the building unless further instructed not to. "You see, I get paid to kill monsters. Are you a monster, Eddie?"</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie was beyond confused as to why the stranger was now quoting little red riding hood. It was barely above a whisper, and if he wasn't a werewolf he doubt he could have heard it. Because of this, Eddie decided to ignore it. There was still so much he didn't know. This stranger broke into his room with seeming knowledgeable about him. He wasn't just your average crook. "Then why are you here?" Eddie asked, but the question went unanswered. Instead, the stranger asked about his bottle of scotch. "It's okay. Could be a bit stronger," Eddie answers cautiously. Even if he mentioned it, it was still a strange thing to ask. If he thought about it, this entire situation was strange. When the stranger closed the door, Eddie let's put a sigh of relief. He did not need someone walking by to see him in nothing more than a towel. "Dilemma how?" Eddie asked while watching the man move across the room. He sat down by the window, which confused him even more. If this man was here to get something from him, then why would he give up his advantage by the door? It was the only way in or out of this room. Unless you want to jump out of the 10th floor. The next thing that came out of the stranger's mouth sent chills down Eddie's back. [i]Monsters[/1]. That word echoed in Eddie's head several times over as unwanted memories resurfaced. He has been called that more time than he could count and it doesn't get any easier. Could this man know about werewolves? How could he? Unless he was one himself, but Eddie was sure that the stranger was human. "Monsters? As in criminals? I can assure you I haven't vomited anything crimes. At least none that I know of," Eddie answered, not allowing his real reaction to show.</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Sam watched the other man carefully from where he sat. This whole interaction was so much different than even he imagined it to be. This was nothing like a usual werewolf hunt, this was much closer to a game of chess. He'd been hoping to stay as subtle as possible, so that way if his suspicions were right and the other was a human, then minimal information was leaked about the mission and potentially the whole organization. When Eddie answered him, he crooked a brow. So, this guy either didn't know or was playing dumb. Well, if it was true this guy is a werewolf then Sam supposed the Red Hoods were right to exercise caution with this mission. He had never met a werewolf this smart or patient. So far, it was seeming more and more like this guy was nothing to worry about but Sam knew better than to let down his guard when there was still no definitive answer to that. "Hmm, I suppose that's one way of putting it." Sam mused. Werewolves did often, in his experience, act in criminal ways. "But more specifically, werewolves." It was time to stop beating around the bush and get straight to it. His hope was that, if the the guy was a human, then maybe he and all this would just seem crazy. But if it did turn out that he was a werewolf, then well, Sam was ready to take him down. His hands were already resting right over where he was concealing his gun.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie stared wide eyes at the stranger when he said he was looking for werewolves. His suspicions were true. There are people out there that are aware of his kind, and he can only assume they are hunting him. Could the stranger be part of the government? Unlikely as they wouldn't risk fighting a war with people who can be anywhere, be anyone. Maybe a rebellious group of mythical? No, this man was one hundred percent human. So what could it be? Eddie's eyes narrowed at the man as he tried to think of his next words. "Werewolves? Like the movies? You cannot be serious," Eddie said, playing the ignorant human role to see if he can get anything else from the human. He was about to continue when the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He quickly spun around and stared at the door. There was a horrible stench in the air, and his instincts are telling him that there is danger. He knew this feeling well, there were rogues in the building and they are not far away. The same floor maybe, but definitely close. There also seem to be more than one by the intensity of their scent. What are they doing here? Rogues are the reject of werewolf kind usually for committing some crime. This made them undesirable for packs, organized groups of werewolves, and thus are outcasts. Most of them hold a grudge or resentment for being rejected and often hunt any wolves they can find. But why are they here? He usually didn't have problems with rogues since he wasn't part of a pack. Could they be here for the stranger? Eddie turned and looked back at the man before mumbling, "Fuking." He can tell there was murderous intent in the air. This is going to be a long night, "Fine, you win stranger. Yes, I am a werewolf," Eddie said against his better judgment, "Now listen. There are more werewolves in the building and they are not the nice ones. I can only assume they are hunting you. So unless you don't want to die, I suggest we work together."</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco When the other man at first continued to play dumb, Sam was almost convinced that they had the wrong guy. Damn it, what the hell kind of intel are we working with these days?! He thought to himself, sighing audibly. When Eddie spun around suddenly however, Sam raised a brow curiously, waiting and listening as he figured it had just been a noise from the hallway he'd missed at first, perhaps a knock on the door. But there was no noise, that he was aware of so he was unsure of what suddenly had the man alerted. He wasn't kept in the dark for too long though, and the info he was given was a lot to process. So they did have the right target, this guy really was a werewolf. From what Eddie said, Sam could only deduce that Eddie was one of the "nice" werewolves but such an idea seemed ludicrous. "No such thing as a nice werewolf." He said. And yet, he couldn't deny that Eddie wasn't particularly awful. Not once had Sam seen this guy act violently, his reactions were measured and cautious, and he seemed smart and even quite emotionally intelligent. Nothing like any werewolf Sam had encountered in his life. The thought of working together was certainly out of the question. After all, if the werewolf was this smart who's to say this wasn't all some kind of ploy to gain the upper hand now that he'd been caught? "Hold up." He said. Taking his radio from his pocket, he spoke into it, "Alpha team, what's your status?" There was no response. "Alpha team, do you copy?" Again, there was no response. This was not good. "Beta team, your status?" No response from them either, and his gut told him he'd only get the same response from the Omega team. And suddenly it sank in that Eddie could very well be right. His team were plenty capable on their missions, but for this one they'd been expecting only a single werewolf and they had expected to deal with it quietly. They were not prepared to deal with multiple werewolves, and probably had been caught off guard. He could only hope they were still alive, but for now he needed to focus on his own survival. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" This was absolutely a worst case scenario. But there was no time to be angry. Sam gave Eddie a hard look, pulling out his gun as he then said, "These better not be friends of yours furball, or else I will put a silver bullet in every one of your heads." If his team was dead & he made it out of there, he still might. "Now, I don't suppose you have a plan?" Things were about to really go off the rails, so much for being discreet. However, before anything else could be discussed, there was a knock on the door. Then, an even louder bang and after that a loud crash the door came down. "Get down!" Sam shouted, giving Eddie only enough time to do so before before he opened fire.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō "You're not wrong, there are no nice werewolves. There are those who resign to live in their own world and there are those who want to rule the world," Eddie mutter. His hands weren't clean, probably more stained with blood than those who were hunting them, but he refrained from mentioning that. The stranger didn't need another reason to not trust him. Not saying anything else, Eddie walked over to the pile of clothes that were neatly folded on the nightstand. Without hesitation, he dropped his towel and began to get dressed. He didn't care that the stranger saw everything he had to offer now that their lives are at risk. As he got dressed he couldn't help but be concerned at the other man's distress. "I wouldn't get your hopes up. Rogues don't take prisoner," Eddie mumbled as if he knew from personal experience. Though he couldn't believe this man brought 3 separate teams to hunt down one werewolf. This made him rather glad they didn't clash because the last thing he wanted was to kill humans. "Excuse me? Furball?" Eddie swung around glared at the man only to see him holding a gun which he presumed was loaded with silver. Grumbling something incoherent, Eddie turned away and put on the rest of his clothes. When the man asked about a plan, Eddie stopped and thought about it. He didn't have a plan other than surviving the night to see his daughters again. He couldn't live with the thought of leaving them alone. Lost in through, he didn't hear the footsteps getting closer or the knock on the door before it was too late. Several shots were fired. Pain shot through his arm as he dove to the side. "Fucking," Eddie growled as his side hit the ground. He clutched the bullet shot on his upper arm, holding in several more curses. With quick haste, Eddie dug into his arm and pulled out the bullet that burned like fire. He quickly threw it to the side before letting out a sigh of relief. The silver left a stinging sensation inside his wound and on his fingers. He did not miss the feeling of silver. Eddie didn't hover for long before jumping to his feet. He looked over at the door to see a dead body on the ground, bright red blood already pooling on the carpet. "Guess it's too late to talk," Eddie mused as he ripped a portion of the sheets to use as a bandage. He bit down on his teeth as he tried the makeshift bandage around his wound. That silver was prohibiting any of his natural healing which meant he had to endure the pain for a while, a long while. "Okay, you asked about a plan. If we get to the third floor then I have an idea,' Eddie said but not giving any more information on it. If he did, he was 100% sure the man would refuse. Hell, he could probably refuse. "Do you trust me?"</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Sam hadn't meant to injure Eddie, but he couldn't say he was particularly upset to have hurt a werewolf. This was however, not a good thing for their survival as right now he was in the entirely insane predicament of needing this beast's help. At least for now, they were both still alive. Given what Eddie had told him, he couldn't say the same for the rest of his team and who knows who else in the hotel was a casualty of this mess. He hadn't failed a mission this bad since he was just a recruit. He waited and watched as the other patched himself up, but not letting his guard down and ready to shoot again if someone walked up on them. When Eddie started talking about a plan, he listened and couldn't help but wonder why he was being so vague. And then Eddie asked Sam if he trusted him. Trust a werewolf? The very idea was ludicrous and yet, Sam didn't have a whole lot of options then. His training told him he should just put a bullet in the werewolf's head right now and find a way to get himself out. But now, even knowing for sure about the other's true nature, there was some nagging thought in the back of Sam's mind that still saw the humanity in Eddie that he'd witnessed all night and for the last few days observing him. Surely that was worth something? Hell, Sam had shot him and Eddie still hadn't turned on him or lost himself in some kind of beastly rage like Sam would typically expect from a werewolf. "Trust might be stretching it, but I like our chances better together." He said, deciding he was ready to go along with Eddie.</s>	<\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie stared at the man, trying to get a read on the stranger. He couldn't tell if the other person was lying and would just shoot him when he turned his back, but he had few options in the matter. Now that they know he's here, he needed help escaping. "That's something," Eddie muttered, "well since we'll be working together, can I at least know your name? You apparently already know mine." While waiting for the other person to answer, Eddie dragged the dead body into the room, checking the coast before closing the door. His gaze felt heavy as he got a good look at the dead person. He looked to be young, mid-twenties maybe. Still with so much life to live, and now he's dead. Clenching his hand into a fist, he closed the eye of the person then said, "I'm so sorry you had to die. Safe travels." Before standing up, he searched the body and found a gun hidden in the jacket. He gave it a sniff and recoiled from the scent, "Silver alloy," Eddie mumbled. It was an alloy created by werewolves to kill both, humans and other wolves. A deadly invention he wished didn't exist. "Here maybe you can take the ammo. It's 9 millimeters," Eddie said, then toss the gun over to the stranger. He then stood up and walked over to the door. He listened for any noise before opening it. "Coast is clear. After you," Eddie said with a glare.</s>
<\|description\|>Arashi Kudō Age: 48</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie stared at the man, trying to get a read on the stranger. He couldn't tell if the other person was lying and would just shoot him when he turned his back, but he had few options in the matter. Now that they know he's here, he needed help escaping. "That's something," Eddie muttered, "well since we'll be working together, can I at least know your name? You apparently already know mine." While waiting for the other person to answer, Eddie dragged the dead body into the room, checking the coast before closing the door. His gaze felt heavy as he got a good look at the dead person. He looked to be young, mid-twenties maybe. Still with so much life to live, and now he's dead. Clenching his hand into a fist, he closed the eye of the person then said, "I'm so sorry you had to die. Safe travels." Before standing up, he searched the body and found a gun hidden in the jacket. He gave it a sniff and recoiled from the scent, "Silver alloy," Eddie mumbled. It was an alloy created by werewolves to kill both, humans and other wolves. A deadly invention he wished didn't exist. "Here maybe you can take the ammo. It's 9 millimeters," Eddie said, then toss the gun over to the stranger. He then stood up and walked over to the door. He listened for any noise before opening it. "Coast is clear. After you," Eddie said with a glare.</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco "Sam." Sam answered plainly, when Eddie asked for his name. He supposed it was only fair at this point, especially if they were going to be working together to survive and escape. Though, once they made it out of there he was unsure of what would happen. But now was not the time to be thinking about that, there was still a chance they wouldn't make it out at all. Raising a brow, he watched as Eddie brought the body into the room and wished it's spirit safe travels. Perhaps this was some werewolf thing that Sam was unaware of but he couldn't imagine having any sympathy for that wolf losing it's life. Hunters like him didn't shed tears or say prayers for the beasts they put down. Those emotions were saved for fellow humans. Yet another thing that made it harder and harder to continue seeing Eddie as some kind of monster. "I wouldn't be too sorry, if he'd had it his way you'd be the one in his position." he said. Truthfully, if any of this had gone to plan, Sam would've had it that way too so perhaps he wasn't one to be judging. "I guess though, I can appreciate your respect for the dead." At least the other knew how to still look at this practically, another weapon in their hands was a good thing. "Resourceful." he acknowledged, catching the gun. This would help a lot, as Sam had left most of his gear- spare ammo included- with his team. In hindsight, that wasn't the best call. But truly, this whole mission had been fucked. He took the ammo and tossed the gun aside before turning to Eddie. His eyes narrowed as the other man suggested that he go first, a little suspicious that this could be some sort of set up. But both of them had plenty of reason to not trust the other. Sitting and squabbling over petty things would only result in both of their deaths and well, he supposed he had already given Eddie enough warning of what to expect should he try anything. Giving the other man a nod, he walked past him into the hall. They didn't know what may lie in wait for them on the floors below. The elevator would be the quickest and easiest way to reach the third floor, if it was still working. Sam walked down the hall with a fairly quick pace, gun in his hands and ready for whatever may come their way. He also remained aware of Eddie following behind him, still ready in case this did go bad. Upon reaching the elevator he pressed the button, but then moved back as he waited for it to come to their floor. After all, they didn't know who might be on that elevator. When the doors opened, it was lucky for them that the inside was empty. Well, almost. The walls, floor and ceiling of the elevator car were all painted a gruesome shade of red, covered in blood. Two bodies lay on the floor, which Sam barely recognized as two of his teammates. Death was not all that uncommon in their line of work, but Sam would be lying if he said he wasn't a little shaken up by it. As the leader of their team, he couldn't help but feel responsible for the way things turned out. Walking into the elevator, he sighed a shakey breath. "You fought well, I'm sorry I failed you.." He said said softly before returning his attention to Eddie. "Well, it's not ideal... But this is our ride down." Once the other got on the elevator, he pushed the button for the third floor. However, this would not be their first stop as just after passing several floors, they stopped on the fifth floor.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō "Don't you dare speak ill of the dead," Eddie growled when Sam made his comment about the dead, "and I doubt that. He was barely a puppy out of the den. I doubt he stood a chance if we fought. even a fragile human like you could beat him." Eddie was a little surprised when Sam agreed to go first. He would have thought that Sam would've put up some sort of fight, not that he was complaining. After Sam left the room, Eddie closed the door and followed the man to the elevator. It was the quickest way down, but it would not have been his first choice. They would be forced to fight if they encounter another rogue entering the elevator. Though he didn't complain. It was an option, and they had very few at the moment. Eddie's eyes widen when the door to the elevator opened. Blood and chunks of flesh covered the inside of the tiny space. Two dead bodies ripped to shreds sat on the floor. He nearly recoiled from the stench of blood but stopped himself. What came as a shock was that these were Sam's squad. Organized and well quieted. Who did Sam work for, and what reason did they have for hunting werewolves? "I'm sorry for your loss," Eddie said quietly before stepping onto the elevator. The ride down was tense and gruesome. His enhanced sense did not help with the smell and the danger of encountering another rogue, made for a less than enjoyable ride. Eventually, the door of the elevator opened, but it wasn't the third floor as intended, but the fifth and on the other side of the door were three men, three werewolves. Eddie did not hesitate to punch the unsuspecting person in the face. He could feel bones cracking as the person fell to the ground. Knocked out from the blow "I got the one to the left," Eddie yelled as he tackled the person to left. He shoved them back but was unable to knock them down. "Fucking bastard," the man yelled as he drew his gun. Eddie grabbed the man's wrist raising to the ceiling as several gunshots were fired. With a crushing grip, Eddie forced the gun to drop before pulling the man forward. He grabbed the person's head, quickly slammed it into his knees, causing the man to drop with a heavy thud. Eddie made sure to not cause any fatal injuries, something he doubt Sam would appreciate.</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Sam had to admit, he had doubts about Eddie's reflexes before when the other hadn't quite managed to dodge his bullets but those doubts were quickly cast aside when the elevator doors opened. Any thoughts he had that the other might be working with the group of werewolves was also now looking less likely. Frankly, a little caught off guard from the sudden stop and still a bit distracted by being surrounded by the gory remains of his squad mates, he suddenly found himself in an altercation as he was grabbed by the werewolf to the right and pulled from the elevator. However, it did not take him long at all to then react to the situation. In a fight with a werewolf, there was little to no room for hesitation. Shoving the other man off of him, Sam gave him a hard kick in the knee resulting in a loud "crack" as the man's bones were forced to bend in ways they shouldn't, breaking. As the man collapsed to the ground, Sam drew his gun and aimed it at his head. Unlike his wolven, temporary team mate, Sam had no intentions of resolving any of this less than lethally. Fuck the job at this point, this was revenge. "For Mikey and Rachel." He said as he pulled the trigger. Given Eddie's reaction to the last werewolf he'd killed, he was sure the other wouldn't be so happy. But at the moment he wasn't thinking about Eddie's feelings, and as long as the other didn't stand in his way that was all he cared. With the other two attackers on the ground, he looked to Eddie. "For someone who's supposed to be a werewolf you sure are bad at killing." he said. "But no matter, it would be my pleasure to finish the job." Saying this, he then aimed his gun at one of the unconscious men's heads.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie closed and eyes and looked away when Sam took his revenge on his opponent. The sound echoed through his head several times reminding him who he really was working with, a remorseless werewolf hunter. He looked back when the noise left his head only to see Sam lined his gun with the unconscious werewolf's head. He quickly grabbed the barrel of the gun forcing it away from the unconscious person. His grip was so tight that there was an audible crack to the metal casing of the gun. He looked Sam in the eye, his own glowing amber with emotions. "Whatever you may think of us werewolves but we are still people, people with family and loved ones," Eddie's voice was quiet and pleading. He knew flighting the man would be pointless and leave both of them dead, so he can only hope Sam had some sympathy left in him. "So please. Just leave them." Eddie stayed stubborn, gripping the man's gun and threatening to crush it into pieces. He was not going to back down from this, though time was ticking. He had no doubt the other rogues would have heard the gunshots by now. They would be on their way, so he needed to convince Sam quickly. "Killing them won't bring your allies back. It will only cause you to spiral. You were willing to work with me, so I know you have some…humanity left in you."</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Sam glared at the other man when he was stopped just before he could pull the trigger. He couldn't understand why Eddie felt such a way about the very people who were trying to kill them, and after seeing what they had done in the elevator. In his training as a hunter of the Red Hoods, it had been drilled into him that the only fate such beasts as these deserved was death and yet here Eddie was suggesting that they deserved to have lives as humans do. Family? Loved ones? It...honestly hadn't ever even occurred to Sam that werewolves had anyone they cared about other than themselves. Even in his rage, this idea gave him some pause. And when Eddie spoke of humanity, Sam frowned. Who was he to speak of humanity? Yet, Sam couldn't deny that the other had a point, it wouldn't bring back his squad. Not only that but they were running out of time. Relaxing his grip on the gun, Sam took his finger off the trigger. "They deserve to die." He said, though with significantly less conviction in his voice and even some doubt, though he wasn't yet ready to admit that to himself. "But...we need to get out of here." He looked around the hall and pointed over to a sign on the all. "Stairs are that way. Not worth trying the elevator again, we're close enough." Every second that passed made their situation more precarious. Beyond the werewolves, he was sure it wouldn't be long before the police showed up if they hadn't already. And while the Hoods may see themselves as serving out their own form of justice, they weren't necessarily a legally sanctioned group. Once the other released his gun, Sam started down the hallway towards the stairs. They passed the 4th floor on their way down but Sam caught a glimpse of the hall and saw 2 more men, who he could only presume were also werewolves searching for them.</s>	<\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie let out a sigh when Sam backed down. He was glad the man had some reason left in him and whatever organization he worked for hadn't brained washed him completely. That piece of information was still a mystery to him. He hadn't heard about any werewolf hunting organization, but the rogues surely had, and he had living proof next to him. "No one deserves to due Sam," Eddie said, then released the gun. He then agreed when Sam suggested that they needed to leave. He was even more glad when Sam suggested the stairs. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in that elevator with all that blood. As Eddie followed Sam down the stairs, he stopped between the fourth and third. He grabbed Sam's shoulder to stop him before looking around. It was too quiet. They are close to the ground floor and yet he can't hear anyone, no footsteps, no weapons being drawn, no radio being answered. Eddie listened for a moment longer before yelling, "RUN." Immediately the door to the third floor flung open as several armed men flooded the stairs. Eddie grabbed Sam, dragging him up the stairs and into the fourth floor. "They're human," he manage to say as they burst through the door where they were greeted by the two men from before. He paid them no mind and ran down the hall, still dragging Sam along with him. Instead of running to the other set of stairs, he broke down a room door and went inside. Luckily for them, it was empty. Eddie closed the door and stood against it, listening as the group of men ran past them towards the other set of stairs. "Right, this is the point I start to sound crazy. I can survive the jump from this floor even while carrying you. The question is do you trust me because there is no way we are escaping through the front door." He wasn't completely lying when he said that. While he could survive, he would not come out of it unscathed. It would hurt like hell for the next few weeks, but at least they will be alive.</s>
<\|description\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Title: Burning Heart Age: 16 Nationality: Japanese Bio: Suzuya was a girl who just wanted to start a school book club in her hometown of Miso when everything changed for. Staring down at a sheet of signatures, it's lack of any such names due entirely to her failure to ask anyone, she missed the bus that would not have just taken her home, but altered the entire course of her life. She was pulled from her fugue of self recrimination by a plea for help. An eerie, enchanting nose that evoked concern in her, pulling her from the bus stop as though she could make up for her social failings with a single act of compassion for her fellow man. Following the persistent cries lead her to an alley, where rather then a woman in distress she found a hyena like Pageless, braying with laughter amidst the cries of young girls, their voices mimiced by a beastial maw that reared back in an unkind smile. Terror crushed her in a vicegrip as the Pageless proved but one of many, claws raking across brickwork as they crawled down walls from rooftops and rose as though pulled from the shadows for the prospect of prey. Her story would have ended like countless others had there not been a savior pursuing the monsters, one that Suzuya never learned the name of. A hand clenched around her shoulder and hurled her away against the flank of a horse black as the night with a mane made of roaring flame. A Magical Girl clad in the heavy armor of a Samurai barred the way between her and the horde of Pageless, Suzuya glimpsing a face that was serene even as she struck her steed's flank and sent it galloping away with Suzuya curling herself upon it, abject horror and shock leaving her clinging like a lamprey even as it's fierce gallop shook her with every bound. The waning light of day had given way to night when the horse stopped, a mournful noise issuing forth before it flickered away like paper caught alight, dropping it's burden and a Grimoire to the careworn streets of Miso's outskirts. Suzuya took up this book, feeling the Grimoire connect to her, an understanding passing between them that this was the Samurai's, and now it was hers. A fire had been reported in Miso City that night, devouring abandoned tenements with not a soul in sight, but Suzuya knew better. She was still clutching the Grimoire to her chest when the first Magical Girls came to her home days later, telling her of the Grand Ministry and passing along to her parents the news she'd been selected for a foreign exchange student program that would offer her prestigious accolades on her student records. Suzuya packed her bags quietly, her life in freefall and changing faster then she had ever feared or dared to hope, and into the center of her Grimoire she left the folded form of a book club that hadn't been, a book mark in a literal sense. The tome was a weight on her chest, the burden of expectation she had shied away from once already. Her hands cradled the spine even as she ached to set it down, but she wouldn't let herself turn from this responsibility. She would carry this weight, and each day, little by little, the fire it stoked would remain outside her transformation. Or so she hoped. Heiki monogatari - Tale of Tomoe Gozen Classification: Fable Description: The Onna Musha, Warrior Woman, Tomoe Gozen was a devoted wife to her husband Yoshinori. So much so, rather then stay behind to defend their home, she fought beside him on the battlefield. A real life figure mixed with legend, rumors who have made her origin and ending fluid to the reader's preferences. What is held in certainty was that she was an exceptional warrior, master of the bow and the traditional woman's weapon of the Naginata, yet was said to favor the katana traditionally only allowed to samurai. She had the strength and skill matching a thousand men, and led an army just as large into battle alongside her husband. Her stories end comes with that of her husband's, as his successes mixed with incompetent leadership, resulting in his own family turning upon him out of jealousy. Their armies slaughtered till Tomoe Gozen stood amidst a party of six, they were faced with a vast host and her husband ordered she retreat. Whether it was an act of love or a desire not to be shamed dying besides a woman is up to interpretation, but she refuses and charges the armies. A heart that burns with life, that primal spirit that buoys all to greatness. With blade in hand she sang her story into the page's of fable and history, she cleaved the heads of her foes even as her husband lost his own. Monkhood. Revenge. A tapestry of conclusions woven by countless lines of ink on paper. And a head unbowed, always. Abilites: Onna Musha- Though not Samurai themselves, a woman of Japan was expected to defend themselves and their homes. Tomoe Gozen went a step beyond by taking to the field, and bore the burden of carrying added arms upon her person. This takes the form of Suzuya drawing weapons from her tails, the traditional tools of the era settling easy in her hands with skill of the original Tomoe Gozen flowing through her. Strength of Heart- Suzuya is a shy, uncertain girl, but upon transforming she is suffused with a confidence entirely unknown to her. It makes her brave beyond measure, pushing forward to cut down her enemies and stand against the injustices of the world. Honor Through Head Taking- The old belief that the head must be washed and honored for a soul to pass peacefully into the afterlife. By cleaving the heads of Pageless, Suzuya's heart beats faster, till her body is wreathed in the fires of her passion. A temporary but stacking increase in power embodying Tomoe Gozen's fearlessness in open warfare against overwhelming odds. Peerless Horsemaster- UNAVAILABLE. Tomoe Gozen's greatest feats were accomplished on horse back, capable of guiding a steed over the harshest terrain and slay enemies at full gallop without sacrificing any of her dexterity. The grimoire summons a steed worthy of her legend, but Suzuya is unable to mount the horse till it accepts her holding the grimoire.</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance BONNIE CHANCE Bonnie listed to Camelot's words and became more and more downcast. They were warriors who had drawn blades together on the battlefield... but no bonds of sisterhood had they? Wasn't it supposed to be that no-one was your family like those who bled for you? For those who "put the work in", so to speak? Well, of course there wasn't any value to her sword alongside Camelot's, she'd been nothing but trouble, defective, a problem in Camelot's eyes. "Mmm-" At first Bonnie offered little resistance to Camelot's inquisition "-eee!" But whether it was touching at a bruise that hadn't discolored yet, or simply having her shirt surprisingly raised, Bonnie did get some life sparked into her and she squirmed at Camelot's bold advance without waiting for permission. In truth, Bonnie wasn't too badly banged up, Camelot was a skilled swordswoman who had gotten to make her strike without resistance. Lilac who could tangle head on with the Pageless and slam them into the ground from the top of a building wasn't exactly a delicate flower, regardless of name. At Camelot's silence as she pondered things over, correct in conclusion if not in cause, Bonnie began to turn away, taking silence as permission to shrink away from Camelot's gaze. But her flight was halted, stunned in submission at Camelot grabbing her shoulders and forcefully telling her no. Bonnie's head was swimming, and a bunch of particularly loud dolphins were churning the waters. -Oh no, am I why Burning Heart and Camelot were fighting? Wait we're a team? But what was all that before about not being a team? Er... That wasn't a bad point about how a magical girl should act. But can I live up to that? Even Usagi got a chance to cry every now and then... especially Usagi. Oh god why was she listing off all her deficiencies, I know I suck! Really? Heart? That's what everyone says when they know you don't contribute. Someone with heart wouldn't be broken just because someone said they weren't your friend. Camelot knows I'm alone. But it's all pity. She doesn't like me, she just feels guilty that I'm sad. No one really wants to be friends with a sad person, they just want you to stop being sad. But at least she said the words, and even if it falls apart tomorrow...- There were so many things she wanted to say, so many directions her heart wanted to take her, dreams made and dying in the same moment. "Sorry! Sorry, I'm a mess aren't I. Not putting on a good display as a magical girl." Her eyes drifted for a moment to Dynasty Queen and longer to Burning Heart, ashamed of her appearance, no doubt she looked a fool losing her cool over something as silly as this. Then she turned back to Camelot. "I- I should be tougher than this, you're right. I'll try to bring it together for the rest of the patrol, leader. And-uh, of course I'll be your friend. Of course. Bonnie tried to smile. Because of course that's what you say. That's what everyone always says.</s> <\|message\|>Nessie Burns There was clear elation on Nessie's face as the cloaked Pageless' agonised cry rang out through the sky-turned-battlefield, though despite that she couldn't help but feel a chill run up her spine in a primal reaction to the spectral scream. It was other-worldly, wholly irregular and with such hatred and thirst for revenge behind it. The young witch could almost feel its claws resting on her shoulder from behind, ready to spitefully slice through her as soon as she looked at them. It was just a trick of the mind though, of course it was, playing on her paranoia and making the air around her just feel a little colder. Lumiere's words however, laced with an icy disgust of the shrieking monster, returned to the Lady of the Lake that sense of courage she had felt before when taking it on directly. And now that she'd had a closer look at it, its wounded form made it seem far less imposing than it had initially. Its cloak torn and peppered with holes from musket balls and its vulnerable heart pierced with those fine needles of rain, like miniature daggers embedded in flesh. But a wounded creature that knows it has nothing to lose, that knows its time is almost up, has the potential to be far more dangerous than it ever could have been previously. This was something Nessie would quickly realise as the Pageless made a sharp break for the leader of the group, tossing out dazzling lights that forced the young redhead to shut her eyes so tightly that she started seeing colours. "Lucette!" Nessie cried out in concern for her friend, blinking open her eyes until her vision cleared of the obtrusive flashing colours that had resulted from the desperate phantom's assault. But, upon seeing the result of said assault, the girl realised there had really been nothing to worry about. She watched in awe as, calm and composed, the leader of the quartet of Magical Girls spoke a few damning words to the captured Pageless, before bringing the caged creature over to her, Goodhope and Olivia. There, its judgement would be decided, if it hadn't been already. "Well, we can't communicate with it? Can we?" Though she was more than happy to assist in destroying the Pageless, after all it had rudely knocked her off her broom and tried to kill her friends as well, but she couldn't deny to herself that, if possible, it could be useful to speak with it in some way. She peered closely at their frozen foe in its prison, curiously studying it now that it was immobile. That being said, a momentary silence from her comrades was more than enough for the redhead to assume that such reasoning was impossible. "Let's just whack the bastard, give 'im hell." Nessie concluded, as the rain which poured around her now formed into something far larger than a needle, though with the same keen, piercing sharpness to it. As droplets swirled into place, the shape became more defined until the form of transparent, so in this case grey, spear was created. Perhaps influenced by Lumiere's solemn disposition, as well as a desire to just get the whole affair over with, there was no hesitation from the Lady of the Lake as she flung the spear right at the creature's exposed heart in an attempt to finish things there and then. Whether the others would join her in the effort was up to them.</s>	<\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Suzuya had to admit that Tesni could provide weapon's-grade passive agressiveness with impressive speed, turning from hot blooded combatant to the cattiest girl she'd even seen without sporting a spray tan and bleached blonde hair. And if an iota of it was directed at her she might have bristled at it, but being a bystander left her muted to the monkey's words. Camelot was not going to earn any praise from the Japanese Magical Girl for her handling of things, either in words or actions as both managed to hurt Lilac with visible effect. That all of this was public with a senior magical girl like Ozma around only made the shame of it burn her ears a cherry red as she tried to keep calm- Her hand was wrapped around the hilt of something deadly when the floral-named Magical girl yelped. Burning Heart narrowed her gaze and deliberately released the weapon back into her tail, chiding herself for succumbing to the alien desire for violence. What she wouldn't abstain from after seeing Lilac wilt under Camelot's words was stepping between the two girls and turning her back to Camelot so sharply her tails swung like ninetuple bludgeons of fluffy reprisal. And if they had the hardness of iron-banded cudgels to them, clearly Burning Heart was just a tad slow in withdrawing the weapons held in her tails. She was content with blocking Camelot as she enveloped Bonnie in a tight hug. "We needed only to fight shoulder to shoulder one time for me to call you my friend. You are kind and welcoming, like the first rays of the sun breaking the night, and though I am not happy to have left my home, I think it was worthwhile to have met my....first friend." The fox with the stalwart heart found herself faltering for the first time while transformed, ears drooping as embarrasment won out even over the Grimoire of the warrior wife. "So, you don't need to pretend for me. I, umm, did enough of that for all of us before I got my book. So let's get better at this Magical Girl duty together." Burning Heart said with cheeks the color of vibrant flame, her eyes wide and lips uncertain if she should be smiling or not. But what she held with absolute certainty was Lilac in her arms, finding there was no question to be asked on where her arms should be.</s>
<\|description\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Title: Burning Heart Age: 16 Nationality: Japanese Bio: Suzuya was a girl who just wanted to start a school book club in her hometown of Miso when everything changed for. Staring down at a sheet of signatures, it's lack of any such names due entirely to her failure to ask anyone, she missed the bus that would not have just taken her home, but altered the entire course of her life. She was pulled from her fugue of self recrimination by a plea for help. An eerie, enchanting nose that evoked concern in her, pulling her from the bus stop as though she could make up for her social failings with a single act of compassion for her fellow man. Following the persistent cries lead her to an alley, where rather then a woman in distress she found a hyena like Pageless, braying with laughter amidst the cries of young girls, their voices mimiced by a beastial maw that reared back in an unkind smile. Terror crushed her in a vicegrip as the Pageless proved but one of many, claws raking across brickwork as they crawled down walls from rooftops and rose as though pulled from the shadows for the prospect of prey. Her story would have ended like countless others had there not been a savior pursuing the monsters, one that Suzuya never learned the name of. A hand clenched around her shoulder and hurled her away against the flank of a horse black as the night with a mane made of roaring flame. A Magical Girl clad in the heavy armor of a Samurai barred the way between her and the horde of Pageless, Suzuya glimpsing a face that was serene even as she struck her steed's flank and sent it galloping away with Suzuya curling herself upon it, abject horror and shock leaving her clinging like a lamprey even as it's fierce gallop shook her with every bound. The waning light of day had given way to night when the horse stopped, a mournful noise issuing forth before it flickered away like paper caught alight, dropping it's burden and a Grimoire to the careworn streets of Miso's outskirts. Suzuya took up this book, feeling the Grimoire connect to her, an understanding passing between them that this was the Samurai's, and now it was hers. A fire had been reported in Miso City that night, devouring abandoned tenements with not a soul in sight, but Suzuya knew better. She was still clutching the Grimoire to her chest when the first Magical Girls came to her home days later, telling her of the Grand Ministry and passing along to her parents the news she'd been selected for a foreign exchange student program that would offer her prestigious accolades on her student records. Suzuya packed her bags quietly, her life in freefall and changing faster then she had ever feared or dared to hope, and into the center of her Grimoire she left the folded form of a book club that hadn't been, a book mark in a literal sense. The tome was a weight on her chest, the burden of expectation she had shied away from once already. Her hands cradled the spine even as she ached to set it down, but she wouldn't let herself turn from this responsibility. She would carry this weight, and each day, little by little, the fire it stoked would remain outside her transformation. Or so she hoped. Heiki monogatari - Tale of Tomoe Gozen Classification: Fable Description: The Onna Musha, Warrior Woman, Tomoe Gozen was a devoted wife to her husband Yoshinori. So much so, rather then stay behind to defend their home, she fought beside him on the battlefield. A real life figure mixed with legend, rumors who have made her origin and ending fluid to the reader's preferences. What is held in certainty was that she was an exceptional warrior, master of the bow and the traditional woman's weapon of the Naginata, yet was said to favor the katana traditionally only allowed to samurai. She had the strength and skill matching a thousand men, and led an army just as large into battle alongside her husband. Her stories end comes with that of her husband's, as his successes mixed with incompetent leadership, resulting in his own family turning upon him out of jealousy. Their armies slaughtered till Tomoe Gozen stood amidst a party of six, they were faced with a vast host and her husband ordered she retreat. Whether it was an act of love or a desire not to be shamed dying besides a woman is up to interpretation, but she refuses and charges the armies. A heart that burns with life, that primal spirit that buoys all to greatness. With blade in hand she sang her story into the page's of fable and history, she cleaved the heads of her foes even as her husband lost his own. Monkhood. Revenge. A tapestry of conclusions woven by countless lines of ink on paper. And a head unbowed, always. Abilites: Onna Musha- Though not Samurai themselves, a woman of Japan was expected to defend themselves and their homes. Tomoe Gozen went a step beyond by taking to the field, and bore the burden of carrying added arms upon her person. This takes the form of Suzuya drawing weapons from her tails, the traditional tools of the era settling easy in her hands with skill of the original Tomoe Gozen flowing through her. Strength of Heart- Suzuya is a shy, uncertain girl, but upon transforming she is suffused with a confidence entirely unknown to her. It makes her brave beyond measure, pushing forward to cut down her enemies and stand against the injustices of the world. Honor Through Head Taking- The old belief that the head must be washed and honored for a soul to pass peacefully into the afterlife. By cleaving the heads of Pageless, Suzuya's heart beats faster, till her body is wreathed in the fires of her passion. A temporary but stacking increase in power embodying Tomoe Gozen's fearlessness in open warfare against overwhelming odds. Peerless Horsemaster- UNAVAILABLE. Tomoe Gozen's greatest feats were accomplished on horse back, capable of guiding a steed over the harshest terrain and slay enemies at full gallop without sacrificing any of her dexterity. The grimoire summons a steed worthy of her legend, but Suzuya is unable to mount the horse till it accepts her holding the grimoire.</s> <\|message\|>Lucette Delacroix --The Verdict-- @Ponn @Villamvihar Though the verdict request was quite rhetorical, Lumiere wasn't surprised by the blonde's answer, in fact, she expected it, she was Ethereal Rose after all. The seraph didn't reply directly though, for the Pageless already did more than enough to show just how feasible it was to engage diplomacy with these creatures. Aye, try talking to something that was both non-sapient and actively malicious, it'd go as well as attempting to pet a rabid fox. Also as expected, Lady of the Lake and Captain Goodhope's reactions were more inline to what was proper, through these things might seem obvious, one must also remember that these girls were quite new compared to herself, inarguably so for Nessie, this being only her third day since a grimoire came to her. Again, the Pageless unwittingly answered the redhead's question. Truly, there was only one way to deal with dangerous pests, extermination. Lumiere took a step float back to let her students deal with the trapped Pageless as according to their verdicts. The Witch of Loch Ness commanded the aquatic aspect of the storm to form a veritable spear of water as it was flung into the clawed reaper's chest. At the same time, the Captain of the Flying Dutchman seemed to awaken... something within her core. Lumiere's veil and dress fluttered in the chaotic winds and if the angel could feel the blossoming radiance of hope from the twintailed blonde, she didn't show it, content to just stay in the background. And then in happened, a burst of thunderous power as Goodhope commanded the ionic aspect of the hurricane to summon multiple bolts of lightning. Fortunately for Lumiere, being blinded by light was never an issue, for the Light of God could never be outshone. Between the aqua lance and hail of lightning, the already-wounded Pageless was turned inside-out, utterly destroyed down to the last atom. Another foe of mankind put down, as it should. The seraph returned her obelisks to form into wings behind her back after, feeling the foreboding atmosphere clearing up following the alpha pageless's demise. "Excellent work, girls, you have done well." She gave an appreciate nod at each of them, Ethereal Rose & Xolys, Captain Goodhope, and Lady of the Lake, all received one, "We complement each other's abilities and as mankind have shown us throughout our history, camaraderie is the greatest tool that we have, against any and all odds, remember that you're never alone." She paused for a moment to let her words sink in before turning her gaze to another part of her English metropolis, "Speaking of which, let's see if our comrades need assistance." before accelerating toward the other patrol squad's location, expecting her own squad to follow suit.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Bell (Magical Maiden Ethereal Rose) @Villamvihar@Sonnambula In apparent response to Olivia's musings, the captive Pageless lunged in her direction, the resulting glow as it struck Lumiere's radiant barrier allowing the blonde beauty to catch a glimpse of the twisted visage beneath the creature's tattered cloak. "Oh my!" she exclaimed, more fascinated than frightened. "Are you actually a zombie?" she inquired as she studied what little of the creature's corpse-like features she could perceive. Unfortunately for the overly inquisitive maiden, her companions were far less interested in the idea of a possible Q&A session with what was obviously a being of pure hate and malice. Not wasting any time, the impetuous Lady of the Lake conjured a massive spear out of the surrounding rain water and drove it into the heart of the captive Pageless. Olivia was slightly taken aback by the suddenness of the attack, but that was nothing compared to her shock at what happened next… With a surprised gasp, Olivia's grip on Xolys tightened as a mighty gust of wind tore through the group, blowing her azure gown and golden tresses behind her. However, this was not the work of the still-contained Pageless, but rather one of their own number. They could all feel it, a swirling vortex of arcane power, centered on Captain Goodhope. Being closest to her, Olivia was able to hear the maritime maiden, who had until now remained silent, her eyes closed in prayer, give voice to a soft whisper. An instant later, the girl's Grimoire manifested in midair before her, its gilded cover shining like the beacon of a lighthouse. Taking hold of it, Wilhelmina employed the tome's noticeably heightened powers to conjure what was essentially a miniature hurricane, which, combined with Nessie's aqua spear, rapidly tore the captive Pageless to shreds. "Goodness me!" Olivia exclaimed. "That was amazing Helmi!" she told her friend excitedly. "And so very intense!" Lumiere proceeded to commend the team on their performance, after which Olivia gave the angelic girl a brilliant smile. "Thank you very much!" she told her team leader. "And I don't think I'll ever forget that," she added, gazing up at her eldritch consort. "Not with darling Xolys at my side!" At Lumiere's suggestion that they check up on Camelot's team, the otherworldly beast in question pivoted to fly after the silver-haired seraph, paying careful attention to ensure that his two passengers were safely secured. "I wonder if they encountered a Pageless as well…" Olivia mused aloud. If so, she was very curious to learn what it looked like, although whatever it was, she had no doubt that it wouldn't pose any threat to a team led by so strong and experienced a Magical Girl as Camelot.</s>	<\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha What followed after the team's run-in with Moonlight Tsubasa was less a patrol and more a tense walkabout the city. If any of them had the presence to truly be keeping an eye out for Pageless they didn't find anything, but it was more likely attention would be turned inwards, at least for Suzuya. At least the rainy weather was a familiar comfort, the soft crackle of rain evaporating against her bushy tails forming a steady background noise she savored. Even with the awkwardness of the other team flying by to check in on them. And for all her frustration and discomfort, Suzuya didn't say a word of it. Slipping into the role of the shy foreighner was easy when it served a purpose, and it let her reach the academy without any further attempts at provocation. And Suzuya was quite aware she'd tried to provoke a response at the stupidest time, nearly re-igniting the conflict they'd barely averted with her slap to Camelot. Pride was not something Suzuya was used to holding in high regard, but her Grimoire was not something she felt she could stand to be insulted on top of everything else. She was no King Arthur and she was hardly to ever be known outside her home country, but it wasn't some great hero that had saved Suzuya from her first brush with the Pageless. It was the story of a warrior wife who lived for love, only to suffer as her supposed allies betrayed her and placed insurmountable odds before her that claimed the life of her heart's dearest. Suzuya blinked, a moment of realization dawning upon her and snapping her from her thoughts to notice steam no longer wafted from her cup of green tea. Sitting beneath an umbrella-covered table in Merrywell's courtyard, her magic keeping her dry and cozy as she looked out over the grounds. She found herself waiting for her room mate, the elegant Alter with her terrifying paramour that Suzuya found a newfound desire to connect with. Her likely deepseeded trust issues aside, she found the hypocrisy of judging Camelot while following her mistakes simply impossible to swallow. Even if it proved...difficult, she was going to get to know her roommate.</s>
<\|description\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Title: Burning Heart Age: 16 Nationality: Japanese Bio: Suzuya was a girl who just wanted to start a school book club in her hometown of Miso when everything changed for. Staring down at a sheet of signatures, it's lack of any such names due entirely to her failure to ask anyone, she missed the bus that would not have just taken her home, but altered the entire course of her life. She was pulled from her fugue of self recrimination by a plea for help. An eerie, enchanting nose that evoked concern in her, pulling her from the bus stop as though she could make up for her social failings with a single act of compassion for her fellow man. Following the persistent cries lead her to an alley, where rather then a woman in distress she found a hyena like Pageless, braying with laughter amidst the cries of young girls, their voices mimiced by a beastial maw that reared back in an unkind smile. Terror crushed her in a vicegrip as the Pageless proved but one of many, claws raking across brickwork as they crawled down walls from rooftops and rose as though pulled from the shadows for the prospect of prey. Her story would have ended like countless others had there not been a savior pursuing the monsters, one that Suzuya never learned the name of. A hand clenched around her shoulder and hurled her away against the flank of a horse black as the night with a mane made of roaring flame. A Magical Girl clad in the heavy armor of a Samurai barred the way between her and the horde of Pageless, Suzuya glimpsing a face that was serene even as she struck her steed's flank and sent it galloping away with Suzuya curling herself upon it, abject horror and shock leaving her clinging like a lamprey even as it's fierce gallop shook her with every bound. The waning light of day had given way to night when the horse stopped, a mournful noise issuing forth before it flickered away like paper caught alight, dropping it's burden and a Grimoire to the careworn streets of Miso's outskirts. Suzuya took up this book, feeling the Grimoire connect to her, an understanding passing between them that this was the Samurai's, and now it was hers. A fire had been reported in Miso City that night, devouring abandoned tenements with not a soul in sight, but Suzuya knew better. She was still clutching the Grimoire to her chest when the first Magical Girls came to her home days later, telling her of the Grand Ministry and passing along to her parents the news she'd been selected for a foreign exchange student program that would offer her prestigious accolades on her student records. Suzuya packed her bags quietly, her life in freefall and changing faster then she had ever feared or dared to hope, and into the center of her Grimoire she left the folded form of a book club that hadn't been, a book mark in a literal sense. The tome was a weight on her chest, the burden of expectation she had shied away from once already. Her hands cradled the spine even as she ached to set it down, but she wouldn't let herself turn from this responsibility. She would carry this weight, and each day, little by little, the fire it stoked would remain outside her transformation. Or so she hoped. Heiki monogatari - Tale of Tomoe Gozen Classification: Fable Description: The Onna Musha, Warrior Woman, Tomoe Gozen was a devoted wife to her husband Yoshinori. So much so, rather then stay behind to defend their home, she fought beside him on the battlefield. A real life figure mixed with legend, rumors who have made her origin and ending fluid to the reader's preferences. What is held in certainty was that she was an exceptional warrior, master of the bow and the traditional woman's weapon of the Naginata, yet was said to favor the katana traditionally only allowed to samurai. She had the strength and skill matching a thousand men, and led an army just as large into battle alongside her husband. Her stories end comes with that of her husband's, as his successes mixed with incompetent leadership, resulting in his own family turning upon him out of jealousy. Their armies slaughtered till Tomoe Gozen stood amidst a party of six, they were faced with a vast host and her husband ordered she retreat. Whether it was an act of love or a desire not to be shamed dying besides a woman is up to interpretation, but she refuses and charges the armies. A heart that burns with life, that primal spirit that buoys all to greatness. With blade in hand she sang her story into the page's of fable and history, she cleaved the heads of her foes even as her husband lost his own. Monkhood. Revenge. A tapestry of conclusions woven by countless lines of ink on paper. And a head unbowed, always. Abilites: Onna Musha- Though not Samurai themselves, a woman of Japan was expected to defend themselves and their homes. Tomoe Gozen went a step beyond by taking to the field, and bore the burden of carrying added arms upon her person. This takes the form of Suzuya drawing weapons from her tails, the traditional tools of the era settling easy in her hands with skill of the original Tomoe Gozen flowing through her. Strength of Heart- Suzuya is a shy, uncertain girl, but upon transforming she is suffused with a confidence entirely unknown to her. It makes her brave beyond measure, pushing forward to cut down her enemies and stand against the injustices of the world. Honor Through Head Taking- The old belief that the head must be washed and honored for a soul to pass peacefully into the afterlife. By cleaving the heads of Pageless, Suzuya's heart beats faster, till her body is wreathed in the fires of her passion. A temporary but stacking increase in power embodying Tomoe Gozen's fearlessness in open warfare against overwhelming odds. Peerless Horsemaster- UNAVAILABLE. Tomoe Gozen's greatest feats were accomplished on horse back, capable of guiding a steed over the harshest terrain and slay enemies at full gallop without sacrificing any of her dexterity. The grimoire summons a steed worthy of her legend, but Suzuya is unable to mount the horse till it accepts her holding the grimoire.</s> <\|message\|>María de Borbón @TheWendil@Majoras End Maria had failed to notice the amassing group of students that came to watch the training and only really took note of them when Charlotte caught their attention. "You really are that known, are you not, Charlotte? That is quite formidable." Maria said, answering her companion's question with a smile - the first honest smile since she walked to the girls' side. Maria followed that by ignoring Charlotte's comment about needing girls like her. She, of course, disagreed. Maria felt like her presence was a potential risk to everyone around her...but that train of thoughts was redundant. She felt there was no need to bring it up out loud and, anyway, had a creeping suspicion that Charlotte might already know how Maria felt inside. She followed Charlotte away from the crowd, remaining silent at first. She had briefly heard of what had happened but only in whispers. Charlotte, if she was to be believed of course, confirmed it. Of course the Ministry would keep such dangerous news hidden from them. Maria sighed, looking down. News of a rogue magical girl was bad enough - and in a way terrifying - and they wanted her mixed in all of it? It was as if the Ministry twisted her fears on purpose in the worst ways possible. "I am afraid you might be right." she answered the the red head's last bit about getting used to her designed role and finding a teammate. "It cannot be avoided. I just hope that they will accept my presence. Very well then, Miss Clementine. I thank you for your time and wish you well." Maria politely bowed her farewell to Ozma and made her way down to the arena, arriving shortly after the blonde haired girl, Celina. Maria would also walk closer and give the same polite bow she gave Charlotte just moments earlier - an act of etiquette clearly betraying her real age. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Miss Lupin." she began by answering the newcomer. "My name is Maria de Borbón. It's a pleasure to meet all of you, truly. I had the pleasure of watching the end of your previous training exercise and was... impressed." Maria deemed unnecessary to mention out loud why she was sent here just yet. She did not know how the group would react to that, and did not wish to pass as pompous or pretentious. She then walked closer towards Valeria, who was in her conjured vehicle still. "Greetings, Miss Weizenbaum. Could I possibly have a word with you if possible?"</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance LILAC SHIMMER Bonnie took some time to regain her footing on the ground and steady out, be which time Nessie had already moved on. "Eh? That's it?" She stared in confusion at the mecha monstrosity's ease of disintegration. "I guess that was like, four of us attacking at the same time? I thought it was supposed to be all of us." Then came Valeria's assessment, and Lilac's brow furrowed. "That's not how this is supposed to work. It's supposed to not work the first time, and then the failure teaches us to do all the stuff you're talking bout now, right? This would make a terrible story moral! Don't do the stuff that worked fine?" One of the few things that seemed able to get Lilac worked up was when the magical girl stuff wasn't working out like it was 'supposed' to. "Unless like, this is the moment of hubris and a giant super Pageless only defeatable by teamwork shows up later?" She paused for a moment, and then bounced up to the edge of the arena and peered over it to double check, just in case. Glancing back and forth, she was not quick to find any giant Pageless sneaking up on the school. Lilac crossed her arms, a little upset at another team thing so soon after the other one... "I suppose team names and attacks are fun..." Lilac begrudgingly admitted, and finally lightened up a bit again, now starting to feel a little silly over being upset. Hopefully no one had been paying attention to her since she hadn't been talking to anyone in particular. As Lilac started looking around again, she noticed a couple of new faces... since when did they have a cute doggo girl? Was she someone's familiar like Rose's friend or a magical girl? Eh, either way, Lilac decided to wave to the newcomers, before thinking more about partners. It seemed like while she was focusing on other things, Lilac missed the talk about becoming closer to one's Grimoire, but, just as well, it seemed quite a few people were following that path already. Oddly enough it was Tesni who caught Lilac's ear. Huh, Tesni seemed to make a little sense, wait what was that about weakness? Why would someone want to be weak? Lilac didn't seem to get that. She decided to walk closer, her earlier hesitance forgotten in curiousity, and perhaps a spirit of camaraderie over unsatisfaction with the battle. "Um, I'm not sure I get that. Are you saying like, being the strongest would be boring because you don't have room to improve?" Lilac tried explaining what she thought Tesni said as a way to hopefully get correction on what Tesni meant.</s>	<\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha The lessons were concluded for the night, or so Burning Heart believed, her attention pulled from peers and students to find what should have been a lesson was more a spectator sport. How embarrasing would it have been had they failed miserably with so many seniors and peers watching over them? The vulpine Magical Girl shuddered and chose to hop off of Xolys shoulder as more new faces came from stand and shadow alike to either introduce themselves or peruse them like one does a merchant's wares. With a slow blink, Burning Heart stopped, reconsidering that maybe her sour impressions of, well, the entire landmass of England and all therein, was making her a touch paranoid. Her transformation unfurled around her, a swirl of flame the rose dispersed on the wind to leave skittish, old Suzuya in her place. In Xolys shadow. Her heart slammed into her throat and she nearly bit her tongue stiffling the imminent urge to shriek. But...she knew he wasn't slimy. That counted for a lot, even without her Grimoire girding her will actively, and she tentatively reached her hand out. Just a pat, light and brief as though expecting to bitten, before withdrawing to her side. She'd touched him, and he was most definetly dry! The blonde perked up, imaginary ears wiggling atop her head before she remembered she wasn't a fox at the moment- Err, at all! "I think I can sleep without transforming tonight..." She murmured, hands curling under her chin as pulled her sweater to hide the excited flush of her cheeks and the giddy pull to her lips. There was a pleased warmth coming from her Grimoire, and she wondered if she actually needed a tuner to get in touch with it.</s>
<\|description\|>Bonnie Chance LILAC SHIMMER 19 y/o \| Female \| 154cm (5'0.5") NATIONALITY: Canadian APPEARANCE: Casual Wear Uniform Part Timer Bonnie is a French Canadian oft bearing a smile on her lips and a spring in her step, as long as there hasn't been a long night slaying pageless on a school night. She's a tiny bit short, but otherwise limber and athletic, and insists her next growth spurt is right around the corner, regardless of what any senior magical girls tell her. Her pride and joy is taking great care of her extravagant hair and hairstyle, which nicely frames her pale skin and sparkling lilac-pink eyes. Lilac Shimmer strides on the battlefield garbed in radiant attire. The striking white core of her outfit serves to accept the colors of Joyeuse and live up to her name, shimmering finer than silk in the aurora of Joyeuse's power. And, one cannot forget Joyeuse himself, a kingly companion, a fine stout medieval longsword, no flippant rapier, crowned with a hilt of royal gold. In her hands the blade seems large enough to be wielded two handed, and at times she will, but as a Magical Girl she can nonetheless wield it with deadly ease in a single hand. Inside school, Bonnie's outfit is not exactly kept to an exactingly formal standard. Comfort is more important for those mid-class naps. Outside of school or work, Bonnie tends towards tomboyish outfits, though one might occasionally find her aiming for a cute or elegant appeal instead of a handsome one. Relatively common is a mix and match, with a rather boyish top combined with a skirt. The exception to the rule is her extravagant work uniform. GRIMOIRE: Title: La Chanson de Roland Classification: Fable The Song of Roland is an epic poem of medieval France, celebrating deeds of honor, kingship, battle and crusade. Dating back to the 11th century, it is a tale of some longevity, being quite popular in medieval France. It is a tale of court and crusade, justice and treachery. In Bonnie's hands, the Grimoire grants her the sword of Charlemange. As for the reason the Song of Roland grants her Charlemange's blade, she's not sure, though Charles is prominently featured. Perhaps it has something to do with a right to rule? But if so, what does a mere magical girl rule? Bonnie does not yet understand the significance, still puzzling as to the deeper meanings. While the Song of Roland is a historically important tale, oft credited with aiding the rise of French national sentiment, it certainly doesn't have worldwide reach. Durandal the blade of Roland is probably more famous than Roland or his song, simply for appearing as a legendary weapon in games. But it is little more than a name to most. How many do you know that actually read the Song of Roland? And perhaps more importantly, the modern world has little positive regard for crusades and wars of religion these days. As such, the Song of Roland is currently classified as Fable rank. The Song of Roland's primary ability is to summon for Lilac Shimmer the legendary sword of Charlemange, Joyeuse, a powerful longsword of shifting colors. While later legends might ascribe to it the power of Longinus, Joyeuse is not as mythical as that weapon. It is nonetheless peerless to any mortal blade and possesses a curious power. While drawn, Joyeuse may be used to create colorful displays of vibrant, joyful even, lights. This power seems to act naturally when Lilac is enjoying the thrill of battle resulting in the battlefield being lit up like a festival. Finally, as a melee type magical girl, Lilac Shimmer indeed possesses the typical physical suite of enhancements assumed of that type. BIOGRAPHY: Bonnie can be described as typically enthusiastic and bombastic, but still trying to find her place in the world. She will oft make bold declarative statements of truth, but internally doubt as to whether they really are so. If she's willing to share her doubts with you, it's a strong sign of her trust that she doesn't make for many. Bonnie has a rather direct and immediate approach to most problem solving. Pageless? Transform, pronounce judgment, and strike! Need money? Go around and see who's hiring. Schoolwork? Ah, who cares, just write something down, a guess is better than a blank sheet. She tends towards decisively doing the most obvious solution, even if perhaps a bit more care should be taken to determine the proper solution. The exception to this habit is relational issues, that instead have her shaking in her boots and taking no action at all or reacting defensively. The loss of her Magical Girl Team, not to Pageless, but simply drifting apart, has shattered her confidence in that regard. Overall, she's still young, even if not quite as young as she looks, and puts up a brave front to try and hide a teeming mass of insecurities. Bonnie's own story is not all that unbelievable or out of the ordinary. A bright young girl of 19 years, traveling to a university abroad to study. The subject of her study, being a magical girl, may certainly be out of the norm, but as a whole her past is not what troubles her, but the future. Bonnie Chance was born an only child to French Canadians, not in Quebec, but in London. London Ontario that is. Bonnie still keeps in contact with her parents regularly, for as much they know, she is enjoying a full ride scholarship in a prestigious far off academy. Bonnie keeps back ups of every single message they share with each other across the pond, dreading the day when she has to break ties with them. A magical girls lot is not a mortals lot, and eventually the two worlds must shift apart. Bonnie became a magical girl three years ago, while attending a camp in the woods. Tales and chocolates exchanged by firelight, interrupted by an eerie howl came from the darkness. The chaperone told them to stay as he would check it out, and they huddled close whispering whether it was beast or prank. A scream issued from where their chaperone investigated. The others fled in panic to their cabins, but something different steeled Bonnie. Grabbing a stout stick and the flashlight app on her phone, she set forth into the darkness. What she found was one of the Pageless, this one a twisted beast both moose and man the size of a van and crowned in gore soaked horns. An impossible beast a thousand times her match. Yet she could not help but charge. From her lips spilled forth not a battle cry, but a song, a poem, in flowing words she knew not. Something French. The stick in her hands was not a stick anymore, but a glorious blade, and Lilac Shimmer cleaved the beast in twain. But Bonnie was not alone that night, multiple Pageless had attacked different campers, and more than one Magical Girl was born that night, defending the woods. In the months after, they formed a small Magical Girl team, defending London and the surrounding area against the Pageless. Eventually, however, this team came to an end. Not because of the Pageless, but ironically, joining a 'greater' team. Eventually they were recruited into the Grand Ministry, and, amid that larger team, lost their smaller identity. Having lost that solidarity of the smaller team in which she was a prominent member, Bonnie now finds herself questioning her place in the vast Grand Ministry. ODDS AND ENDS: She doesn't know much of French culture, beyond some fragmented snippets of language and here and there. She knows enough to get the joke in her name, for example. She's been struggling to try and read her Grimoire in its original text, but so far has resorted to reading English translations. Given the French origins of her tale, she's a little disappointed Marrywell is in Britain as opposed to France. Here are some places I'd love to see her story go. If you've got an idea for any of them, hit me up. The Grand Ministry: Bonnie has mixed feelings. She's happy with the opportunity to study in Marrywell and the support they can offer her, but struggles with how she's effectively lost her smaller team as the former members seek position within the Grand Ministry. The Song of Roland: Bonnie struggles to understand the moral she should take from the tale. It's not exactly time to reconquer Spain from the muslims, so the meaning must be something else. The Nature of a King: Bonnie feels a desire to live up to the legend of Charlemange.. But it's not right for a magical girl to go around conquering countries right? Two Worlds: Bonnie is putting off facing the fact that being a magical girl will eventually result in her walking very different paths to her parents. The King's Court: Bereft of her former teammates, Bonnie feels alone in a crowd. She's worried it's her own fault for the group splitting up, and that if she was of greater charisma she could have kept them together. In a Name: Bonnie came up with her magical girl name herself on a whim 3 years ago, and worries it's a bit childish for her knightly/kingly image she's aiming for nowadays. Is foolhardy pride to want a cooler name, or simply a matter of growth?</s> <\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Suzuya Kuzunoha What followed after the team's run-in with Moonlight Tsubasa was less a patrol and more a tense walkabout the city. If any of them had the presence to truly be keeping an eye out for Pageless they didn't find anything, but it was more likely attention would be turned inwards, at least for Suzuya. At least the rainy weather was a familiar comfort, the soft crackle of rain evaporating against her bushy tails forming a steady background noise she savored. Even with the awkwardness of the other team flying by to check in on them. And for all her frustration and discomfort, Suzuya didn't say a word of it. Slipping into the role of the shy foreighner was easy when it served a purpose, and it let her reach the academy without any further attempts at provocation. And Suzuya was quite aware she'd tried to provoke a response at the stupidest time, nearly re-igniting the conflict they'd barely averted with her slap to Camelot. Pride was not something Suzuya was used to holding in high regard, but her Grimoire was not something she felt she could stand to be insulted on top of everything else. She was no King Arthur and she was hardly to ever be known outside her home country, but it wasn't some great hero that had saved Suzuya from her first brush with the Pageless. It was the story of a warrior wife who lived for love, only to suffer as her supposed allies betrayed her and placed insurmountable odds before her that claimed the life of her heart's dearest. Suzuya blinked, a moment of realization dawning upon her and snapping her from her thoughts to notice steam no longer wafted from her cup of green tea. Sitting beneath an umbrella-covered table in Merrywell's courtyard, her magic keeping her dry and cozy as she looked out over the grounds. She found herself waiting for her room mate, the elegant Alter with her terrifying paramour that Suzuya found a newfound desire to connect with. Her likely deepseeded trust issues aside, she found the hypocrisy of judging Camelot while following her mistakes simply impossible to swallow. Even if it proved...difficult, she was going to get to know her roommate.</s> <\|message\|>Valeria Weizenbaum As Ozma walked the halls of Marrywell Academy, something exciting was unfolding. With the sound of thunder, a large explosion bursts up from the right wing of the school. An entire classroom went up into smoke as students poured out through the halls in fear and panic, thinking they were under attack. A fire alarm would ring and sprinklers would spray cold water across the halls. All of this certainly got the attention of Ozma and any other students who had arrived at the academy. The culprit would step out from the smoke and dust, coughing and blowing the smoke from her face with a wave of her hand. Her metal arms would crackle with electrifying power to summon a large vaccum nozzle, sucking up the dark clouds and removing them from view. Any flames nearby are promptly put out with a water nozzle hose, summoned just as fast on her transforming arms. "Ozma! You're late! You missed my defense training class, dumkopf! It was a real banger!" The perpetrator would rush up to the redhead and suddenly tackle her in a gripping hug, squeezing her waist and covering the poor magical girl in soot and ash. It's none other than Valeria Weisenbaum, Charlotte's old partner from her past. "Bit of a minor miscalculation there with a student's spell, but nothing to fear! I've got it under control!" Behind her, the roof of the blasted out classroom finally collapsed in onto itself and was reduced to a heap of rubble and metal with gray smoke bellowing up from its destruction. "I can fix this! I promise!"</s>	<\|message\|>Bonnie Chance Perhaps someone stronger than Bonnie would have sought to make amends between Camelot and Burning Heart. Mend the cracks that were slowly growing. But in that moment, all she wanted to do was to melt in Burning Heart's embrace. To Bonnie, there was a raw difference in the two proclamations of friendship. In her eyes, Camelot's seemed driven by duty and pity, that she was a project to fix, a friendship that would be nothing more than a painful reminder of all the things wrong with her until she was 'fixed' to Camelot's standards. While Burning Heart felt like maybe, maybe, finally, Bonnie had found someone who enjoyed being around her. That maybe she wasn't broken after all. And in that hope, Bonnie could find refuge, safe in Burning Heart's Arms, hugging her tightly back. "Thank you." She whispered with her head low into Burning Heart's shoulder. -- Space to be filled with potential after patrol/after meeting up with the other team shenanigans here.</s>
<\|description\|>Nessie Burns Age: 19 Nationality: Scottish Appearance: Description: A fairly rambunctious and stubborn girl, Nessie isn't dissimilar to your average Scotsman. She can display quite a tough and, at times, even rude and imposing exterior when in the company of strangers. Around friends she is brash, cheeky and can be quite loud, frequently poking fun at those she surrounds herself with. Equally, though, she also enjoys her own company, her favourite passtime being sitting by or swimming in a lake, especially one surrounded by beautiful scenery. Definitely the outdoors type. She loves a good drink though, and will never say no to having a pint in a nice pub. Biography: Born in the Scottish Highlands, Nessie comes from a fairly wealthy background, her childhood home a rural manor house within an idyllic setting. Mountains, hills, woodland and lakes as far as the eye can see. The perfect place for an adventurous young girl like her, and still it remains her favourite place. Her parents work in... well, that she's not really sure of. Never has been, even to this day and age. And it's not like she's had many opportunities to ask them either. At a young age she was sent to a prestigious boarding school for girls in Edinburgh, to both heighten her education and to keep her somewhere while her parents were away from home working. And it is there that she has remained most of her life since then. Even when school is out, she usually goes to stay with her uncle, who lives in an apartment not too far from her school, and with whom she's built quite a strong connection with over the years. After finishing school at the age of 18 however, she didn't really know what to do with herself. She would go between the Highlands and Edinburgh, aimlessly inhabiting each of her homes while thinking of what she wanted to do with her life. Though she had done well at school, it felt like something was missing. It went on like this for a year until her uncle, noticing her rut and seeing the effect it was having on her, recommended a change of scenery for the girl. A breath of fresh air (metaphorically speaking) and an opportunity to see her future more clearly, whether that was university or immediately starting a career. And so now Nessie finds herself in London, the heart and the capital of England. And yet still, even with such a dramatic change in surroundings from where she was previously based, and with so many opportunities and paths right at her fingertips, the girl still feels as though she hasn't found what's right for her yet. Not only that, but since arriving in London she can't help but feel unusual. Strange flickers at the corner of her eye occasionally catch her attention, unexplainable shapes looming around her only to disappear as soon as she puts her full attention on them. Perhaps something there is something coming her way, a path she never could've expected... Grimoire • Title: The Loch Ness Monster • Classification: Legend • Description: One of the ultimate creatures of folk lore, the phenomenon of the Loch Ness Monster has its roots way back in the sixth century, though most of its notoriety bubbled up in the late 19th and 20th centuries. The illusive long-necked creature, described by some to be a sea serpent or dragon living deep within the waters of Loch Ness, has created ripples throughout history with its disputed existence, gradually being pulled more and more into the limelight of contention until becoming the staple of the paranormal that it is today. And so its legend is reflected in its equally illusive Grimoire. A story that, to this day and perhaps even far into the future, has not seen its end. • Abilities: The Undine - At will, Nessie is able to manipulate any water around her and bend it completely to her will. She can also summon water out of thin air if required, but that takes more energy and control to do, so don't expect her to be summoning reservoirs of water with no difficulty right off the bat. It'll take training to get anywhere close to that. Misty Waters - Like the monster itself, Nessie can disappear herself out of thin air. The only catch is that she may only remain invisible as long as she can hold her breath. There is a loophole to this ability however, as shown with the next one. The Loch's Blessing - These are more passive abilities than anything, but they can definitely come in handy, especially in a city that contains a massive river (looks at London). The Grimoire grants Nessie with incredibly swift swimming speed, making her look like a blur to anyone above the surface. On top of this she can also breathe, hear and see completely clearly when underwater, almost as if she were on normal ground. The final blessing is the loophole to her Misty Waters ability, which is that she can turn invisible for as long as she wishes when underwater, essentially ignoring its limitation. Of course, most battles would probably take place above water so this ability may not always be as useful as it sounds, but in the right situation, as well as clever usage, it can provide Nessie with an invaluable edge.</s> <\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Suzuya Kuzunoha Burning Heart watched the Pageless fall from a respectful distance, eyes steady as she observed the clash of near half a dozen strikes upon the monster. There was no harmony to be found in it, but a heart warming unity of purpose saw each blow open a crack in the Pageless and widen it, creating a path for the newborn Magical Girl to strike true. The Japanese Magical Girl's grimoire pulsed with approval, an echo of a pulse running alongside Suzuya's own that took joy from seeing the birth of a noble Onna Musha as she was nurtured to this moment of conception by the efforts of her seniors. It was a moment of noblity in birth, the grace of matrons elevating a maiden into a sisterhood that persisted against the encroaching dark time and time again. It was everything Suzuya had ached for and would never have. Not a week into her life as a Magical Girl and already could she see another be inducted with all the fan faire and acceptance of a story book made manifest. There was bile on her tongue, it's acrid taste mixed with the ash lining her throat to make for a bitter concoction to swallow. But she didn't need the domination of her Grimoire to force back her resentment, as she hadn't the heart to sully such a moment and her powers wouldn't see it stained by the fouler side of a woman's heart either. The perpetual wall flower watched the danger pass and the people rouse from their stupor, magic erasing the stomping of a godly staff and her own roaring flames. The scent of gunpowder left the air and even the errant slashes of Xolys where absent from girders and stonework. The Beast himself struck Suzuya in the oddest sense, for while she was uncomfortable by it, Burning Heart's hold upon her left her with no ill effect. In fact, just seeing Olivia carried in upon it left the Grimoire considering him a substitute mount when next they entered battle, a sentiment that came with a palpable disappointment from the Grimoire in its host. Suzuya couldn't blame the book for feeling that when it was her inability to tame a horse that was stiffling it's full power. Grimoire and Magical Girl shook themselves, finding it easy to lose themselves like this when they lacked a present threat to give them purpose. Weirdly enough they did this upon finding Camelot motioning to them before she turned away, something they took for a loss of interest from their lack of response. "These are fine warriors. Perhaps we will have more time to mingle later." She opined aloud, her Japanese clipped and curt as it drifted into the morning air, before turning away and darting back to Merrywell as the group departed for their fortress in this foggy land. Only at the gate did Burning Heart release it's hold on Suzuya, the girl's confidence melting away with her tails just as they came before the throngs of Magical Girls going about their business. And the incesant whispers her ears naturally tuned towards, a frown dominating her expression as she curled her arms around herself for some small measure of comfort. Prickles of gooseflesh crept along her arms as her eyes scanned back and forth, trying to put faces to the words even as she realized they weren't directed at her. Still, it didn't do anything to make her feel welcomed here. She was better at understanding English and reading it then speaking it herself, but the alien tongue left her aching for the support of her Grimoire. Then a weirdo leaped into a bush and exasperated girls barreled towards them, Suzuya releasing a shriek as she found herself knocked over onto the dusty courtyard. Why did I even come here?</s> <\|message\|>Lucette Delacroix --Morning at Marywell-- By the time the group of magically-immortal girls arrived at the mythical Marywell Academy, the moon had abdicated her reign to the sun as warm golden light caressed the horizon. This marked the definite end of the Pageless' encroachment upon the human world, at least for this part of the globe. That was one of the major reasons why Magical Girls are so important, somewhere out there, it's always nighttime. It was a precarious thing to balance global presence versus power concentration as spreading the girls too thin would mean their enemies could easily snatch them one by one; even the mightiest of Mythics couldn't hold a candle to the power of camaraderie. The sheer wisdom and experience it took to take in all of these factors and make decisions where mistakes potentially cost lives... Twas' precisely why anyone who doubted the Grand Minister were mostly misguided and/or short-sighted as was common with the younger magical girls, but there were those who truly stood in opposition against Lady Marywell and regrettably... if they were going to be enemies of the protector of humanity, then they shall be treated like one. However, even amongst the former, there were select cases where their refusal to respect protocol was starting to endanger innocent lives. What was the use of feeding the homeless for a short few years, fattening them up just so they could be devoured by the Pageless later? Whatever twisted gestalt consciousness that directed the umbral legions was smart; It's ravenous and malicious, but not stupid like a rabid dog. It's a patient puppetmaster that possessed plans to destroy humanity's guardians and not all of them necessarily involved direct physical threats. Lucette was worried that Chinami was an unwitting pawn to-... ah, it's her. Lucette's deep thoughts were interrupted by none other than the one and only Wizard of Oz, Charlotte Clementine, who - befitting the story that her grimoire emulated - had a mysterious power and an unknown chronological age, although for the latter, by virtue of the Wonderful Wizard of Oz's first manifestation into the world, she could be born in the same generation as Lucette at the oldest. Being at the front of the group, Lucy had the best seat in the house to watch the redhead being chased by no less than three students. For all of her power's mystery, there was one thing for sure about Charlotte, the girl was fast. It only took but a brief moment until the "19-year-old" stopped before the "15-year-old" as they stared into each other for a second, well, Lucette was staring; Charlotte was more grinning at everyone really. "I'm confident that they won't ask, Charlotte." She made a mental shrug as Ozma literally dove behind a bush to transport herself to Merlin-knows-where. Typical. "Charlotte Clementine or Ozma, chosen bearer of the grimoiric manifestation of the Wonderful Wizard of Oz." The white-haired girl answered the younger redhead's question regarding her fellow ginger, "She has been with us for a long while, this won't be the last time you'll see her antics, but rest assured, she has good intentions and knows what she's doing." Unlike some of them here... With a smile, she shifted her attention to the whole group of seven magical girls, excluding herself, "Girls, please rest for now, you more than deserve it. Thank you for your brave contributions last night, rest assured that as the vanguard of humanity's salvation, your efforts are noble and just." She wouldn't bother anyone with a long-winded speech so as to not waste anyone's time, however, she did specifically turn her gaze back at Nessie after. The looked-younger-but-actually-much-older shorter girl placed a reassuring hand on the Scot's shoulder, "Miss Burns, I'm sure you have questions about what happened to you, what was those creatures, and most importantly, what does this mean for you going forward. While I'd love to personally answer all of them, I have an important matter to attend to right now. So, someone else will brief you on all the important information you deserve to know and show you to your room. However, I will be sure to visit you in the short future." She curled a solemn motherly smile as her hand patted the redhead's shoulder a few times. That done, Lumiere left the group to their own devices; no doubt to Chinami's relief. .......... ..... ... Moments later, the white-haired girl found herself in front of the double doors leading into the Grand Minister's personal study, effectively the principal's office in mundane academies, and knocked, "Lady Marywell, this is Lucette, may I take a moment of your time? I have an important matter to discuss with you."</s>	<\|message\|>Nessie Burns Charlotte Clementine. Ozma. Both names meant nothing to Nessie, at least in terms of being able to recognise them. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, though? Now that, she knew. She looked slightly surprised at the mention of it though; a powerset based on the Wizard of Oz seemed slightly... odd to her. Like, what, had she disappeared off to Kansas or something? Sensing that more questions at this particular point would just be wasting people's time, however, Nessie simply responded with a nod before listening to Lucette's words of praise towards the whole group. She didn't feel dissatisfied, not that much at least, but there was still something that she felt was missing. Some vital piece of information to make things clearer. After all, how can you recognise someone in the same striking way she had just seconds ago, without having any recollection of their name? The mention of rest, however, was not lost on Nessie. She'd gotten up early the previous morning for a university interview, and a whole 24 hours or so awake at this point combined with the rigour of the night's events were beginning to set in on her, in the form of an oppressive and unyielding feeling of exhaustion. Which was probably why she didn't have a problem with Lucette going when she did. Now wasn't the best time for a Q&A. "Nae bother... I'll see you later." It felt odd that a girl that looked younger than she did had such a matronly demeanour to her. Those pats and parting words left Nessie with a warm smile, one that opened up to a yawn while she was mid-sentence and interrupted her for a couple of seconds, before she burst out of it with a chuckle. With Lucette gone though, now Nessie turned to the rest of her newly acquainted comrades, unable to help another yawn slipping out while she spoke. She rubbed her eyes in an attempt to refresh them and rid them of their dull, tired quality, but it didn't help much. "So, uh... where're the bedrooms then? I could bloody well use a good kip." Given the size of the castle itself, Nessie had a feeling she was going to need some help with directions here, lest she end up passed out in a squash court or something.</s>
<\|description\|>Nessie Burns Age: 19 Nationality: Scottish Appearance: Description: A fairly rambunctious and stubborn girl, Nessie isn't dissimilar to your average Scotsman. She can display quite a tough and, at times, even rude and imposing exterior when in the company of strangers. Around friends she is brash, cheeky and can be quite loud, frequently poking fun at those she surrounds herself with. Equally, though, she also enjoys her own company, her favourite passtime being sitting by or swimming in a lake, especially one surrounded by beautiful scenery. Definitely the outdoors type. She loves a good drink though, and will never say no to having a pint in a nice pub. Biography: Born in the Scottish Highlands, Nessie comes from a fairly wealthy background, her childhood home a rural manor house within an idyllic setting. Mountains, hills, woodland and lakes as far as the eye can see. The perfect place for an adventurous young girl like her, and still it remains her favourite place. Her parents work in... well, that she's not really sure of. Never has been, even to this day and age. And it's not like she's had many opportunities to ask them either. At a young age she was sent to a prestigious boarding school for girls in Edinburgh, to both heighten her education and to keep her somewhere while her parents were away from home working. And it is there that she has remained most of her life since then. Even when school is out, she usually goes to stay with her uncle, who lives in an apartment not too far from her school, and with whom she's built quite a strong connection with over the years. After finishing school at the age of 18 however, she didn't really know what to do with herself. She would go between the Highlands and Edinburgh, aimlessly inhabiting each of her homes while thinking of what she wanted to do with her life. Though she had done well at school, it felt like something was missing. It went on like this for a year until her uncle, noticing her rut and seeing the effect it was having on her, recommended a change of scenery for the girl. A breath of fresh air (metaphorically speaking) and an opportunity to see her future more clearly, whether that was university or immediately starting a career. And so now Nessie finds herself in London, the heart and the capital of England. And yet still, even with such a dramatic change in surroundings from where she was previously based, and with so many opportunities and paths right at her fingertips, the girl still feels as though she hasn't found what's right for her yet. Not only that, but since arriving in London she can't help but feel unusual. Strange flickers at the corner of her eye occasionally catch her attention, unexplainable shapes looming around her only to disappear as soon as she puts her full attention on them. Perhaps something there is something coming her way, a path she never could've expected... Grimoire • Title: The Loch Ness Monster • Classification: Legend • Description: One of the ultimate creatures of folk lore, the phenomenon of the Loch Ness Monster has its roots way back in the sixth century, though most of its notoriety bubbled up in the late 19th and 20th centuries. The illusive long-necked creature, described by some to be a sea serpent or dragon living deep within the waters of Loch Ness, has created ripples throughout history with its disputed existence, gradually being pulled more and more into the limelight of contention until becoming the staple of the paranormal that it is today. And so its legend is reflected in its equally illusive Grimoire. A story that, to this day and perhaps even far into the future, has not seen its end. • Abilities: The Undine - At will, Nessie is able to manipulate any water around her and bend it completely to her will. She can also summon water out of thin air if required, but that takes more energy and control to do, so don't expect her to be summoning reservoirs of water with no difficulty right off the bat. It'll take training to get anywhere close to that. Misty Waters - Like the monster itself, Nessie can disappear herself out of thin air. The only catch is that she may only remain invisible as long as she can hold her breath. There is a loophole to this ability however, as shown with the next one. The Loch's Blessing - These are more passive abilities than anything, but they can definitely come in handy, especially in a city that contains a massive river (looks at London). The Grimoire grants Nessie with incredibly swift swimming speed, making her look like a blur to anyone above the surface. On top of this she can also breathe, hear and see completely clearly when underwater, almost as if she were on normal ground. The final blessing is the loophole to her Misty Waters ability, which is that she can turn invisible for as long as she wishes when underwater, essentially ignoring its limitation. Of course, most battles would probably take place above water so this ability may not always be as useful as it sounds, but in the right situation, as well as clever usage, it can provide Nessie with an invaluable edge.</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance LILAC SHIMMER "Good. Let's take a moment, ok?" Bonnie guided Suzuya over to a nearby bench and sat down beside her, speaking softly. Bonnie stayed with Suzuya as everyone else launched into debate. Her head was swimming with all the perspectives on display, but she wanted to stay solid for Suzuya right now. As the Pageless appeared, Bonnie gave a reassuring shoulder rub, and whispered, "You can sit this one out if you like." "I don't know about the future, but I know right now my heart wants to fight." Bonnie begins shining as she stares at Roma. A spotlight shines over her as if she were on stage. Then her eyes drift over to her companions, as a flower materializes in her hands, held to her lips. "There are too many beautiful things in this world to worry about whose responsibility it is to defend them." She dramatically tosses the sparkling flower into the sky whose petals fall, like the shower above a wedded couple. By the time gazes fall back down to Bonnie from the eyecatching flower, the transformation into Lilac Shimmer is already complete, and with a spin, the illusions of petals scatter to the wind as a Magical Girl stands ready for battle. "Another time, there's battle to be done." Lilac returns her gaze to Roma, dismissing her words for now, before gazing to the sky to face the Pageless. ~Alright, that should be what to say if she's like, she's the type whose's gonna play coy before helping... Wait, I hope she didn't, like, summon the bad guys, and I'm about to get hit while I'm dramatically staring skyward.~ Lilac's eyes drop from the Pageless for a moment to nervously glance around everyone, even as she holds her chin high as if she's still looking up.</s> <\|message\|>Tesni Edris Title: Dynasty Queen Dynasty Queen "Ahhh, it's all gone tocachu hwch." The crude curse sprung from Tesni's lips. Reaching down she grabbed the 'mugger' by the collar and tossed him at the fleeing crowed. "Don't forget this asshole you fuckin' idiots! Fuck, fuck fuck…" she buried her face in her hands, not out of any despair or fear. Simply out of sheer annoyance at the fact the swarm of Pageless were probably all over the city and more than that... she was going to have to actively try to not break any buildings. "Fuck it, you know what, fuck it. Do what you can and don't stress about what you can't…" taking a deep breath she started walking back across the road to where the rest of the girls were and more importantly… where the enigmatic lady stood, the lady the Pageless appeared to be at the very least paying attention to, even when there was plenty of people and magical girls around to attack. "The divine root conceives, its source revealed; Mind and nature nurtured, the Great Dao is born." as her foot fell, a golden ring rippled out on the ground, the faint chorus of ancient Chinese instruments announcing her transformation. It floated upward around her, transforming her as it passed, stopping at her forehead and contracted in making a golden circlet before fading away. Now in full Magical Girl regalia, Tesni reached behind her ear for a toothpick, twirled it between her fingers and had it expand into her staff and slung it over her shoulders. "Okay Magical Babies, focus or you'll get done in by gross little Pageless~! I'll tell you what; if you don't feel like fighting I promise I'll take care of them all for you. Keep in mind the more I have to take care of on my own, the less careful I can be with my attacks. So I hope you don't have a favourite restaurant nearby~!" Tesni's eyes were glimmering with excitement, this was a challenge. There was no fear in her grin, no change in her stride. Her eyes darted around, absorbing all she could about her surroundings and then she licked her lips. Suddenly there was a golden blur as she swung her staff down over head it expanding in length, as if she were simply chopping wood, right at the crowd of Pageless… and more importantly right where Roma stood. There was a ripping sound as it tore through the air, as if the natural physics of the world was struggling to account for her weapon the Ruyi Jingu Bang. A line of thought so simple it was absurd led Tesni to this action; 'If Miss Enigmatic is an ally she will dodge. If she is not, either she will block and save her subordinates or a Pageless would protect her... and if this is enough to take her out, well what good would she be in a fight?' This basic deduction would only last for as long as this skirmish lasted, but it was important to determine if you were going to get stabbed in the back.</s>	<\|message\|>Nessie Burns Though Lucette's answer was decidedly more sensical, informed and intriguing than Wilhelmina's, both answers got an appreciative smile from the curious Nessie, as new information pieced together in her mind to finally give her a proper idea of what they were up against, and why they were up against it. The senior magical girl's story of her self-proclaimed 'most interesting encounter' also did not disappoint. The initial shock on Nessie's face, after realising their group leader was perhaps around a century older than her appearance suggested -whatever skin lotion Lucette was using, she needed it-, gradually creased more and more into a look of utter bewilderment across the redhead's countenance as the story was told. "Holy shit..." Was all Nessie could manage, an exhale of a mutter in the silence after the tense conclusion of Lucette's recollection. After all that, of course, only more questions were uncovered in the process of her previous ones being answered, but those could wait. Maybe she'd even find out some answers herself today. As though a response to her very thoughts, no sooner than when the group was ready to move on, did the clouds rolls like a jagged blanket to cover the once-blue sky. Now there was no need for Lucette to demonstrate the contrast between light and shadow. The shadow had come. And, for now, there was little light to be seen. Rain harshly showered over the city, darkening all that it touched and soaking any who would brave the storm unprotected. Though that was nothing compared to the intensity of the lightning strikes that pierced through cloud and tore into unseen locations, creating an ominous resonance that echoed through Nessie like a sinister alarm. It's not like she wasn't used to it, after all she was from Scotland for christ's sake, but something about lightning always felt... unnerving to her. If that hadn't made her stomach drop though then what lurked above, shown only in brief flashes from forks of lightning around it, definitely did. A pair of giant, coin-like golden eyes staring down at them. At everyone in the city. The complete lack of spirit and emotion in them, their unflinching nature, made them about as far from being human as could possibly be. And so little doubt was left in Nessie's mind as to what exactly this creature was. But things were different now. She didn't have to run away or cower, and neither did she feel like it. In fact, if anything, she felt a certain sense of excitement. This wasn't just a chance to get to grips more with her powers, but it was also an opportunity to kick some ass with her comrades. There was something so exhilarating about that to the young Scot. Closing her eyes, Nessie conjured the image of her grimoire and witch attire in her mind, focussing on it from a meditative angle and keeping completely still. As a light filled her mind's eye, the rain which poured down around her suddenly changed the direction of their streams, converging and spiralling around her, practically engulfing the girl, before bursting away to reveal her transformed state and outfit below. She stepped to her teammates' sides, broomstick materialising in her grip as she turned to each in turn with an enthusiastic grin, defiant of the presence of those looming eyes above them. "So, where does this one rank in your 'most interesting Pageless' encounters then?" She joshed Lucette, turning to her with a cheeky sideward glance.</s>
<\|description\|>Nessie Burns Age: 19 Nationality: Scottish Appearance: Description: A fairly rambunctious and stubborn girl, Nessie isn't dissimilar to your average Scotsman. She can display quite a tough and, at times, even rude and imposing exterior when in the company of strangers. Around friends she is brash, cheeky and can be quite loud, frequently poking fun at those she surrounds herself with. Equally, though, she also enjoys her own company, her favourite passtime being sitting by or swimming in a lake, especially one surrounded by beautiful scenery. Definitely the outdoors type. She loves a good drink though, and will never say no to having a pint in a nice pub. Biography: Born in the Scottish Highlands, Nessie comes from a fairly wealthy background, her childhood home a rural manor house within an idyllic setting. Mountains, hills, woodland and lakes as far as the eye can see. The perfect place for an adventurous young girl like her, and still it remains her favourite place. Her parents work in... well, that she's not really sure of. Never has been, even to this day and age. And it's not like she's had many opportunities to ask them either. At a young age she was sent to a prestigious boarding school for girls in Edinburgh, to both heighten her education and to keep her somewhere while her parents were away from home working. And it is there that she has remained most of her life since then. Even when school is out, she usually goes to stay with her uncle, who lives in an apartment not too far from her school, and with whom she's built quite a strong connection with over the years. After finishing school at the age of 18 however, she didn't really know what to do with herself. She would go between the Highlands and Edinburgh, aimlessly inhabiting each of her homes while thinking of what she wanted to do with her life. Though she had done well at school, it felt like something was missing. It went on like this for a year until her uncle, noticing her rut and seeing the effect it was having on her, recommended a change of scenery for the girl. A breath of fresh air (metaphorically speaking) and an opportunity to see her future more clearly, whether that was university or immediately starting a career. And so now Nessie finds herself in London, the heart and the capital of England. And yet still, even with such a dramatic change in surroundings from where she was previously based, and with so many opportunities and paths right at her fingertips, the girl still feels as though she hasn't found what's right for her yet. Not only that, but since arriving in London she can't help but feel unusual. Strange flickers at the corner of her eye occasionally catch her attention, unexplainable shapes looming around her only to disappear as soon as she puts her full attention on them. Perhaps something there is something coming her way, a path she never could've expected... Grimoire • Title: The Loch Ness Monster • Classification: Legend • Description: One of the ultimate creatures of folk lore, the phenomenon of the Loch Ness Monster has its roots way back in the sixth century, though most of its notoriety bubbled up in the late 19th and 20th centuries. The illusive long-necked creature, described by some to be a sea serpent or dragon living deep within the waters of Loch Ness, has created ripples throughout history with its disputed existence, gradually being pulled more and more into the limelight of contention until becoming the staple of the paranormal that it is today. And so its legend is reflected in its equally illusive Grimoire. A story that, to this day and perhaps even far into the future, has not seen its end. • Abilities: The Undine - At will, Nessie is able to manipulate any water around her and bend it completely to her will. She can also summon water out of thin air if required, but that takes more energy and control to do, so don't expect her to be summoning reservoirs of water with no difficulty right off the bat. It'll take training to get anywhere close to that. Misty Waters - Like the monster itself, Nessie can disappear herself out of thin air. The only catch is that she may only remain invisible as long as she can hold her breath. There is a loophole to this ability however, as shown with the next one. The Loch's Blessing - These are more passive abilities than anything, but they can definitely come in handy, especially in a city that contains a massive river (looks at London). The Grimoire grants Nessie with incredibly swift swimming speed, making her look like a blur to anyone above the surface. On top of this she can also breathe, hear and see completely clearly when underwater, almost as if she were on normal ground. The final blessing is the loophole to her Misty Waters ability, which is that she can turn invisible for as long as she wishes when underwater, essentially ignoring its limitation. Of course, most battles would probably take place above water so this ability may not always be as useful as it sounds, but in the right situation, as well as clever usage, it can provide Nessie with an invaluable edge.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Bell (Magical Maiden Ethereal Rose) So, going by Valeria's pre-exercise speech, they'd all have to work together and perfectly coordinate their attacks if they wanted to defeat their opponent. It was certainly a good way to encourage teamwork, Olivia reflected, but she was a little unsure of how such a sizable number of girls could all hit one single spot simultaneously, especially on a foe that could fly. And speaking of… "Oh my goodness!" Olivia gushed, her eyes seeming to sparkle at the sight of the mechanical monstrosity Valeria had conjured. "How incredibly fascinating! I just love the drill it has for a stinger! And the claws on its hands look very menacing as well! You know, I almost feel bad about having to destroy it…" The blonde beauty was so enthralled by the sight of the insectoid war machine that she completely failed to hear their instructor note that she might be firing on them at various points of the exercise, not to mention her robot aid's little denial of liabilities… It was the sound of Suzuya's inquiring voice that ultimately broke Olivia out of her awestruck musings, and she turned to the fox-tailed maiden with a brilliant smile. "Oh, of course!" Olivia told her. "That's a wonderful idea, isn't it darling?!" "It is indeed, my sweet," Xolys agreed. "And it would be my great honor and pleasure to provide you with a suitable firing position, Miss Suzuya," the eldritch beast added as he lowered himself for ease of access, a series of steps and handholds forming themselves on his back. Upon ensuring Burning Heart was firmly secure, the Master of Xhar'doth would gently scoop up his azure-clad consort and charge toward their mechanical foe, a mighty beam of unreality charging in the center of his lamprey-like maw…</s> <\|message\|>Tesni Edris Title: Dynasty Queen Dynasty Queen "Am I supposed to go to this?" The slip of paper forced into her hand, drafting her into the mechanical gladiatorial arena for the girls who got back from patrol. Suppressing the sigh, Tesni hastily finished her ice-cream before drifting into the arena the new teacher had seemingly designed for the purpose of boring her, until the fun training dummy of the mechanical hornet materialised itself. Even as Valeria stood tall on the makeshift podium spouting off about what they all really needed, the most cursed and evil thing Tesni could imagine… teamwork. Not that she had anything against the concept, really. It's just that teamwork kinda relied on all parties involved performing at a somewhat equal level with synergistic powers of some description. And it's hard to synergise with the comparatively mundane and not very magical fighting style of 'hit things with a big stick'. She was about flow, forcing her flow into the battle, making the enemy fight at her pace and her pace tended to be a bit too impulsive for others to follow and adapt to. And most Pageless tended to stop if you smacked them hard enough in the right spot, regardless of how many people are there to do the hitting. Still… maybe she could still take hold of the flow of this battle, she'll just be generous and let it flow towards the others. "I'm not really sure if I'm meant to be here, but I have a ticket and I suppose I should at least try and be a better 'teammate'. Stupid tin can, hollow and noisy. Let me play with you for the sake of others, okay? 'The divine root conceives, its source revealed; Mind and nature nurtured, the Great Dao is born.'" A flash and she was once again in her battle attire, her golden staff stabbed into the ground next to her, it ringing out in a clear note. "Now since I'm unsure if me being here is 'cheating', but I was given an invitation so I suppose I might as well give some advice. Everyone should at least have a method for dealing with flying enemies. Either go up to their level…" Holding the upper end of her staff she had it lengthen, carrying her up until she was at 'eye level' with where the mechanical Pageless' eyes probably should be. "Or do what I prefer and… bring it down to your level where you can smash it!" She watched Bonnie launch herself at the flying bug, seemingly having intuited the same method she had in mind. C'mon Bonbon, spike it with me!" Tesni kicked her staff backwards out from under herself and swung it up and around in an overhead chop, aiming to bring her full strength down upon the Hornet to force it to the ground. "Fliers with wings tend to be weak to getting smashed from above!"</s>	<\|message\|>Nessie Burns The look that Valeria had given Nessie earlier during her assessment of the patrol teams had not gone over the girl's head, and though she wasn't sure what the exact nature of that look had been, being herself she'd taken it as a challenge to be prepared for the evening to come. And so, though she'd been intending to take a long break after the long patrol of the night before, after a couple of hours of napping the Scot rose with fire from her bed, an energy which she carried over once she reached the Training Facility. It seemed a slightly odd place to Nessie, filled with junk, scrap and debris, not exactly what you'd call well kept. From the central arena she could just about make out a few faces up in the viewing stalls, including Ozma and her trademark red hair, as well as a couple of others- both familiar and unfamiliar. The majority of those in the room were stood at her side however, various members from the two patrol groups. Almost everyone, if not everyone, had shown up it seemed. Mind you, given what she'd seen of Valeria earlier, she wouldn't want to be caught skiving off her class. With Valeria's arrival to address the students from on top of a scrap heap, it now quickly became clear why exactly they were gathered in what essentially seemed to be a glorified junkyard. There was surprise, wonderment and anticipation in Nessie's eyes as the stern yet odd German Magical Girl sculpted a foe with her powers, creating complicated mechanisms from the junk strewn about the chamber to create a large metal foe. A fusion between a hornet and some kind of bear towered over the group, a mechanical monster that seemed to mimic a Pageless in its nature and build. And, like with many activities Nessie had partaken in so far during her time in the world of Magical Girls, the key was teamwork. Once Valeria's explanation was over, as the walls of the scrapyard rose up to keep the battle as contained as possible, Nessie brought out her Grimoire, her uniform glowing before morphing into her witch attire. The Lady of the Lake was ready, and though the mention of explosive rounds added to the mix was a surprise for her, she at least had her broom to help with her mobility. And lucky she did as well, the metal Pageless' first attack coming fast right out of the gate, dirt and debris tossed hazardously around as the deadly drill bore its way towards the girls. "Shit!" The Scot exclaimed her surprise in the way that came most naturally to her, hastily hopping onto her broom before zipping off in the nick of time, swerving around to the mechanical beast's side. Separated from the others in the party as she was, Nessie was fairly confident she could pull this off with them, just so long as she paid attention to when they all were attacki- "Fuck, they're attacking!" Nessie's colourful language came out once again in a panicked spurt as she realised, a little late, that the rest of the group had already sent their attacks towards that vulnerable glowing core Valeria had referenced before. It was ok though, there was still time to send her own attack into the fray, especially with how quick her water spells usually travelled. Hurriedly she focussed her energy, pulling her hands back before forcefully thrusting them forward, and...! Nothing, well, barely anything. A small spurt that you might see from a dodgy garden hose spluttered out towards the junkyard amalgamation, pattering uselessly against its armoured shell. What Nessie hadn't realised nor taken into account was that, as opposed to the environment she'd been in only hours before during the storm, there was no water in the training facility she could use to aide or boost her attacks. Her fight with the wraith Pageless had made her cocky; if she wanted to produce anything close to as powerful as she'd conjured up then, she'd need time and focus. "You have got to be taking the pi-" For now though, all she was getting was a sharp impact with the large pile of scrap Valeria had used as a standing podium, her lack of attention to her surroundings after her surprisingly disappointing display coming back to whack her across the face, quite literally. Her broom flung to the side, a small bruised lump quickly began to form on Nessie's forehead after she'd acquainted herself with a now slightly dented steel bar, leaving her temporarily vulnerable to attack. "Uh, guys, I need a wee bit of help!" Nessie scrambled nervously in place, afraid to move in case she fell off the scrapheap, but afraid to stand still like a sitting duck for the mechanical beast to take its drill to.</s>
<\|description\|>Nessie Burns Age: 19 Nationality: Scottish Appearance: Description: A fairly rambunctious and stubborn girl, Nessie isn't dissimilar to your average Scotsman. She can display quite a tough and, at times, even rude and imposing exterior when in the company of strangers. Around friends she is brash, cheeky and can be quite loud, frequently poking fun at those she surrounds herself with. Equally, though, she also enjoys her own company, her favourite passtime being sitting by or swimming in a lake, especially one surrounded by beautiful scenery. Definitely the outdoors type. She loves a good drink though, and will never say no to having a pint in a nice pub. Biography: Born in the Scottish Highlands, Nessie comes from a fairly wealthy background, her childhood home a rural manor house within an idyllic setting. Mountains, hills, woodland and lakes as far as the eye can see. The perfect place for an adventurous young girl like her, and still it remains her favourite place. Her parents work in... well, that she's not really sure of. Never has been, even to this day and age. And it's not like she's had many opportunities to ask them either. At a young age she was sent to a prestigious boarding school for girls in Edinburgh, to both heighten her education and to keep her somewhere while her parents were away from home working. And it is there that she has remained most of her life since then. Even when school is out, she usually goes to stay with her uncle, who lives in an apartment not too far from her school, and with whom she's built quite a strong connection with over the years. After finishing school at the age of 18 however, she didn't really know what to do with herself. She would go between the Highlands and Edinburgh, aimlessly inhabiting each of her homes while thinking of what she wanted to do with her life. Though she had done well at school, it felt like something was missing. It went on like this for a year until her uncle, noticing her rut and seeing the effect it was having on her, recommended a change of scenery for the girl. A breath of fresh air (metaphorically speaking) and an opportunity to see her future more clearly, whether that was university or immediately starting a career. And so now Nessie finds herself in London, the heart and the capital of England. And yet still, even with such a dramatic change in surroundings from where she was previously based, and with so many opportunities and paths right at her fingertips, the girl still feels as though she hasn't found what's right for her yet. Not only that, but since arriving in London she can't help but feel unusual. Strange flickers at the corner of her eye occasionally catch her attention, unexplainable shapes looming around her only to disappear as soon as she puts her full attention on them. Perhaps something there is something coming her way, a path she never could've expected... Grimoire • Title: The Loch Ness Monster • Classification: Legend • Description: One of the ultimate creatures of folk lore, the phenomenon of the Loch Ness Monster has its roots way back in the sixth century, though most of its notoriety bubbled up in the late 19th and 20th centuries. The illusive long-necked creature, described by some to be a sea serpent or dragon living deep within the waters of Loch Ness, has created ripples throughout history with its disputed existence, gradually being pulled more and more into the limelight of contention until becoming the staple of the paranormal that it is today. And so its legend is reflected in its equally illusive Grimoire. A story that, to this day and perhaps even far into the future, has not seen its end. • Abilities: The Undine - At will, Nessie is able to manipulate any water around her and bend it completely to her will. She can also summon water out of thin air if required, but that takes more energy and control to do, so don't expect her to be summoning reservoirs of water with no difficulty right off the bat. It'll take training to get anywhere close to that. Misty Waters - Like the monster itself, Nessie can disappear herself out of thin air. The only catch is that she may only remain invisible as long as she can hold her breath. There is a loophole to this ability however, as shown with the next one. The Loch's Blessing - These are more passive abilities than anything, but they can definitely come in handy, especially in a city that contains a massive river (looks at London). The Grimoire grants Nessie with incredibly swift swimming speed, making her look like a blur to anyone above the surface. On top of this she can also breathe, hear and see completely clearly when underwater, almost as if she were on normal ground. The final blessing is the loophole to her Misty Waters ability, which is that she can turn invisible for as long as she wishes when underwater, essentially ignoring its limitation. Of course, most battles would probably take place above water so this ability may not always be as useful as it sounds, but in the right situation, as well as clever usage, it can provide Nessie with an invaluable edge.</s> <\|message\|>Celina Kennedy, Lupin Lupin chuckled at Olivia's reaction. Though as they talked, it appeared a small crowd had gathered around the new girl. Man, animal eared magicals really must be a rarity around here. Regardless, she did her best to keep up with them. The beauty had asked her another few questions. But before she could answer, the wolf girl felt an arm wrap around her waist and carry her off. Okay. This was happening, she guessed. Blinking, she waved fairwell-for-now to Olivia, then turned her head to her apathetic snatcher who introduced herself as Silvia. Guess Celina didn't have to worry about finding a partner after all. When asked if she would rather walk to the library after a moment, she simply shrugged. "I can walk." Days passed as Lupin gradually got settled into her new school life. She got assigned the same classes as other new students, even Olivia surprisingly! Dorming arrangements she didn't mind what they'd settle with, but it'd take a bit to decorate her side and such, what with her spending a good bulk of her time training with Stripes. Something she learned quick was that despite the group as a whole working as a team, the tabby's power sorta goes against that. A "Less is more" type of deal. Luckily, Silvia and her worked well despite the drawback. Few words were spoken between them, mostly from Celina wanting to get to know her new teammate. Then soon enough, Lupin was going off on her first patrol with Marrywell's finest. She walked up next to Stripes, tucking her ears back under her hood and quietly nodding to the others. Ozma turned out to be the one leading, her and Maria giving out similar speeches. Admittedly, she wasn't paying much attention to that. She did get the gist though, be careful, work together, that sort of thing. Silvia and Suzuya talked a bit about Pizza for some reason. A post-op lunch did sound good to the wolf, if the flesh of Pageless wasn't enough to satiate this time. Then the former told her they should split up from the main group if anything crops up. Lupin nodded, idly twirling one of her knives in her hand. "Bullet hell, got it. Ready when you are." With a flick of the wrist, the single knife seemingly divided into three, resting inbetween her fingers.</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance LILAC SHIMMER Lilac stared at Tesni. The kind of staring that meant it was pretty clear she wasn't getting all of this, but she was trying really hard and didn't want to mess up. "So, um.. If I...." Lilac took a moment to try and process, her face visibly focusing. "You can only be so strong alone so you're learning to ask for not-help?" Lilac, it seemed, chose an unusual way to parse the situation, and dance around Tesni's offering/not receiving hang-up. She was hesitant at first, but grew in confidence as she got the ball rolling. "In that case, I'm truly flattered you'd consider someone like me someone you could ask for not-help! At your call, what drink would you like?" Clutching hand to heart, she took a bow to offer her service. But apparently she thought she was helping with getting a drink? "I will admit, I'm looking forward to the team up thing now that I'm over the bee fight. Everyone's gonna come up with so much cool stuff to see!" Lilac definitely seemed on board with the idea, a bounce in her step not only from the springs.</s>	<\|message\|>Nessie Burns The days following the training exercise had been strange for Nessie. Not that anything in the world of Marrywell was exactly normal to the young Magical Girl just yet, but even within that context things felt off. No doubt it was connected to her failure to protect herself and assist her friends against the faux-Pageless Valeria had set the whole group up against. She didn't understand. She'd done it before, harnessed her grimoire's energy and inflict attacks of incredible scale and power upon her foes. So why not then? This was what she spent the following hours and days contemplating; as her classmates began to understand their grimoire's better and trained to increase their capabilities, Nessie was stuck in limbo as her perceived understanding on her own grimoire slipped further and further away and her ability remained stagnant. Her free time and time in classes became consumed by her considerations, her mind in a totally different place than those around her as she dug to find an answer. In reality, the reason had simply been that at the time there had been no water around to help enhance her attacks, but in her overthinking and desperation she'd removed herself even further from the powers of her grimoire. So caught up in her own thoughts was Nessie, that the redhead barely even took notice of the new faces in the group as they gathered outside Marrywell's entrance at the behest of Ozma and the other staff members who had supervised them as of late. She didn't even approach Stripes, her previous saviour and the very person who had guided her to her grimoire in the first place. Her usual fiery nature was gone and it was clear to anyone that looked her way that she wasn't entirely present, a somewhat numb expression on her face. She kept to herself, with no real group to speak of given her lack of communication with even her closer friends in the time since the exercise. The young Scot appeared unemotive towards the instructions given to them by their teachers, simply conjuring her broom as they were told and mounting it in complete silence, save for a deep, sighing exhale. She wasn't thrilled at the prospect of a patrol at the moment, especially if she couldn't even do anything against any Pageless that might show themselves. "Fuck's sake..." She muttered coldly to herself, before kicking off the ground sharply to follow along Ozma's lead with everyone else. It was time to return to London.</s>
<\|description\|>Self explanatory. CHARACTER SHEET Age: Self explanatory. Nationality: Marrywell Academy is a global school and front for the Grand Ministry, welcoming Magical Girls from all corners of the world. Where do you hail from? Appearance: Self explanatory, both for transformed states and regular clothes. Description: A brief description of your character. This can include bits of personality, backstory, likes and dislikes, etc. Above all else, describe how they became a Magical Girl and their thoughts on the Grand Ministry. Grimoire: Every Magical Girl begins her story with one unique Grimoire, a mystical story book that somehow found its way into her possession. • Title: One defining trait of all Grimoires is that they are copies of fairytales and other stories of our world. They are similar enough that you can use them as the basis for the naming and powers granted by the books. • Classification: Under the Grand Ministry's ranks for all Magical Girls, what classification does your Grimoire fall under. This determines the level of your power, rank, and experience among other Magical Girls. • Description: A brief description of the contents of your Grimoire regarding the tale it embodies. • Abilities: What kind of powers, weapons, gear, etc does the Grimoire grant to your character? Misc: Trivia, theme songs, or anything else not covered above should go here.</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance LILAC SHIMMER Lilac had pulled herself back a little as attack after attack poured into the great Pageless. Wielding a melee weapon and not exactly knowing everyone's plans, it would make an ill-end to get splashed by someone aiming a grand attack at the Pageless, of which there were many. Aha, and there was even a new magical girl? She'd be the right person for the job. Or, wow, look at that thing-... what even was that, um, well, look at it go. Uh, good job...? Lilac took another half step back, quite happy she hadn't remained in melee. And then she felt Goodhope's power pour into herself again. Wait, what should she do? She glanced left and right. She didn't want to go anywhere near the foe right now! She didn't have any ranged attacks. Should she throw a rock? Oh god, Captain Goodhope was giving it all and she was just standing there doing nothing! "NYAAGH!" Lilac panicked, and gave a strangled cry as she lobbed Joyeuse at the enemy, feeling she had to do something at least. Even with Captain Goodhope's buff, thanks to Lilac's mental state and the fact that Joyeuse was not a ranged weapon, it smacked into the side of the Pageless to... moderate effect. At least it was a punctuating element to Wilhemina's own volley of ranged firepower. And, now there was a magical sword sticking to the side of the Pageless, if that was helpful to anyone. For a few moments, Lilac stayed frozen in her post-throwing pose, arms outstretched, as her brain worked overtime. ~How do I make that look like I did it on purpose?~</s> <\|message\|>Nessie Burns Nessie, in all her good humour, burst into a fit of laughter as she saw the state of her opponent, crumpled back with a leg lost to one of her new acquaintances. It was a boisterous hooting, perhaps to be expected of a loud Scottish girl like herself, one of those wheezing laughs that was difficult not to at least crack a smile at with how contagious it was. In fact, the redheaded witch only descended further into roaring and guffawing when the wounded Pageless, now with only one limb to stand on, sprung back up with fury in its deeply angered crimson eyes. It began charging with reckless abandon towards her, the intent to kill and destroy the newly awakened Magical Girl trickled heavily into the air it shot through, its hateful aura darkening the atmosphere. At a certain point, Nessie manged to compose herself though, belly laughter simmering down to no more than a smirk on the girl's face. A soothing hand placed on her shoulder helped her with that, and indeed with calming any nerves she might have been feeling and disguising. Not only that however, but there was something else. Almost immediately, she began to feel lighter atop the ground, her legs springier and her body just... buzzing, somehow. Like an influx of energy and warmth passed onto her through that soft palm laid on her, power granted from one Magical Girl to another. Needless to say, it spurred Nessie on. She turned around briefly, offering a quick but genuine smile to the angelic figure behind her. She didn't really know her yet, nor any of the other girls who she'd seen fighting and helping her, but she assured herself that she'd thank them properly once this whole mess was over. And then there'd probably be more than a few questions to follow. "Thanks!" But for now, a brief show of appreciation was all she really had time for, the very real threat of the raging Pageless getting closer and closer with increasing speed. She went to meet that threat head-on, hopping on top of her broomstick and balancing on it with surprising ease. A new kind of instinct had awakened within her, shown as clearly as the light of the stars reflected by her outfit. And towards those stars she went, shooting up in the air to match the tremendous speed of her main target, and also to meet its eyeline. Soon she was high up above the ground, her face the very picture of snark and determination. "Right you! I don't know what I'm doing with my life, but it sure as bloody hell won't end here with you! Y'understa- oh shit-" Instinct doesn't always come with the skill to wield, however. It was almost funny how ironic it was: one of Nessie's legs completely slipping off of the broomstick, towards the end of her confident proclamation. The Pageless could maybe take some solace in knowing that it wasn't the only one on the battlefield that day to lose its balance, but it would be the only one to fall. Quick reflexes, no doubt helped in some part by that boost in abilities she'd received only a minute or two before, granted the girl a second chance, a hand snapping onto the broom to leave her dangling off it. It wasn't the best time to be this precariously positioned, but the strength of her grip made one thing clear- she wasn't going to let go. "I'm not dying here..." Nessie muttered, her words meant for herself, more than a direct defiance of the impending dooms that could have befallen her. Her face dropped gradually, relaxing into a solemn expression as she closed her eyes. More indistinct muttering followed, the words lost even to her own ears, but that didn't matter as such. It was the thought of them that counted. Her free arm was raised up towards the oncoming monster, gesturing, aiming, homing in on it. A rumble. There was a shimmer in the air as Nessie concentrated more, wincing to channel that borrowed extension of her current power to its absolute maximum. Another rumble. A more obvious shimmer, like the air itself was shaking. Something was coming. There was a moment of utter silence on the battlefield. For everyone, except Nessie. Her eyes opened slightly as another fleeting presence was felt for a moment. Indicated only by a red blur flashing past her vision as she regained her sight. An attack? A new friend or foe? As if on cue to interrupt those questioning thoughts that immediately came to her mind, she felt a light pat on her back. Barely enough to sway her forwards, but with a warm touch that felt very real to the redhead. "Do your best." The words came gently, softly whispered into her ear, as lingering as briefly as the blur that had caught her eye only seconds before. There was something special about those words, and whoever was saying them to her. Something that spurred her on in a way no power-up ever could. Something to dwell on later, but for now, the message was clear. She'd do her best. All of a sudden, an eruption of noise gave way to a torrent of water materialising from Nessie's outstretched palm. Like a dragon hungry for its prey it burst on forward, growing in both scale and pressure until it dwarfed its caster, rivalling the size of the Pageless just ahead. The water spiralled and twisted, the sound of it clashing with itself comparable to the growl of a great beast. It was almost like the water itself was alive. The unyielding, torrential pressure of the water cyclone ripped right through its target, a huge chunk of the dark creature, including its head and lower body, engulfed by the oncoming storm. A storm that tore and mauled its target for all it was worth, showing no mercy while Nessie kept her hand raised. Until it was enough. As Nessie lowered her arm, her concentration and energy spent, the crashing of waves against the mechanical Pageless ceased. It had probably been killed by the first few impacts, there was no need to drag this out longer. And so the storm passed, the water clearing away into the air past its fallen foe, dissipating away, until only a few stray droplets floating along mindlessly in the sky were evidence that it had ever been there at all.</s>	<\|message\|>Self explanatory. There was too much going on, too much for the Pageless to react to; such was the true strength of Magical Girls. It was not by one fell blow but many decisive ones in unity that led to the Pageless' destruction. Indeed, so rapid were the attacks that it barely had time to react to Nessie's splurge of magical force, let alone prepare itself to counter. With one sword, holy and divine sticking out of its body and another, albeit less flashy, embedded in the other side, the Pageless rocked to and fro with near-comedic distortions and proportions. It wasn't helped that its massive, mechanical body was pelted with musket fire and eldritch beams alike. Its rage and its hatred bellowed out into the dying embers of the night, just as dawn began to peak over the horizon. But that too was smothered out, drowned by the literal force of Nessie's newfound power. The first hit tore a hole clean through the Pageless' body, the sheer force and pressure of the water ripping through as if the nightmarish creature was little more than tissue paper. Lilac Shimmer's sword flew right out of its body from the sudden impact. The next hits tore it asunder completely and its own dark essence mitigated with the air, joining the dissolving water that was Nessie's magic. What was left of the monster collapsed, its form dissolving back to the shadows of stories where it once came. The Pageless failed once again, for now. A new story was borne into the world and the darkness receded away once more. Even the once hostage civilians were rescued, long since deposited just outside the work site. The Magical Girls could see the Pageless' curses lose their effect on them and each one shook their heads as if spurned from a bad dream. However, their safety and movement out of harm's way of the battle wouldn't be by their hands, at least by no Magical Girl currently among them. Miracles came in small doses indeed. It would only take some magic to return the construction site back to normal, erasing all evidence and trace that a fight of light and darkness once took place on its grounds. A spell wouldn't be needed to keep the civilians ignorant of their true peril, not when all of them grumbled about bad hangovers and groggily wasting the night away just to walk to work now. Once all introductions and formalities were taken care of, there of course came the course of Ministry work. With the mission successful, each and every one of them were expected to return to Marrywell Academy not only to report their mission briefings, but to also embrace some well-deserved rest in their dorms. The most prevalent issue at hand lay in Nessie herself. Life as she knew it was gone forever, replaced only by the Grand Ministry and the world of Magical Girls. By the time they'd reach Marrywell Academy, the sun was already shining up high and above to greet a new morning. </s>
<\|description\|>Self explanatory. CHARACTER SHEET Age: Self explanatory. Nationality: Marrywell Academy is a global school and front for the Grand Ministry, welcoming Magical Girls from all corners of the world. Where do you hail from? Appearance: Self explanatory, both for transformed states and regular clothes. Description: A brief description of your character. This can include bits of personality, backstory, likes and dislikes, etc. Above all else, describe how they became a Magical Girl and their thoughts on the Grand Ministry. Grimoire: Every Magical Girl begins her story with one unique Grimoire, a mystical story book that somehow found its way into her possession. • Title: One defining trait of all Grimoires is that they are copies of fairytales and other stories of our world. They are similar enough that you can use them as the basis for the naming and powers granted by the books. • Classification: Under the Grand Ministry's ranks for all Magical Girls, what classification does your Grimoire fall under. This determines the level of your power, rank, and experience among other Magical Girls. • Description: A brief description of the contents of your Grimoire regarding the tale it embodies. • Abilities: What kind of powers, weapons, gear, etc does the Grimoire grant to your character? Misc: Trivia, theme songs, or anything else not covered above should go here.</s> <\|message\|>María de Borbón @TheWendil@Majoras End Maria had failed to notice the amassing group of students that came to watch the training and only really took note of them when Charlotte caught their attention. "You really are that known, are you not, Charlotte? That is quite formidable." Maria said, answering her companion's question with a smile - the first honest smile since she walked to the girls' side. Maria followed that by ignoring Charlotte's comment about needing girls like her. She, of course, disagreed. Maria felt like her presence was a potential risk to everyone around her...but that train of thoughts was redundant. She felt there was no need to bring it up out loud and, anyway, had a creeping suspicion that Charlotte might already know how Maria felt inside. She followed Charlotte away from the crowd, remaining silent at first. She had briefly heard of what had happened but only in whispers. Charlotte, if she was to be believed of course, confirmed it. Of course the Ministry would keep such dangerous news hidden from them. Maria sighed, looking down. News of a rogue magical girl was bad enough - and in a way terrifying - and they wanted her mixed in all of it? It was as if the Ministry twisted her fears on purpose in the worst ways possible. "I am afraid you might be right." she answered the the red head's last bit about getting used to her designed role and finding a teammate. "It cannot be avoided. I just hope that they will accept my presence. Very well then, Miss Clementine. I thank you for your time and wish you well." Maria politely bowed her farewell to Ozma and made her way down to the arena, arriving shortly after the blonde haired girl, Celina. Maria would also walk closer and give the same polite bow she gave Charlotte just moments earlier - an act of etiquette clearly betraying her real age. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Miss Lupin." she began by answering the newcomer. "My name is Maria de Borbón. It's a pleasure to meet all of you, truly. I had the pleasure of watching the end of your previous training exercise and was... impressed." Maria deemed unnecessary to mention out loud why she was sent here just yet. She did not know how the group would react to that, and did not wish to pass as pompous or pretentious. She then walked closer towards Valeria, who was in her conjured vehicle still. "Greetings, Miss Weizenbaum. Could I possibly have a word with you if possible?"</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance LILAC SHIMMER Bonnie took some time to regain her footing on the ground and steady out, be which time Nessie had already moved on. "Eh? That's it?" She stared in confusion at the mecha monstrosity's ease of disintegration. "I guess that was like, four of us attacking at the same time? I thought it was supposed to be all of us." Then came Valeria's assessment, and Lilac's brow furrowed. "That's not how this is supposed to work. It's supposed to not work the first time, and then the failure teaches us to do all the stuff you're talking bout now, right? This would make a terrible story moral! Don't do the stuff that worked fine?" One of the few things that seemed able to get Lilac worked up was when the magical girl stuff wasn't working out like it was 'supposed' to. "Unless like, this is the moment of hubris and a giant super Pageless only defeatable by teamwork shows up later?" She paused for a moment, and then bounced up to the edge of the arena and peered over it to double check, just in case. Glancing back and forth, she was not quick to find any giant Pageless sneaking up on the school. Lilac crossed her arms, a little upset at another team thing so soon after the other one... "I suppose team names and attacks are fun..." Lilac begrudgingly admitted, and finally lightened up a bit again, now starting to feel a little silly over being upset. Hopefully no one had been paying attention to her since she hadn't been talking to anyone in particular. As Lilac started looking around again, she noticed a couple of new faces... since when did they have a cute doggo girl? Was she someone's familiar like Rose's friend or a magical girl? Eh, either way, Lilac decided to wave to the newcomers, before thinking more about partners. It seemed like while she was focusing on other things, Lilac missed the talk about becoming closer to one's Grimoire, but, just as well, it seemed quite a few people were following that path already. Oddly enough it was Tesni who caught Lilac's ear. Huh, Tesni seemed to make a little sense, wait what was that about weakness? Why would someone want to be weak? Lilac didn't seem to get that. She decided to walk closer, her earlier hesitance forgotten in curiousity, and perhaps a spirit of camaraderie over unsatisfaction with the battle. "Um, I'm not sure I get that. Are you saying like, being the strongest would be boring because you don't have room to improve?" Lilac tried explaining what she thought Tesni said as a way to hopefully get correction on what Tesni meant.</s> <\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Suzuya Kuzunoha The lessons were concluded for the night, or so Burning Heart believed, her attention pulled from peers and students to find what should have been a lesson was more a spectator sport. How embarrasing would it have been had they failed miserably with so many seniors and peers watching over them? The vulpine Magical Girl shuddered and chose to hop off of Xolys shoulder as more new faces came from stand and shadow alike to either introduce themselves or peruse them like one does a merchant's wares. With a slow blink, Burning Heart stopped, reconsidering that maybe her sour impressions of, well, the entire landmass of England and all therein, was making her a touch paranoid. Her transformation unfurled around her, a swirl of flame the rose dispersed on the wind to leave skittish, old Suzuya in her place. In Xolys shadow. Her heart slammed into her throat and she nearly bit her tongue stiffling the imminent urge to shriek. But...she knew he wasn't slimy. That counted for a lot, even without her Grimoire girding her will actively, and she tentatively reached her hand out. Just a pat, light and brief as though expecting to bitten, before withdrawing to her side. She'd touched him, and he was most definetly dry! The blonde perked up, imaginary ears wiggling atop her head before she remembered she wasn't a fox at the moment- Err, at all! "I think I can sleep without transforming tonight..." She murmured, hands curling under her chin as pulled her sweater to hide the excited flush of her cheeks and the giddy pull to her lips. There was a pleased warmth coming from her Grimoire, and she wondered if she actually needed a tuner to get in touch with it.</s> <\|message\|>Valeria Weizenbaum Valeria's lessons were not clicking like she wanted them to. She had hoped to be the cool teacher that let the students do the fun stuff the more conservative staff would not allow, but things were not so easy. Perhaps she wouldn't be a natural fit for this role as she had thought but she quickly cast those doubts aside. "Oh I wanted to go easy on ze kinder. Now I am regretting my choices. They performed very well! No problems on the surface." Valeria greeted Ozma with a wave and her trademark enthusiasm. She'd clap her metal hands together and return her attention to her protesting students. Suzuya's glare did not go unnoticed, and Valeria was tempted to respond back by sticking her tongue at her. She'd have to remind herself she's supposed to be a good role model and Ozma was counting on her. Instead, she'd take all three girls together in a tight group hug enforced by her steely metal arms, bringing them all together. Probably not much more mature, but Valeria was a hugger. "Listen. My comments were not meant to be so harsh! You destroyed that hulking beast in a single maneuver, very impressive and your power is in no doubt! But the Ministry does not like lone wolves, I learned that the hard way." She'd pause a bit, recalling very specific memories. "It is not about who is strongest or who is weakest, Lilac and Tensi. I thought that way myself once! I am a big angry German war machine, and I can summon anything I want at my disposal! Why would I ever want to work with a team, they'd get in my way! I thought that way for a long time...and then one day my arm was nearly destroyed in the middle of a battle against a Pageless. Ozma actually saved my life there, with her grimoire. Our stories make us strong but stories are not told alone, they are shared in a group. That is what I've learned. To value what the stories of others can bring to you, and they can make the grimoires you carry even stronger." Valeria blinked after she finished speaking, shocked to hear herself open up so much. She's left wondering if she was spouting complete bullshit or very insightful teacher commentary. She'd let everyone else be the judge of that. She'd release the students and give them a wave goodbye. "But either way, don't hide your feelings. I appreciate the honesty from you all. Now if you'll excuse me I think I am being called away..." Maria finally arrived, and summoned Valeria away from her students. She'd give her farewells and last minute commendations before observing the lovely new lady. Drossel had her items to offer to the class and she did not want to get in the way of her. Always had to help a fellow German. "Don't call me Miss! Val or Valeria is fine! What do you require of me? I don't think you plan to become my student too, ja?"</s>	<\|message\|>Self explanatory. It sounded like the students were wrapping up their night class. Charlotte kept one ear on the arena and one on Maria and the newly introduced Celina. It wouldn't be long before everyone was dismissed back to their dorms for the night but for now, they had a minute or two to lounge about. After all, the only consequence was, of course, being late to their morning classes. Charlotte turned her full attention on Celina even as she gave Maria a nod and farewell wave. It was like night and day seeing the two girls beside each other, if only momentarily before Maria left to bother Valeria. The difference in their magic, the difference in their experience; it was like a contrasted conduction of energy between Maria and Celina. Soon enough Charlotte's instincts were confirmed when the blonde introduced herself as a new student. Somewhere in her head the redhead wondered if Celina assumed she was a teacher. Or maybe the Grand Minister set the new girl up to approach her? It was all coincidence and, frankly, doubtful. But one could never be too sure in a school where the dean predicted all possibilities. She was just about to welcome Celina as the new student she was before a rush of magic plumed in front of her. Gone was the blonde, now replaced with a stark red hood and wolven ears that could only mean she held the Little Red Riding Hood Grimoire. Charlotte's expression paused for a good moment before her eyes twinkled and smile widened. "Oh wow you're…so….cute!!!" The Crimson Comet was mere inches away from the new girl in a matter of moments, gaze sparkling as she looked up and down the wolf girl's transformation. "We haven't had a student with that kind of Grimoire yet! Your ears look so fluffy too! Can I pet em? I'm gonna pet em," the Brit said with confidence that would not be shaken. She did just that, marveling at how soft Lupin's ears were with gentle pats, the gray tufts just peeking out from under her hood. "So cool, so cuuuuute….oh, uh, welcome to Marrywell too. I'm, uh, not actually part of the staff so…." Charlotte unconsciously kept patting even as she said, "I can point you to a teacher but your schedule should be in your dorm by the time ya get there." </s>
<\|description\|>Self explanatory. CHARACTER SHEET Age: Self explanatory. Nationality: Marrywell Academy is a global school and front for the Grand Ministry, welcoming Magical Girls from all corners of the world. Where do you hail from? Appearance: Self explanatory, both for transformed states and regular clothes. Description: A brief description of your character. This can include bits of personality, backstory, likes and dislikes, etc. Above all else, describe how they became a Magical Girl and their thoughts on the Grand Ministry. Grimoire: Every Magical Girl begins her story with one unique Grimoire, a mystical story book that somehow found its way into her possession. • Title: One defining trait of all Grimoires is that they are copies of fairytales and other stories of our world. They are similar enough that you can use them as the basis for the naming and powers granted by the books. • Classification: Under the Grand Ministry's ranks for all Magical Girls, what classification does your Grimoire fall under. This determines the level of your power, rank, and experience among other Magical Girls. • Description: A brief description of the contents of your Grimoire regarding the tale it embodies. • Abilities: What kind of powers, weapons, gear, etc does the Grimoire grant to your character? Misc: Trivia, theme songs, or anything else not covered above should go here.</s> <\|message\|>Tesni Edris Title: Dynasty Queen Tesni She hadn't anticipated being among the first guests to arrive, escorted by the host no less, and Tesni did raise an eyebrow when Bonnie offered her arm but she wasn't so dense as to not take the host up on their offer. "Off we go then to the mysterious music room then." Linking arms with Bonnie they meandered their way towards the room when Bonnie stopped and Tesni not wanting to pull her arm off followed suit as Bonnie offered a confused explanation. "You know what, Bon Bon? I think I believe you that this castle that's kiiinda hard to miss wasn't here yesterday. Shocking as this may sound, we do go to this school, and I think if a castle had been here all this time I'd hope one of us would have heard of it by now… also we have magical abilities derived from works of literature and historical epics so I don't find it all that surprising that rumours could also take on a life of their own like this." Pausing for a bit, looking through the threshold to the new castle interior Tesni clicked her tongue in thought. "I wonder if spreading rumours can make other stuff happen too…" Admiring the architecture of the castle Tesni tapped her foot on the ground as if testing it still somewhat in disbelief that it was even there. It feels weird that I'm able to accept so much now with 'whatever, it's magic'. I could probably use my detect evil vision thing to see if there's anything nefarious behind all this… but that feels like picking up a book and just reading the last chapter. Pretty rude, especially since if it's not actually magic someone went to a lot of effort for this. Letting Bonnie and Olivia acquaint themselves as the prospective leaders of this sleepover before silently joining in with Bonnie's amazement at the swimming pool before tearing her gaze away. "Hiya Liv, hiya Silvy. I feel like the collective we haven't talked much lately, good to see you both though. No, I don't count talks on the battlefield as having a nice chat, thanks for asking Silvy." Shooting Silvia an impish wink she briefly turned her attention to Olivia and Bonnie more fully. "Unlike Bonnie I haven't brought anything except myself, never quite sure what to bring to these things. I was too busy being a rascally little schemer before this magical business to go to these things." Cracking her neck with a loud pop Tesni let out a sigh. "So, who are we waiting on? I only got an invitation, not a guest… list…?" Raising an eyebrow she heard the kingly voice grating her ears before seeing the silhouette in the doorway… and she just couldn't resist getting a little dig in at Chinami. "Whaaat? You mean this isn't a mystical summoning of castle Camelot during a time of great peril? Do you want to go looking for a throne to sit on, Chinami~?" chuckling to herself, Tesni looked over to Bonnie with an apologetic smile. "I know, I know, I'm sorry Bon bon, I know it's not a great way to kick off festivities but c'mon! We have a castle and a knight, it's too perfect~!"</s> <\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Suzuya Kuzunoha Like Olivia, Suzuya had opted to come in her transformed state, and for once it wasn't for the mental girding she was so reliant upon to keep herself from crushed by the heaps of misery in jolly old England. No, it was the simple fact that nine fluffy, self warming tails were very comfortable to sleep with. Especially once she got her pajamas magically refit with a tail hole and cover flap. Coming up behind Xolys' shrouded bulk had her arriving somewhat seperate from her roommate due to not wanting to step on the occasional tendril trailing behind the bedsheet, though with someone as dazzling as Olivia it was easy to go undetected in her more contemporary flannel. The irony of the fair lady dressing in eastern sleep wear wasn't lost and roused a soft smile as Suzuya entered to find a castle in place of a music room. "Eh, I've seen bigger and in far worse condition. Needs more fire and splintered wood." Suzuya slipped in and out of her Grimoire's influence, letting the surprise roll off her back like water upon a mallard as she walked in to see the group was fairly split between introverts and extroverts, with someone Suzuya had hoped not to see again asking pointed questions that Tesni was deflecting lest they sour the fun. "Chinami, we can't exclude people if they want to join the sleepover. So long as they aren't disruptive, this is school property and open to whatever student wishes to join. It's not like we made a club for late night ghost stories and naps." The foxy Magical Girl dismissively waved her hand side to side, putting the concerns aside when there were others eager to have fun. She'd heard Bonnie mention her as she was stuck behind Xolys and quirked her head in a manner that had her ears bounce and twitch. "You still wanna explore? I can bring the mood lighting." And she meant that literally, as she reached into her tail and pulled out an old fashioned torch, the smell of pitch and crackle of flame blooming into existence before her as she held the gnarled wood between them. "And before you ask, no, you can't burn down the school. I'd have thought it was obvious that I can snuff out my flames on command, but some didn't seem to notice that."</s>	<\|message\|>Self explanatory. Valeria's grand display wouldn't go unnoticed. As was expected, several school staff and older Magical Girls took account of the sudden extra building extending out from the ground's usual castle structure. Only, unlike the main buildings, this architect was darker and wafting with haunted flare. If the moats and spooky interior wasn't a clue for the décor, then the aesthetic fog wafting from the castle's open drawbridge like the noxious breath of a monster most foul certainly was. And the students clamored around its entrance dressed in assortment. Some older staff only shrugged the appearance of a new castle, either too used to the abnormal activity around Marrywell or assuming it was a renovation plan. After all, additional fortification for the school after a recent attack was expected. Others of course, had to be quelled swiftly by the Crimson Comet, who assured them there was nothing wrong with the students needing a relaxation period after Roma's incident. Indeed, several other little get togethers hobbled the school grounds though most kept their gatherings secluded to their dorm rooms. None were as extravagant as Valeria's great castle. What mattered most was the Grand Minister did nothing to stop either the building of such an elaborate party room or the party itself. Charlotte had a suspicion their leader would wave away justifications as simply more fortification for the school when they were done because that was exactly the excuse the redhead came up with just in case. When all was said and done, a small crowd hovered between the usual school grounds and Valeria's castle. "Hey that's a good point Tesni. You get a gold star!" came Charlotte's voice behind the group. "Rumors and superstition may as well be real in the magical world we deal in. A castle sprouting in the middle of the night seems about as convenient to me as anything else around here," she said with a wink towards Olivia. "What do you know, I just so happened to be dressed for the occasion." The Crimson Comet sided herself beside Chinami, expression as bright as usual. "Long time no see there. Looks like we had the same idea for costumes huh? Well, since Suzuya's correct that this is open school grounds, I don't think anyone would mind me tagging along right? Not like I'm gonna rat you out anyway. Who do you think I am, a teacher?" Charlotte waved her arms in dramatic fashion, painting wide circles in the air as if to emulate one of the staff. When she was finished, she directed the students towards their open castle with another arm sweep, keeping beside Chinami. "After you of course. Never thought your first appearance back would be at a sleepover. Maybe you really are a Magical Girl after all Chinami~" Inside lay the grand room whose doors led to spiraling mazes and dungeons with too-realistic looking skeletons dangling from the walls. Of course, for those of the simpler crowd, the staircase led to their bedrooms for the night as well. Charlotte herself spied a couch near the fireplace as if silently calling dibs on it. </s>
<\|description\|>Valeria Weizenbaum Magical Girl Name: Waffenhändler Age: Appears 20 Nationality: Germany Appearance: Description: A feisty and wild girl from Bavaria who has been an occasional ally of the Grand Ministry in recent years. She is fiercely independent and prefers to keep her own path, driving the world in her mystical van to collect trinkets, talismans, and most importantly to her, metal junk to smith guns and prosthetics. She proudly immerses herself in punk culture from her homeland and never plays well with authorities. Her and Ozma go way back, and she was one of the first magical girls to work with her. She offers her services to the Grand Ministry these days as a vendor and sometimes helping hand. History: She was born with hypochrondroplasia or small limbed dwarfism in the 1940s during the Hitler years. At this time it was German Nazi party policy to euthanize the genetically inferior. Her family attempted to plead with the government for her life while she lay in the hospital. During her stay, she'd discover the fable story that'd become her grimoire and restore her limbs with silver metal. Fleeing Germany afterward filled her with a sense of independence, and a demand to travel the world around her instead of the culture that rejected her. With her new magical girl powers, she constantly edits and adds onto her limbs for herself and has found her trade in her producing, buying, finding, and selling just about any needed item in the magical world. Grimoire: Das Mädchen ohne Hände (The Girl Without Hands) Classification: Fable Description: An old german story over a miller's daughter who must give up her hands due to her father making a deal with the devil. She finds and falls in love with a King and is given new hands made of silver. Grimoire's Power: Incredible powers of creation with her prosthetic hands, able to mend and mold metal in seconds to create devices ranging from guns and artillery to cars and buildings. She is able to heat them up to smelt iron and adjust them into various tools to make herself into a living and breathing foundry. In a pinch, she can turn them into hand cannons and explode her enemies with shrapnel and cannon. She can also create shields, swords and just about anything she can physically imagine and bring to life with her silver hands. She is a huge fan of Einstürzende Neubauten, Kraftwerk, and Can.</s> <\|message\|>Lucette Delacroix --The Verdict-- @Ponn @Villamvihar Though the verdict request was quite rhetorical, Lumiere wasn't surprised by the blonde's answer, in fact, she expected it, she was Ethereal Rose after all. The seraph didn't reply directly though, for the Pageless already did more than enough to show just how feasible it was to engage diplomacy with these creatures. Aye, try talking to something that was both non-sapient and actively malicious, it'd go as well as attempting to pet a rabid fox. Also as expected, Lady of the Lake and Captain Goodhope's reactions were more inline to what was proper, through these things might seem obvious, one must also remember that these girls were quite new compared to herself, inarguably so for Nessie, this being only her third day since a grimoire came to her. Again, the Pageless unwittingly answered the redhead's question. Truly, there was only one way to deal with dangerous pests, extermination. Lumiere took a step float back to let her students deal with the trapped Pageless as according to their verdicts. The Witch of Loch Ness commanded the aquatic aspect of the storm to form a veritable spear of water as it was flung into the clawed reaper's chest. At the same time, the Captain of the Flying Dutchman seemed to awaken... something within her core. Lumiere's veil and dress fluttered in the chaotic winds and if the angel could feel the blossoming radiance of hope from the twintailed blonde, she didn't show it, content to just stay in the background. And then in happened, a burst of thunderous power as Goodhope commanded the ionic aspect of the hurricane to summon multiple bolts of lightning. Fortunately for Lumiere, being blinded by light was never an issue, for the Light of God could never be outshone. Between the aqua lance and hail of lightning, the already-wounded Pageless was turned inside-out, utterly destroyed down to the last atom. Another foe of mankind put down, as it should. The seraph returned her obelisks to form into wings behind her back after, feeling the foreboding atmosphere clearing up following the alpha pageless's demise. "Excellent work, girls, you have done well." She gave an appreciate nod at each of them, Ethereal Rose & Xolys, Captain Goodhope, and Lady of the Lake, all received one, "We complement each other's abilities and as mankind have shown us throughout our history, camaraderie is the greatest tool that we have, against any and all odds, remember that you're never alone." She paused for a moment to let her words sink in before turning her gaze to another part of her English metropolis, "Speaking of which, let's see if our comrades need assistance." before accelerating toward the other patrol squad's location, expecting her own squad to follow suit.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Bell (Magical Maiden Ethereal Rose) @Villamvihar@Sonnambula In apparent response to Olivia's musings, the captive Pageless lunged in her direction, the resulting glow as it struck Lumiere's radiant barrier allowing the blonde beauty to catch a glimpse of the twisted visage beneath the creature's tattered cloak. "Oh my!" she exclaimed, more fascinated than frightened. "Are you actually a zombie?" she inquired as she studied what little of the creature's corpse-like features she could perceive. Unfortunately for the overly inquisitive maiden, her companions were far less interested in the idea of a possible Q&A session with what was obviously a being of pure hate and malice. Not wasting any time, the impetuous Lady of the Lake conjured a massive spear out of the surrounding rain water and drove it into the heart of the captive Pageless. Olivia was slightly taken aback by the suddenness of the attack, but that was nothing compared to her shock at what happened next… With a surprised gasp, Olivia's grip on Xolys tightened as a mighty gust of wind tore through the group, blowing her azure gown and golden tresses behind her. However, this was not the work of the still-contained Pageless, but rather one of their own number. They could all feel it, a swirling vortex of arcane power, centered on Captain Goodhope. Being closest to her, Olivia was able to hear the maritime maiden, who had until now remained silent, her eyes closed in prayer, give voice to a soft whisper. An instant later, the girl's Grimoire manifested in midair before her, its gilded cover shining like the beacon of a lighthouse. Taking hold of it, Wilhelmina employed the tome's noticeably heightened powers to conjure what was essentially a miniature hurricane, which, combined with Nessie's aqua spear, rapidly tore the captive Pageless to shreds. "Goodness me!" Olivia exclaimed. "That was amazing Helmi!" she told her friend excitedly. "And so very intense!" Lumiere proceeded to commend the team on their performance, after which Olivia gave the angelic girl a brilliant smile. "Thank you very much!" she told her team leader. "And I don't think I'll ever forget that," she added, gazing up at her eldritch consort. "Not with darling Xolys at my side!" At Lumiere's suggestion that they check up on Camelot's team, the otherworldly beast in question pivoted to fly after the silver-haired seraph, paying careful attention to ensure that his two passengers were safely secured. "I wonder if they encountered a Pageless as well…" Olivia mused aloud. If so, she was very curious to learn what it looked like, although whatever it was, she had no doubt that it wouldn't pose any threat to a team led by so strong and experienced a Magical Girl as Camelot.</s> <\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Suzuya Kuzunoha What followed after the team's run-in with Moonlight Tsubasa was less a patrol and more a tense walkabout the city. If any of them had the presence to truly be keeping an eye out for Pageless they didn't find anything, but it was more likely attention would be turned inwards, at least for Suzuya. At least the rainy weather was a familiar comfort, the soft crackle of rain evaporating against her bushy tails forming a steady background noise she savored. Even with the awkwardness of the other team flying by to check in on them. And for all her frustration and discomfort, Suzuya didn't say a word of it. Slipping into the role of the shy foreighner was easy when it served a purpose, and it let her reach the academy without any further attempts at provocation. And Suzuya was quite aware she'd tried to provoke a response at the stupidest time, nearly re-igniting the conflict they'd barely averted with her slap to Camelot. Pride was not something Suzuya was used to holding in high regard, but her Grimoire was not something she felt she could stand to be insulted on top of everything else. She was no King Arthur and she was hardly to ever be known outside her home country, but it wasn't some great hero that had saved Suzuya from her first brush with the Pageless. It was the story of a warrior wife who lived for love, only to suffer as her supposed allies betrayed her and placed insurmountable odds before her that claimed the life of her heart's dearest. Suzuya blinked, a moment of realization dawning upon her and snapping her from her thoughts to notice steam no longer wafted from her cup of green tea. Sitting beneath an umbrella-covered table in Merrywell's courtyard, her magic keeping her dry and cozy as she looked out over the grounds. She found herself waiting for her room mate, the elegant Alter with her terrifying paramour that Suzuya found a newfound desire to connect with. Her likely deepseeded trust issues aside, she found the hypocrisy of judging Camelot while following her mistakes simply impossible to swallow. Even if it proved...difficult, she was going to get to know her roommate.</s>	<\|message\|>Valeria Weizenbaum As Ozma walked the halls of Marrywell Academy, something exciting was unfolding. With the sound of thunder, a large explosion bursts up from the right wing of the school. An entire classroom went up into smoke as students poured out through the halls in fear and panic, thinking they were under attack. A fire alarm would ring and sprinklers would spray cold water across the halls. All of this certainly got the attention of Ozma and any other students who had arrived at the academy. The culprit would step out from the smoke and dust, coughing and blowing the smoke from her face with a wave of her hand. Her metal arms would crackle with electrifying power to summon a large vaccum nozzle, sucking up the dark clouds and removing them from view. Any flames nearby are promptly put out with a water nozzle hose, summoned just as fast on her transforming arms. "Ozma! You're late! You missed my defense training class, dumkopf! It was a real banger!" The perpetrator would rush up to the redhead and suddenly tackle her in a gripping hug, squeezing her waist and covering the poor magical girl in soot and ash. It's none other than Valeria Weisenbaum, Charlotte's old partner from her past. "Bit of a minor miscalculation there with a student's spell, but nothing to fear! I've got it under control!" Behind her, the roof of the blasted out classroom finally collapsed in onto itself and was reduced to a heap of rubble and metal with gray smoke bellowing up from its destruction. "I can fix this! I promise!"</s>
<\|description\|>Valeria Weizenbaum Magical Girl Name: Waffenhändler Age: Appears 20 Nationality: Germany Appearance: Description: A feisty and wild girl from Bavaria who has been an occasional ally of the Grand Ministry in recent years. She is fiercely independent and prefers to keep her own path, driving the world in her mystical van to collect trinkets, talismans, and most importantly to her, metal junk to smith guns and prosthetics. She proudly immerses herself in punk culture from her homeland and never plays well with authorities. Her and Ozma go way back, and she was one of the first magical girls to work with her. She offers her services to the Grand Ministry these days as a vendor and sometimes helping hand. History: She was born with hypochrondroplasia or small limbed dwarfism in the 1940s during the Hitler years. At this time it was German Nazi party policy to euthanize the genetically inferior. Her family attempted to plead with the government for her life while she lay in the hospital. During her stay, she'd discover the fable story that'd become her grimoire and restore her limbs with silver metal. Fleeing Germany afterward filled her with a sense of independence, and a demand to travel the world around her instead of the culture that rejected her. With her new magical girl powers, she constantly edits and adds onto her limbs for herself and has found her trade in her producing, buying, finding, and selling just about any needed item in the magical world. Grimoire: Das Mädchen ohne Hände (The Girl Without Hands) Classification: Fable Description: An old german story over a miller's daughter who must give up her hands due to her father making a deal with the devil. She finds and falls in love with a King and is given new hands made of silver. Grimoire's Power: Incredible powers of creation with her prosthetic hands, able to mend and mold metal in seconds to create devices ranging from guns and artillery to cars and buildings. She is able to heat them up to smelt iron and adjust them into various tools to make herself into a living and breathing foundry. In a pinch, she can turn them into hand cannons and explode her enemies with shrapnel and cannon. She can also create shields, swords and just about anything she can physically imagine and bring to life with her silver hands. She is a huge fan of Einstürzende Neubauten, Kraftwerk, and Can.</s> <\|message\|>Tesni Edris Title: Dynasty Queen Tesni It was done, the flying menace was destroyed and the team exercise was over and now she could go back to… no… nononononono! More teamwork?! Anyone looking at Tesni would almost be able to see the gears turning in her head, trying to find a way out of having to team up again. As capable as Tesni was in combat, thinking of way to dodge responsibilities outside of literally running away from them weren't her strong suit. "But, but… I did it, it's done…" the disappointment was palpable in her voice. Tesni just sounded exhausted as she wandered towards Valeria, dismissing her transformation. Sure there was something going on about 'Tuning Grimoires' or whatever, but that was of secondary importance to Tesni. She felt that her Grimoire was already plenty powerful, what needed to improve was herself. To become more aware of the similarities between the story and herself. Maybe she was wrong about that, but Tesni wasn't likely to arrive at that conclusion on her own. Good thing she was at a school that correct her if needed. "Miss Valeria… do I have to? Suzuya could have hit me, but she didn't. Would I throw myself into the firing range if I thought for a second, I would get hurt? It's a training exercise. And if it was a real battle, taking the hit to land a finishing blow is always acceptable. Let them cut my flesh so I can shatter their bones, let them shatter my bones to take their life!" even as she was spewing out excuses and justifications, she could tell she was going to have to do this. So, her mind raced, trying to think of the most efficient way to solve the issue of 'teamwork'. Logically she should team up with someone who was already familiar with her. The conclusion she came to was either double down with Bonbon or go for Suzuya who Valeria already brought up as someone who risked damaging her from a distance. Surely the best way to deal with this whole 'teamwork' thing was to take the critique at face value and directly address it? Tesni felt her brain was going to burst before giving up. "Group assignments suuuuuck…" were her final words before just slumping to the ground and lying down on the cool floor. Looking over at the students swarming the Tuner she suddenly felt envious of them. They were more concerned with getting stronger than the assignment. Closing her eyes, Tesni thought about that some more. Why wasn't she eager to get stronger? Did she subconsciously think she was already as strong as she could be? That she was finished? Completed? No… that couldn't be right. If this was the limit of her strength, then woudln't she have to team up at some point? Was she already a finished painting, no more canvas to fill in? No, that couldn't be right either. If she was already perfectly strong how could she improve? "How can I get stronger if I'm already the strongest? I have to be weak… I must be weak, because I have to get stronger." The strange recursive logic of her wanting to get stronger somehow made Tesni more accepting of the teamwork idea, even if she still hated the idea of relying on anyone else with a strange passion.</s> <\|message\|>María de Borbón @TheWendil@Majoras End Maria had failed to notice the amassing group of students that came to watch the training and only really took note of them when Charlotte caught their attention. "You really are that known, are you not, Charlotte? That is quite formidable." Maria said, answering her companion's question with a smile - the first honest smile since she walked to the girls' side. Maria followed that by ignoring Charlotte's comment about needing girls like her. She, of course, disagreed. Maria felt like her presence was a potential risk to everyone around her...but that train of thoughts was redundant. She felt there was no need to bring it up out loud and, anyway, had a creeping suspicion that Charlotte might already know how Maria felt inside. She followed Charlotte away from the crowd, remaining silent at first. She had briefly heard of what had happened but only in whispers. Charlotte, if she was to be believed of course, confirmed it. Of course the Ministry would keep such dangerous news hidden from them. Maria sighed, looking down. News of a rogue magical girl was bad enough - and in a way terrifying - and they wanted her mixed in all of it? It was as if the Ministry twisted her fears on purpose in the worst ways possible. "I am afraid you might be right." she answered the the red head's last bit about getting used to her designed role and finding a teammate. "It cannot be avoided. I just hope that they will accept my presence. Very well then, Miss Clementine. I thank you for your time and wish you well." Maria politely bowed her farewell to Ozma and made her way down to the arena, arriving shortly after the blonde haired girl, Celina. Maria would also walk closer and give the same polite bow she gave Charlotte just moments earlier - an act of etiquette clearly betraying her real age. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Miss Lupin." she began by answering the newcomer. "My name is Maria de Borbón. It's a pleasure to meet all of you, truly. I had the pleasure of watching the end of your previous training exercise and was... impressed." Maria deemed unnecessary to mention out loud why she was sent here just yet. She did not know how the group would react to that, and did not wish to pass as pompous or pretentious. She then walked closer towards Valeria, who was in her conjured vehicle still. "Greetings, Miss Weizenbaum. Could I possibly have a word with you if possible?"</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance LILAC SHIMMER Bonnie took some time to regain her footing on the ground and steady out, be which time Nessie had already moved on. "Eh? That's it?" She stared in confusion at the mecha monstrosity's ease of disintegration. "I guess that was like, four of us attacking at the same time? I thought it was supposed to be all of us." Then came Valeria's assessment, and Lilac's brow furrowed. "That's not how this is supposed to work. It's supposed to not work the first time, and then the failure teaches us to do all the stuff you're talking bout now, right? This would make a terrible story moral! Don't do the stuff that worked fine?" One of the few things that seemed able to get Lilac worked up was when the magical girl stuff wasn't working out like it was 'supposed' to. "Unless like, this is the moment of hubris and a giant super Pageless only defeatable by teamwork shows up later?" She paused for a moment, and then bounced up to the edge of the arena and peered over it to double check, just in case. Glancing back and forth, she was not quick to find any giant Pageless sneaking up on the school. Lilac crossed her arms, a little upset at another team thing so soon after the other one... "I suppose team names and attacks are fun..." Lilac begrudgingly admitted, and finally lightened up a bit again, now starting to feel a little silly over being upset. Hopefully no one had been paying attention to her since she hadn't been talking to anyone in particular. As Lilac started looking around again, she noticed a couple of new faces... since when did they have a cute doggo girl? Was she someone's familiar like Rose's friend or a magical girl? Eh, either way, Lilac decided to wave to the newcomers, before thinking more about partners. It seemed like while she was focusing on other things, Lilac missed the talk about becoming closer to one's Grimoire, but, just as well, it seemed quite a few people were following that path already. Oddly enough it was Tesni who caught Lilac's ear. Huh, Tesni seemed to make a little sense, wait what was that about weakness? Why would someone want to be weak? Lilac didn't seem to get that. She decided to walk closer, her earlier hesitance forgotten in curiousity, and perhaps a spirit of camaraderie over unsatisfaction with the battle. "Um, I'm not sure I get that. Are you saying like, being the strongest would be boring because you don't have room to improve?" Lilac tried explaining what she thought Tesni said as a way to hopefully get correction on what Tesni meant.</s> <\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Suzuya Kuzunoha The lessons were concluded for the night, or so Burning Heart believed, her attention pulled from peers and students to find what should have been a lesson was more a spectator sport. How embarrasing would it have been had they failed miserably with so many seniors and peers watching over them? The vulpine Magical Girl shuddered and chose to hop off of Xolys shoulder as more new faces came from stand and shadow alike to either introduce themselves or peruse them like one does a merchant's wares. With a slow blink, Burning Heart stopped, reconsidering that maybe her sour impressions of, well, the entire landmass of England and all therein, was making her a touch paranoid. Her transformation unfurled around her, a swirl of flame the rose dispersed on the wind to leave skittish, old Suzuya in her place. In Xolys shadow. Her heart slammed into her throat and she nearly bit her tongue stiffling the imminent urge to shriek. But...she knew he wasn't slimy. That counted for a lot, even without her Grimoire girding her will actively, and she tentatively reached her hand out. Just a pat, light and brief as though expecting to bitten, before withdrawing to her side. She'd touched him, and he was most definetly dry! The blonde perked up, imaginary ears wiggling atop her head before she remembered she wasn't a fox at the moment- Err, at all! "I think I can sleep without transforming tonight..." She murmured, hands curling under her chin as pulled her sweater to hide the excited flush of her cheeks and the giddy pull to her lips. There was a pleased warmth coming from her Grimoire, and she wondered if she actually needed a tuner to get in touch with it.</s>	<\|message\|>Valeria Weizenbaum Valeria's lessons were not clicking like she wanted them to. She had hoped to be the cool teacher that let the students do the fun stuff the more conservative staff would not allow, but things were not so easy. Perhaps she wouldn't be a natural fit for this role as she had thought but she quickly cast those doubts aside. "Oh I wanted to go easy on ze kinder. Now I am regretting my choices. They performed very well! No problems on the surface." Valeria greeted Ozma with a wave and her trademark enthusiasm. She'd clap her metal hands together and return her attention to her protesting students. Suzuya's glare did not go unnoticed, and Valeria was tempted to respond back by sticking her tongue at her. She'd have to remind herself she's supposed to be a good role model and Ozma was counting on her. Instead, she'd take all three girls together in a tight group hug enforced by her steely metal arms, bringing them all together. Probably not much more mature, but Valeria was a hugger. "Listen. My comments were not meant to be so harsh! You destroyed that hulking beast in a single maneuver, very impressive and your power is in no doubt! But the Ministry does not like lone wolves, I learned that the hard way." She'd pause a bit, recalling very specific memories. "It is not about who is strongest or who is weakest, Lilac and Tensi. I thought that way myself once! I am a big angry German war machine, and I can summon anything I want at my disposal! Why would I ever want to work with a team, they'd get in my way! I thought that way for a long time...and then one day my arm was nearly destroyed in the middle of a battle against a Pageless. Ozma actually saved my life there, with her grimoire. Our stories make us strong but stories are not told alone, they are shared in a group. That is what I've learned. To value what the stories of others can bring to you, and they can make the grimoires you carry even stronger." Valeria blinked after she finished speaking, shocked to hear herself open up so much. She's left wondering if she was spouting complete bullshit or very insightful teacher commentary. She'd let everyone else be the judge of that. She'd release the students and give them a wave goodbye. "But either way, don't hide your feelings. I appreciate the honesty from you all. Now if you'll excuse me I think I am being called away..." Maria finally arrived, and summoned Valeria away from her students. She'd give her farewells and last minute commendations before observing the lovely new lady. Drossel had her items to offer to the class and she did not want to get in the way of her. Always had to help a fellow German. "Don't call me Miss! Val or Valeria is fine! What do you require of me? I don't think you plan to become my student too, ja?"</s>
<\|description\|>Valeria Weizenbaum Magical Girl Name: Waffenhändler Age: Appears 20 Nationality: Germany Appearance: Description: A feisty and wild girl from Bavaria who has been an occasional ally of the Grand Ministry in recent years. She is fiercely independent and prefers to keep her own path, driving the world in her mystical van to collect trinkets, talismans, and most importantly to her, metal junk to smith guns and prosthetics. She proudly immerses herself in punk culture from her homeland and never plays well with authorities. Her and Ozma go way back, and she was one of the first magical girls to work with her. She offers her services to the Grand Ministry these days as a vendor and sometimes helping hand. History: She was born with hypochrondroplasia or small limbed dwarfism in the 1940s during the Hitler years. At this time it was German Nazi party policy to euthanize the genetically inferior. Her family attempted to plead with the government for her life while she lay in the hospital. During her stay, she'd discover the fable story that'd become her grimoire and restore her limbs with silver metal. Fleeing Germany afterward filled her with a sense of independence, and a demand to travel the world around her instead of the culture that rejected her. With her new magical girl powers, she constantly edits and adds onto her limbs for herself and has found her trade in her producing, buying, finding, and selling just about any needed item in the magical world. Grimoire: Das Mädchen ohne Hände (The Girl Without Hands) Classification: Fable Description: An old german story over a miller's daughter who must give up her hands due to her father making a deal with the devil. She finds and falls in love with a King and is given new hands made of silver. Grimoire's Power: Incredible powers of creation with her prosthetic hands, able to mend and mold metal in seconds to create devices ranging from guns and artillery to cars and buildings. She is able to heat them up to smelt iron and adjust them into various tools to make herself into a living and breathing foundry. In a pinch, she can turn them into hand cannons and explode her enemies with shrapnel and cannon. She can also create shields, swords and just about anything she can physically imagine and bring to life with her silver hands. She is a huge fan of Einstürzende Neubauten, Kraftwerk, and Can.</s> <\|message\|>Silvia O'Sullivan • Age: 17 • Nationality: USA Annoyed Chinami? Check. Blissfully ignorant Tesni? Double check. Charlotte here to intrude on what was suppose to just be the students? Triple check. Though to be fair, that was somewhat expected. It wasn't often Silvia hoped more people arrived at an event, but she wouldn't have minded talking to Celina or Nessie again. But no matter how long she stared down the dark hallway, it didn't seem like anyone else was coming. Had Bonnie not summoned them? Were they running late? It didn't matter. She didn't care. She looked over the group. She'd have to talk to Bonnie at some point, but at the moment it looked like Bonnie was a little busy. Popular people tended to have a lot of connections. Even if Bonnie and Silvia had only spoken with each other a few times, it made sense that she knew a lot of the people present. Silvia was likely an outlier in that regard. Of course a class of students would be familiar with each other. Why would they run off on their own to better their skills in solitude? Did the magical girls of Marrywell even believe in solitude for anything? Regardless, it wouldn't do to just hang back while everyone else went exploring. Especially since she had been noticed. Silvy? Had she just been given a nickname? Before Silvia could even respond, Tesni went on to continue talking with her friends. The speed in which she jumped from topic to topic was astounding. It almost made Silvia dizzy. She could keep up with it, but not participate. It wasn't until Suzuya produced a torch that Silvia found a moment to join them. "I don't think any of us want to burn down the school." Well, maybe one of them. Tesni did do a number on the cafeteria. "And if we did, we probably wouldn't be looking for your permission. But it's good to know you can extinguish your flames." Maybe she was trying to say that her flames wouldn't burn anything she didn't want them to burn because she could extinguish them. If so, that was a pretty passive-aggressive way to word it. "If I had flame magic I'd probably use it to cook pizza." A silly thing to say, but it was just to defuse some tention. Ozma also had a bit to say, but Silvia was only half listening to it as none of it seemed to be aimed at her specifically. We can get ratted out for this? ... Though for Charlotte, the couch remained in her focus. Maybe she was planning on taking a nap there. Maybe she and Valeria would do some cuddling before the night was over. Who really knew what went through the mind of Ozma? Though one thing was certain. She was not the first person to spot the couch by the fireplace. A woman's head rose over the back of the couch. Slowly, her forehead came into view. Then her eyes, then her nose. "Oh, hey everyone." She stepped over the back of the couch, revealing her less than modest costume. She might have been trying to go for some sort of animal hybrid mummy, but there really weren't enough wraps to fully sell the look, let alone be considered a modest costume choice. That was either bothersome or appealing depending on who was looking. There was enough jewelry to pass the "mummy" off as a pharaoh at least. Golden bangles and rings covered the woman head to toe. It wasn't immediately obvious who she was, but her voice was distinctly Mika's. A keen observer may have even noticed her scabbard wedged between the couch cushions on a second look. "I almost came as a maid, but I don't know. I didn't feel like being a servant today." And she wasn't alone. An all-white bulldog walked around the couch and sat at Mika's feet. He was unusually well dressed for the occasion. "...But I still got roped into dog-sitting. If you're going to explore the dungeon, maybe you'd like to take Winston here for a walk? He'd enjoy it." Winston just looked at the girls with a closed mouth, as if he was anticipating an answer. "Assuming you girls want your privacy that is. I can certainly come with you if you don't mind my company. Or maybe you want my company? I mean, Ozma's strong, but you know..." She wiggled her fingers in the air. "There are things locked in that dungeon that no magical girl should have to see! Things scarier than any pageless that were too powerful to defeat. They've been banished to the darkest corner of the academy to ensure they don't taint the light!" Winston turned away from everyone and buried his face in the back of the couch.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Bell (Magical Maiden Ethereal Rose) Olivia hadn't gotten far when a voice called out from behind her. Whirling around, she was greeted with the sight of… "Bonnie!" the blonde beauty exclaimed with a happy smile. "And you're Tesni, correct?" she asked, refocusing her energetic attention on Bonnie's companion. "It's very nice to see you again! Liv? Is that a nickname? Oh, gosh! I've never been given a nickname before!" Olivia gushed as if it were the greatest thing to ever happen to her. "Well, at least not a friendly one… Hmm? Oh, Suzuya?" she repeated when her roommate was inquired about. "Um, she said she had a few things to work on but, oh! There you are, Suzuya!" the azure-clad maiden noted with a surprised giggle as her roommate appeared from behind Xolys's bedsheet-covered form. Bonnie then suggested exploring the castle as a group, causing Olivia's already jubilant demeanor to brighten even further. "Oh, yes! I think that would be much more enjoyable!" the Ethereal Rose agreed, completely oblivious to the fact that Bonnie seemed far less enthusiastic about the whole "mysterious castle" thing. "And those torches will provide the most enchanting ambiance!" she added, turning to her roommate. "Thank you so very much, Suzuya! And this is my first sleepover, too!" she told Tesni. "I just brought a pillow, since Darling's cozy tendrils are better than any blanket, especially when warmed by his eldritch flames!" It was around then that a startled-sounding Bonnie said something about a pool. Looking in the redhead's direction, Olivia saw that, sure enough, the was a large pool at the center of the castle's courtyard, shimmering as it reflected the moonlight. But what was it for? After all, it was a bit too chilly to go swimming. Still such questions would have to be answered at a later time, as another new arrival chose that moment to announce her presence, and she didn't sound particularly happy… "Chinami!" Olivia greeted the knightly maiden with her usual cheer, although her running hug was stopped in its tracks when she saw the young woman's annoyed scowl. "Oh, gosh! I'm so sorry! I called you Chinami instead of Camelot!" Olivia hastily apologized, the fair maiden erroneously believing that to be the cause of her friend's less-than-pleased demeanor. "I completely forgot you prefer to go by your Magical Girl name whenever you're transformed… Oh! But isn't this castle simply amazing?!" she added, her eyes glittering with excitement the moment Camelot mentioned their unexpected surroundings. "I don't know for certain, but I think the haunted piano brought it here," she explained. "You see, according to the rumor, the piano can transport people to another world, but maybe it can also bring parts of other worlds to this one!" she continued to eagerly ramble on. "I mean, how else could such a lovely and enchanting castle like this just appear out of nowhere?!" Olivia's excited babblings were brought to a halt with Charlotte's arrival, the "totally not a teacher" making a few playful comments, before heading over to where a large couch sat before a crackling fireplace. However, someone else was already there, their Egyptian-themed form rising up to reveal Marrywell's student councilor, Mika Fang. And reveal turned out to be exactly the right word, as the young woman's mummy costume was almost scandalously skimpy, providing yet another piece of evidence to support Xolys's opinion that Marrywell's faculty were a rather unorthodox bunch. And that was without even getting into the costumed canine accompanying her… "Oh my goodness!" Olivia cried at the sight of the dapper-looking dog. "He's so cute! And I just love his little monocle!" she added, hurrying over to get a closer look.</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance BONNIE CHANCE "Like I was just telling Tesni, it was just a music room! Its just different now! IdunnoMagic!" Bonnie threw her hands up in some mixture of defensiveness and panic. The social pressure of thinking she had already failed all the people she was trying to make friends with and ... Wait, who had just asked that? Bonnie blinked for a moment as Tesni began talking and she realized Camelot was back! "You're back! I didn't know you were back, Camelot!" Bonnie moves in, spreading her arms wide, pausing, then trying to subtly transition to offering a handshake. Bonnie tried to remember that they hadn't left off on great terms. But dang it she was a hug person! "Yup, exploring's still on the menu, with a team this allstar, we should be unstoppable- er, yeah, I guess more people have shown up than I invited." Bonnie answered Tesni, a bit surprised. "Oh, hey Suzuya! Didn't see ya behind the ghost. I think you're right, I don't mind some extras and let's explore. I did put a notice on my door incase anyone got lost, so, it'd make sense my roommate'd see it, eh?" Bonnie offers a smile to Suzuya and a wink to Camelot. Bonnie seemed to lose some tension after more students showed themselves, and especially the teachers. If this was some legitimate threat, there were teachers. But it probably wasn't, cause the teachers didn't seem worried. It seemed in Bonnie's mind at least, no matter how much Charlotte protested, Bonnie considered her part of the 'staff'. And Mika couldn't get surprised by any spooky ghosts, right? Now feeling calmer, despite the fact that she was no longer peering around warily, Bonnie's situational awareness actually improved, from not being quite so frightened. She noticed Silvia had slipped in previously as she spoke up and decided the appropriate response was a wave and nod of recognition. She wasn't quite sure Silvia enjoyed being talked to, so maybe this would be better? "I didn't know you had a dog, Mika! That's neat." Bonnie seems to miss the point a bit, and gets caught up in Olivia's excitement and hurries over too.</s>	<\|message\|>Valeria Weizenbaum "Welcome, welcome one and all to these old halls. A majestic castle once long ago, now cursed and haunted...filled with the ravenous undead!" A disembodied but familiar voice echoed out through the halls, reaching the ear of every magical girl involved in the castle. There's a flash of movement as something descended from the ceiling, clad in a long black cape with a red lining underneath. It's Valeria, dressed up as a vampire and sporting fake white fangs that hang out of the edges of her mouth. She's upon Charlotte at once, her breath laced with beer as she nipped and bit on Charlotte's neck in a traditional vampire's embrace. She'd hiss in her ear and giggle before lurching back upward and waving an arm to the crowd. "My first victim of the night! Muahaha! All this blad will go to my powers...and I shall become an unstop-oh nein forget this stupid accent blegh." Valeria pulled the fangs out from her mouth, rubbing her lips. "Hey hey. There's food in the dining hall, I recruited the Academy staff to make a meal of just about any type of food or drink since I wasn't sure what people wanted." Valeria would fall back into a seat next to Charlotte, kicking her boot clad feet up and hanging them up over the side of her seat. "The teachers can hang out here, just to make sure you guys aren't sneaking booze in. Because that would be terrible. Especially since you haven't shared it with me." Valeria chuckled, downing a glass bottle of Heniken in only a few steady gulps.</s>
<\|description\|>María de Borbón 21 Spanish Description: Maria has been a magical girl for close to a century now. Although a very distant relative, she was technically born in the house de Borbón, the ruling Royal Family of modern Spain. Her family, while not in direct contact with the monarchs, were still very wealthy of their own means and Maria grew up in need of nothing. She attended the most prestigious schools and had the best education available, indulging in many kind of excess until her 20th birthday. In 1937, in the midst of the Spanish Civil war, her family's estate was ransacked by a mob of angry civilians. Which side they represented mattered little and Maria never knew. In the village that they lived, their family represented excess and induced jealousy, so when everyone was starving, angry and ready to fight the inevitable happened and the family met it's fate and the hands of angry Revolutionaries. However, not Maria. She lived on through means she could never have anticipated. Before she, too, was killed by angry men something magical happened - a great book appeared before her. It was a dark book covered in ominous symbols and a dark aura, yet Maria felt the need to grab it...and the rest is history. Before the astonished eyes of the people present, María de Borbón disappeared never to be seen again. A life of undeserving excess led her here, led her to possess this dark Grimoire - The Mythos of the Angel of Darkness, the Devil himself. She was going to have to atone. Sole inheritor of her family's fortune, Maria traveled to France where she hid for a time, understanding her newly acquired power and coming to terms with it. For the longest time after that she operated alone. She had heard of the academy, but was wary of others. Her Grimoire gave her great powers, but she felt a constant pull towards something she was not, towards what the Mythos represented; Evil, Deceit and many kind of Excess. She could tap in this power, but had to remain strong not to give in, and felt like close relationship to others, magical girls or otherwise, was a risk. Eventually, however, The Ministry summoned her to come and join their rank. It was not a proposition this time, and she knew it. Maria also knew that her time being able to be on her own was drawing to a close. if she was to somehow fall - whatever that implied - she wanted others to be close by to deal with what she'd become then. Morning Star ♫ Grimoire: • Title: The Devil's Mythos. • Classification: Myth. • Description: The Devil's Mythos encompass the beliefs surrounding the fallen angel, under his many, many guises through just as many folk tales and ethnic groups. It whispers of promises of power, tell tales of deceits and of great many unspeakable betrayals. It contains the human belief of evil incarnate, no matter the origin or religion. It encompass every fears and has the will to dominate others. Needless to say, such a cursed Grimoire grants much powers - but at the risky cost of becoming what it represents. Abilities Morning Star is Maria's chosen title for her Magical Girl persona. The less ominous name given to Lucifer, from the origin before it was the incarnation of all evil. Her powers, however, are less buried in forgotten meanings and more...to the point. As the bearer of the Devil's Mythos, her powers manifest as one would expect; with Hellfire. * Demonic Strength: When calling on her powers, Morning Star has access to incredible super human strength and her physical attacks are devastating and deadly to all but the strongest foes - or the quickest. * Hellfire: Maria can call upon hellfire to surround her in a great tempest of fire, and can direct the flames to immolate enemies around. * Hellfire: Enhance: As if her great physical strength was not already enough, Maria can call upon the hell flames to enhance almost all of her attacks. her physical attacks would then be delivered with explosive, fiery effect and leave enemies charred and burning. * Wings of Evil: While she cannot remain in flight, Maria can summon forth two great bat-like wings wreathed in flames to send her a great distance away - like an enhanced jump. * Beelzebub: Probably her greatest weapon comes in the form of floating sword that looks like a cross that constantly remains floating behind her. The sword is made of an unknown dark metal and seemingly does very little until Maria calls upon it. When she does, she gets engulfed in flames for a time until the fire takes the form of a goat demon, first it's skeleton and progressively the full creature. Only it's upper body shows, Maria standing in the chest area and protected by the flames. When in this form, the Demon wield the great Dark-steel sword, now also wreathed in Hellfire.</s> <\|message\|>Tesni Edris Title: Dynasty Queen Tesni Tesni was frankly a bit shocked that anyone was actually listening to her mumbled little monologue. Looking up at Bonnie, she furrowed her brow not expecting to have to justify herself to anyone else, but she also couldn't just leave someone with a misconception about her… especially when she was addressed directly. Then of all things the teacher pulled her into a hug! No that wasn't right. She was the one who initiated hugs, it was on her terms and when she wanted it to happen. The metal arm also made the hug feel strangely 'clunky', but she suppressed the urge to squirm out of it. Instead answering Bonnie's question about her mumblings. "No… no that's not right. It's not about the boredom of being the strongest. Bon bon, it's about not having the power to be self-reliant. It's well and good to have teammates and friends, but what do you do when you're all alone? It's not about me being weak exactly. I frankly think I'm rather strong, but it's the idea that I'm already strong is a subconscious limiting factor." Tesni was not having a great time trying to explain herself, she felt she was doing it wrong, but couldn't think of any better way to put it than the metaphor that popped into her head earlier. "It's like… let's say I started my magical girl life as a crude stick figure on a canvas. That's little baby Tesni. Over time, experience and familiarity with my power is like painting a self-portrait of who I am now. Lately I felt like there wasn't much room for me to add more within my 'canvas' if that makes sense. Like I had a complete picture, it's framed and hung on the wall in a gallery." Looking Bonnie in the eyes she got up off the ground and put a hand on her shoulder. "The point is, that there is the limiting factor of the picture frame. But paint can go anywhere; the artwork doesn't have to stop with a frame. There is the wall it is hung on, or the floor or the ceiling. Why not break free of a simple portrait on canvas and add some landscapes? Make it a mural on the wall?" Tesni quickly felt that her metaphor was escaping her. "In simple terms, lately I've had a crisis. I've felt as if I had reached the limit of what I can achieve on my own. But Valeria's little speech as shifted my perspective, which thanks by the way Valeria, I really did need that... oh, she's busy with a... new kid? Bon bon, when did we get another new kid? Were they always here? Did I forget about a classmate? Whatever, not important. At least not important to the conversation we're having. Briefly turning to shout after the teacher, Teni focused on Bonnie once again. "I still want to be independent, that will never change for me. Because I don't like the idea of bugging others with problems I have, but I'm gonna be trying to work as a team because that's a new way for me to grow and improve. So although I won't ask for help... I will offer it. I realise it's kinda an arbitrary line in the sand, but it's making me feel better about the whole thing." Tesni had no idea if she made sense to anyone else, but it felt right to her and that's what mattered. "C'mon, Bon bon. We're gonna do this whole team up thing. But like… I'm one of those big ice breaker ships. Cracking through the ice, breaking the shell and releasing the gooey weak point centre… whatever, it's not like we have to have everything sorted out literally now. We have time and can figure it out as we go… I talked to much, I have a tension headache at the back of my skull, need a drink." 42nd Gecko</s> <\|message\|>OZMA "Oh! Sorry, sorry!" Charlotte said without actually moving her hand away. She couldn't help it and gave Lupin one more round of pets before finally relenting. By the time she was done there was a small crowd around the latest Marrywell student. Charlotte stepped back as the other girls took their turns admiring and fawning over Lupin. Good; it was better she made some friends now and this early on her first official day in the school. Charlotte simply nodded in approval even if she couldn't join in the fun herself. Her mind returned to the tasks at hand after all. She had other things to take care of especially when the Ministry expected results on this Roma case. And so Charlotte was gone before anyone noticed, vanished and poofed without much of a farewell. She doubted she'd get one when the others were so wrapped up in their own conversations. For now she'd work out of sight and beyond their notice to make some arrangements. Whatever else the others had to do for the night's class, they would do so and finish up before the morning hours reminded them all this was still a school. All of the girls were expected to be present and punctual for their classes over the next couple of days. In that time, they'd learn the basic curriculum taught in Marrywell's walls. But beyond the public view and outside of everyday sight, they were learning the methods of their magic and the inner-workings of their Grimoires. Being one of the newer students, Celina was placed in the same classes as the other new girls with dorming arrangements sorted out between them. All of it, including Charlotte's unseen efforts, paid off when the girls were assigned their second patrolling mission shortly after. For some it was their first. By choice or chance, the girls found themselves gathered in one group at Marrywell's entrance. As per Valeria's homework, each of them was expected to have formed some group of two or three, though Charlotte didn't seem care whatever sort of order they were in today. She flashed all of them, gathered teachers Valeria and Maria included, a wiry grin as they assembled. "Oi lasses, glad you could make it! The Minister's appointed me to look over your patrol for today so let's see if you girls actually learned something the last week, ya?" A crowd of students were also watching the group depart. It was rare for the Crimson Comet herself to head such thing as just a meager patrol, let alone act like she was a teacher after avoiding the role for years. Naturally it'd cause quite some buzz in the air. Charlotte paid them no mind, spinning around and transforming into her magical uniform. "Remember, muggles can't very well see us when we're transformed, so try not to make such a fuss. Students keep up with your teachers and teachers, try to keep up~" Magical Girl Ozma announced with a wink. A twirl of her hands summoned a bright white witch's broom that sparkled in sheen with the morning light. Ozma hopped on the length of it with the balance of a skateboard before zooming forward into London with a crimson streak. Her smirk was…slightly off today, something Maria and Valeria would notice. Maybe there was more to this simple "patrol" than the senior girl was letting on but that could only be confirmed if they started catching up. ---</s>	<\|message\|>María de Borbón "What a relief--" she began, before being smacked into the shoulder by Valeria as a sign of what Maria could only describe as camaraderie. Depending on Valeria's levels of awareness, she might notice that while Maria did indeed recoil, she took this hit better than what she german girl might had expected for such a powerful arm. While the tall blonde was completely unhurt, she still brought a hand to her shoulder in fear of vexing Valeria if she didn't. Perhaps a foolish thought born from Maria's lack of social interactions in the last decades, but still. "Yes, it does seem like Miss Clementine has left us. She is as mysterious as I had heard before, isn't she? Well, Valeria, rest well and see you soon." she said she said with another subtle bow before heading out herself, politely smiling and bidding farewell at anyone who would meet her gaze. The girls were busy in their discussion, and Maria came to the same conclusion Ozma did in that now was not the time for additional interactions. Time passed, and Maria began teaching along with Valeria. As discussed, they would split the charge of different courses. Maria was a woman of...few words. She was always polite to a fault and followed almost perfect etiquette, yet tended to keep conversations short and to the point, avoiding unnecessary interactions for the time being. She preferred to teach in a hands-off manner. Anything that was theoretical seemed to be her cup of tea, and the times when the Girls would change she would remain unchanged and give advises, pointers and tips as and if necessary. She would leave everything that needed direct interactions and action to Valeria - such as combat practice - and never once in those few days did anyone see Maria change into her Grimoire. If asked why or asked to do it, she would simply say that it is not necessary at this time and leave it at that. On the day that Ozma gathered everyone at the Academy's entrance, Maria stood towards the front with Valeria. All of their charges were supposed to have chosen teams already, so in that regard they were covered - in theory. Maria did notice something off with Charlotte, but did not care to bring it up yet. She did however looked at Valeria to see if she, too, noticed it. That alone would not be deranging if it wasn't for what Charlotte told her a few days ago about what was happening. It led Maria to believe that, perhaps, the Ministry expected things to go wrong with this sortie, too. Anyhow, they still needed to go. (EDIT:) She knew their students had formed their teams as asked, so she simply faced the group and said; "As your recently appointed Teacher it is my duty to make sure everyone come back to this Academy alive and well. Keep a close eyes on your partners and each others and remember Miss Weizenbaum's words; Stories are shared in group. I expect to see a marked improvement out there, today - I am certain I will not be disappointed." Maria turned to Valeria and politely asked; "Valeria, may I ask to ride alongside you in your vehicle if possible? I would greatly appreciate it."</s>
<\|description\|>María de Borbón 21 Spanish Description: Maria has been a magical girl for close to a century now. Although a very distant relative, she was technically born in the house de Borbón, the ruling Royal Family of modern Spain. Her family, while not in direct contact with the monarchs, were still very wealthy of their own means and Maria grew up in need of nothing. She attended the most prestigious schools and had the best education available, indulging in many kind of excess until her 20th birthday. In 1937, in the midst of the Spanish Civil war, her family's estate was ransacked by a mob of angry civilians. Which side they represented mattered little and Maria never knew. In the village that they lived, their family represented excess and induced jealousy, so when everyone was starving, angry and ready to fight the inevitable happened and the family met it's fate and the hands of angry Revolutionaries. However, not Maria. She lived on through means she could never have anticipated. Before she, too, was killed by angry men something magical happened - a great book appeared before her. It was a dark book covered in ominous symbols and a dark aura, yet Maria felt the need to grab it...and the rest is history. Before the astonished eyes of the people present, María de Borbón disappeared never to be seen again. A life of undeserving excess led her here, led her to possess this dark Grimoire - The Mythos of the Angel of Darkness, the Devil himself. She was going to have to atone. Sole inheritor of her family's fortune, Maria traveled to France where she hid for a time, understanding her newly acquired power and coming to terms with it. For the longest time after that she operated alone. She had heard of the academy, but was wary of others. Her Grimoire gave her great powers, but she felt a constant pull towards something she was not, towards what the Mythos represented; Evil, Deceit and many kind of Excess. She could tap in this power, but had to remain strong not to give in, and felt like close relationship to others, magical girls or otherwise, was a risk. Eventually, however, The Ministry summoned her to come and join their rank. It was not a proposition this time, and she knew it. Maria also knew that her time being able to be on her own was drawing to a close. if she was to somehow fall - whatever that implied - she wanted others to be close by to deal with what she'd become then. Morning Star ♫ Grimoire: • Title: The Devil's Mythos. • Classification: Myth. • Description: The Devil's Mythos encompass the beliefs surrounding the fallen angel, under his many, many guises through just as many folk tales and ethnic groups. It whispers of promises of power, tell tales of deceits and of great many unspeakable betrayals. It contains the human belief of evil incarnate, no matter the origin or religion. It encompass every fears and has the will to dominate others. Needless to say, such a cursed Grimoire grants much powers - but at the risky cost of becoming what it represents. Abilities Morning Star is Maria's chosen title for her Magical Girl persona. The less ominous name given to Lucifer, from the origin before it was the incarnation of all evil. Her powers, however, are less buried in forgotten meanings and more...to the point. As the bearer of the Devil's Mythos, her powers manifest as one would expect; with Hellfire. * Demonic Strength: When calling on her powers, Morning Star has access to incredible super human strength and her physical attacks are devastating and deadly to all but the strongest foes - or the quickest. * Hellfire: Maria can call upon hellfire to surround her in a great tempest of fire, and can direct the flames to immolate enemies around. * Hellfire: Enhance: As if her great physical strength was not already enough, Maria can call upon the hell flames to enhance almost all of her attacks. her physical attacks would then be delivered with explosive, fiery effect and leave enemies charred and burning. * Wings of Evil: While she cannot remain in flight, Maria can summon forth two great bat-like wings wreathed in flames to send her a great distance away - like an enhanced jump. * Beelzebub: Probably her greatest weapon comes in the form of floating sword that looks like a cross that constantly remains floating behind her. The sword is made of an unknown dark metal and seemingly does very little until Maria calls upon it. When she does, she gets engulfed in flames for a time until the fire takes the form of a goat demon, first it's skeleton and progressively the full creature. Only it's upper body shows, Maria standing in the chest area and protected by the flames. When in this form, the Demon wield the great Dark-steel sword, now also wreathed in Hellfire.</s> <\|message\|>Nessie Burns Despite her failure to execute the momentous attack she'd been building up, Nessie didn't feel discouraged in the slightest while moving back from Maria to get closer to the rest of her class. She was smart enough to recognise her own progress, especially as it was pointed out by Maria in the midst of affirmation and praise. All she could think about now was how she'd make that attack land next time, a smile brought to her face as she envisioned it in her mind's eye. She was back with her Grimoire now, and rightfully so. Now perhaps if they got out of this whole mess she'd be able to actually do some proper training. "Th-thanks, miss... As Maria's hand left her shoulder, Nessie raised her own hand up to that spot to fully register the warmth it left behind. Not just in a figurative way, but actual physical heat. It wasn't painful, it seemed like her teacher had made her best effort not simmer her power down, but it felt almost like Nessie was sticking her hand into the middle of a warm oven. Almost toasty and soothing enough for it to be uncomfortable. The girl's eyes looked up to the teachers standing between them and Roma, her eyes frowning with uncertainty as she truly realised that things could get serious. Ozma's tone, Valeria's sudden stoicism, a dense conversation filled with terms and references she didn't understand or have context for... Nessie was slowly realising how out of her depth she was now, along with her fellow classmates. So out of her depth Nessie was, in fact, that Roma's ideals almost seemed reasonable to the young Magical Girl were it not for Stripes' boisterous intervention in the conversation. As the girl found herself and her situation being singled out she looked between both Stripes and Roma in surprise, taken aback by just how ballsy her former saviour was. It was enough to kick her into her own train of mind and actions now, especially as she some of the others gearing up for attack. Nessie would have followed suit, were it not for the sudden thought that even her classmates whom had encountered the rogue Magical Girl before probably weren't sure themselves of what was the best course of action was, nor what was really going on. It probably wouldn't help much to be impetuous at this point. And that's when she turned her attention back to Valeria and Maria. Only a short distance from the two, the redhead picked up traces of their low whispering, her eyes attentively following her ears as she gave them a sidewards glance. "... not be her real... Maria can you... escape for... surrounded or worse..." Valeria's strong accent combined with her uncharacteristically soft tone didn't help things for Nessie, but with what she heard she was able to fill in the blanks enough to get a general idea of what the next steps could be, depending on how tactful things remained. Instead of preparing an attack she'd summon her broomstick to her side, gripping it tightly with one hand. Meanwhile she scanned around for any of her fellow Magical Girls who didn't have some means of flight, or at least quick transportation, gesturing with her free hand to them in case they wanted to hop on with her. Whether they attacked or fled it would probably prove an advantage to remain airborne, she figured.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Bell (Magical Maiden Ethereal Rose) Although Olivia had addressed her question to Valeria, it was Ozma who answered first, noting that she was indeed correct in her assumption that they were all Magical Girls, and thus should all be on the same side. Nonetheless, an uneasy tension continued to suffuse the air, accentuated by the flurry of less-than-enthusiastic responses that followed. First was Maria, who commended Olivia's curiosity, yet still felt it was out of place in such a serious situation. This was followed by Suzuya leaping off Xolys and placing herself between Olivia and Tsubasa, while somewhat harshly rebuking the azure-clad beauty's attempt to try and pet the now seemingly pacified Pageless. Although Olivia knew her friend was simply trying to protect her, the fox girl's words still caused a frown to mar the fair maiden's otherwise lovely countenance. Before she could say anything in reply, Valeria finally gave her own reponse, informing the Ethereal Rose that the masked Magical Girl had a dangerous reputation, and thus was someone to be extremely wary of. This revelation did little to remove the frown from the blonde beauty's face, but she understood that if a Magical Girl with as much experience as Valeria was giving such warnings, then they were probably true and she would do well to heed them. "O-Oh, I see…" Olivia replied softly. "Very well then," she added, giving a small nod of acknowledgment, while silently joining the German in hoping that the tense standoff wouldn't dissolve into violence and feeling considerable relief when the metal-limbed girl lowered her pistol. Still, those concerns were quickly forgotten when Tsubasa began speaking once more, her words as refined and elegant as ever. But this time, she was addressing Olivia and her consort directly… Oh my gosh! Is she actually giving me a chance to pet them?! the lovely maiden thought to herself, almost squealing with delight, and completely missing the insult directed towards her roommate. Oh, how absolutely wonderful! she gushed, closing her eyes as her lips curled into a blissful smile. Indeed, the blonde beauty was so enraptured by her imaginings of what such an experience might be like that she was utterly oblivious to the rest of the masked maiden's monologue. Thus, it came as a bit of a surprise when she was broken out of her reverie by the sound of Ozma mentioning something about a "real body" and subsequently caught sight of one of the other girls conjuring a quartet of mystic projectiles, all aimed at Tsubasa… "U-Ummm, what's going on?" an utterly clueless Olivia inquired. "Miss Tsubasa has just enumerated her goals," her darling Xolys replied. "And it regretfully appears that they stand in opposition to our own." While his lovely consort had been dreaming of cuddling and snuggling with piles of cute Pageless, the Master of Xhar'doth had been paying close attention to the continuing exchange between Tsubasa and the rest of the gathered Magical Girls. Although the eldritch beast had yet to hear the masked maiden's responses to the very reasonable inquiries posed to her, something told him that Tsubasa's answers would do little to defuse the tense atmosphere. In fact, he was almost certain they would do the exact opposite, something Ozma's insinuation that the Tsubasa who stood before them was merely an illusion of some form only seemed to confirm. With that in mind, he tightened his grip on Olivia and made sure to move one of his larger appendages so as to shield the azure-clad beauty from any potential ranged attacks. Concurrently, he readied his myriad other limbs to spring into action at the slightest hint of danger, while tiny eyes formed on dozens of tentacular stalks, allowing him a full three hundred and sixty degree field of vision. If Moonlight Tsubasa really was planning to engage in combat, then Thyerg'Xolys would be ready…</s>	<\|message\|>María de Borbón In front of Roma's antics and grand theatrical answers, Maria opted to remain silent. The blond teacher instead used the exchange of words between the rogue magical girl, Ozma and her students to take a closer look at their surroundings, the pageless and Roma herself - for she had came to the same conclusion as the Crimson Comet about Roma's real body not being the one speaking to them now, which Valeria more than probably also caught on to. Also, there was not much to tell Roma as her ideals and reasons seemed to be twisted. A fact which Stripe didn't fail to shout back at the self proclaimed savior of Magical Girls. Bhakti's speech seemed to make sense on surface, but as soon as you dug even a tiny bit you realized just how much she fell down in her own interpretation of things. Unfortunately, Maria believed that the girl truly believed her own words. Maria wondered then what exactly could have happened for someone like Roma to fall this far and then decided she would have to do a little digging once back at the Academy. For now, however, the priority was the safety of the students. While they probably could handle themselves well in a fight and, looking at them, they seemed ready to do so this was beyond the point. As Senior, it was their role to protect the next generation so that they could reach their full potential and take over. This situation was made more risky not only by the physical threat but also the very real possibility that such twisted words could lay a dormant seed in the minds of those more innocent and grow into something twisted, like Roma became. "Do you see, Lady Bhakti, how our students see through your twisted words and corrupted morals? You spoke of Pageless and of Magical Girls - but what of the innocents? Pageless do not only hunt Magical Girls, they kill indiscriminately. How many defenseless humans died to them as well? You seem to think strength grants you the right to lead and go on a crusade for your own fabricated goals. It does not matter to me what the Academy or anyone else says. You forget that our strength and powers should be used first and foremost to Protect." Maria then turned to Valeria, who whispered to her. Lady Weizenbaum... - Maria thought - Are you not the most noblest of Knights. Even so, I could never forgive myself if you were to be wounded doing such a noble act... She answered, lowering her voice somewhat. "Are you certain of this, Valeria? If things turn sour, and this Lady Bhakti indeed intend to harm anyone of us, the chances are likely that whomever remain would be the target, as they would be isolated. If things turn to conflict, would it not be more prudent to pool all our strength in ensuring everyone's safety?"</s>
<\|description\|>Celina Kennedy, Lupin Age: 17 Nationality: Irish Description: Well, when you come from a country well known for it's mythos, the concept of grimores and the Pageless doesn't seem so far fetched. A level-headed young woman, Celina is a relatively new magical girl with almost a year under her belt. Caring, but can also be a bit territorial, protective to the ones she grows attached to. Though she does have moments where she loses her temper, she dares not to harm anyone innocent in the process and heavily restrains herself to prevent such an outcome. Hailing from Dublin, Celina's life growing up was...pretty much normal. She was the middle child, wedged between an older brother and a sickly twin sister, and her parents though busy did their best for their children. They did well in school, they had good friends (except that one time), Celina's brother even got a job at one point. So what could've happened to turn Celina into the red-cloaked Lupin? For some reason, her twin's condition began to get worse, eventually leaving her hospitalized. The other two siblings did their best to stay by her side while their parents handled most of the medical stuff, borrowing books from the library and helping her around her room. Her sister's condition didn't get worse in their efforts, but it didn't get better either. No one knew what the cause was, and the stress of it began to ignite conflict between Celina's family. She didn't care. In the dead of night during one visit, Celina woke up to the sound of animalistic growling. At first she assumed it was her mind playing tricks after a dream, but that came into question once she saw the source of the noise. A spine chilling sight, the Pageless bore a similar appearance to a wolf, only...wrong. Terrifying. Yet she didn't scream. For some reason she didn't, even though she was internally panicking at the mere sight of the monster. Becauss it looked like it didn't notice her, or was saving her for later, for it only held grim intentions for the still-sleeping twin. Celina didn't even have to think of why or what it's reason was. It had to go. She quietly made her way over to a stack of books on the bedside table, and throwing caution to the wind, threw one at the Pageless before it could strike. And once she got it's attention, she kept attacking it, driving it away. Until the last book answered to her desperation, and a small blade took it's place, piercing through the false wolf's flesh. Standing in Celina Kennedy's place was another threat entirely. One who would be known by the moniker Lupin. The beast was swiftly dealt with, and Lupin dissapeared into the night. She had to learn more about these creatures, this power. And perhaps kill the rest of that one Pageless' pack while she was at it. But Celina did return in the morning before anyone could be concerned. That Pageless. Was it just feasting on her sister's life force, or was it trying to prevent the wrong twin from finding their grimore? Either way, she hoped her sister could recover from that. After some time had passed, Celina was taken in by the Grand Ministry, and moved to London so she could attend Marrywell Academy. The Ministry themselves, she's mostly indifferent to. Though that's probably because she doesn't have a set opinion on them yet. Grimoire: • Title: Little Red Riding Hood • Classification: Fable • Description: Little Red Riding Hood is a European fairy tale about a young girl and a Big Bad Wolf. Its origins can be traced back to several pre-17th century European folk tales. The two best known versions were written by Charles Perrault and the Brothers Grimm, which this Grimore derives from. • Abilities: The Wolf - After Little Red had entered the woods, a seemingly innocuous wolf approached her. Lupin adopts the traits of one such wolf to help her in her own hunt. Acute hearing, improved eyesight during night time; essentially giving her night vision, and sharp canines that can tear through flesh of both humans and pageless. Well, under the assumption that the pageless do have flesh. Lupin's "claws" come in the form of her weapon, a seemingly endless amount of throwing knifes usually stored inside her jacket. The Hunter - After the Wolf had finished his feast, he fell asleep. He snored so loudly a huntsman followed the sound and cut Little Red and her Grandma free. A passive ability, Lupin's physical prowess is increased whilst she's transformed, letting her take a few more heavy blows than one normally could. The Hood - The Big Bad Wolf had decieved both Grandma and Little Red, eating them whole after they've let their guard down. Lupin's own hood isn't just for show. It allows her to take the appearance of anyone she gets a good look at. However, the illusion isn't entirely perfect. Perhaps their voice is too high or low, or the color of their eyes are the wrong shade. There will always be something that sets Lupin's disguise apart from the real deal. Misc:</s> <\|message\|>Valeria Weizenbaum Val was all fun and bluster until the adventure to mess up some heartless evolved into a dramatic encounter with one of the most dangerous beings the academy. Her teasing and carefree attitude came to an end, immediately she's out of the open roofed car and throwing aside her bottle of beer. A serious glare overtook her face as she aimed a golden tinted revolver towards Roma as she made her approach. She'd only halt from shooting as Ozma appeared to come talk to her, confusing Valeria. The teacher make sure she's in front of the students like Nessie, not wanting them to get hit in case this meeting turns into violence. "So we're just here for a dialog huh? Is that why you've been harassing the academy with pageless attacks?" Her revolver is spun and chambered, ready to be fired. She'd stand before the gathered students, ready to defend them with her life if necessary. For now, she felt no hostile intent from Roma, yet. "If you really want to talk and show you're peaceful, why don't you drop your grimoire and put your hands up? We can have a nice dialog in the school yard and you'd even have a bigger audience there too, ja?" That legion of Pageless behind Roma could spring into action at any moment, keeping Valeria on edge. "Kinder stay behind me. Now."</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Bell (Magical Maiden Ethereal Rose) @ShadowSunRisen Unfortunately for Olivia, between the efforts of Xolys, Suzuya, and the rest of the gathered Magical Girls, the Pageless were annihilated far too quickly for her to make more than the most cursory of observations of their adorable reptilian features. Although this brought the blonde beauty no small amount of disappointment, she knew that the swift culling of their foes was undoubtedly for the best, lest one of the monsters manage to harm any of her fellow Magical Girls, or worse, escape into the city beyond. As it transpired, however, the battle did not conclude with the elimination of the final Pageless, but, rather, with the arrival of yet another Magical Girl… She was a strikingly tall masked woman, who emerged from what was once an art supply store. She'd apparently been putting what supplies still remained to good use, at least, if the splotches of paint on her hands was any indication. Lavishly garbed, she possessed an exceedingly refined demeanor, one that was not lessened in the slightest by her manner of speech. Once the new arrival had given her greeting, and Ozma her response, Olivia realized that this was the person they'd been seeking, Moonlight Tsubasa. She'd heard about her from Suzuya, whose team had encountered the masked maiden during their patrol a few days earlier. However, despite the unsettling nature of that encounter, and the tense atmosphere that pervaded this one, Olivia's thoughts were, unsurprisingly, focused on something completely removed from any concern of impending danger… "Oh my goodness!" Olivia exclaimed, even as she felt a slight chill trickle down her spine. "She can make the Pageless stop attacking just like me! And she can even control them, too!" the Ethereal Rose added, her lovely visage seeming to glitter with wonderment. "You said you met her before, right Suzuya?!" the azure-clad maiden inquired with an enthusiastic gleam in her eyes. "Do you think if we asked nicely, she'd let us take a closer look at the Pageless behind her?! Or perhaps even pet them?!" "I believe now might not be the best time for that, my sweet," Xolys replied gently. "It would appear that a conversation of some significance is taking place, and it would be most impolite to interrupt such a discourse, do you not agree, Miss Suzuya?" the eldritch beast inquired of his passenger, whose previous gestures of respectful affection had been greatly appreciated. Olivia frowned slightly at her darling's words, but before she or Suzuya could respond, they heard Valeria issue an ultimatum to the new arrival. Looking in the german girl's direction, Olivia couldn't help but give voice to an alarmed gasp. Valeria had stepped forward to place herself between Tsubasa and the rest of the students, and was now aiming a pistol at the masked maiden. Olivia couldn't help but question if such a show of force was truly necessary. After all, Tsubasa didn't currently appear to be a threat. Indeed, if she truly harbored ill intentions towards the gathered Magical Girls, would she have called off the attacking Pageless and subsequently engaged them in polite conversation? As far as Olivia was concerned, if anything was going to make the mysterious woman turn hostile, and thus completely unreceptive to any requests to pet her subservient Pageless it would be an act of completely unwarranted aggression like this one. "P-Pardon me, Miss Valeria," Ethereal Rose spoke up. "But is it really necessary to treat Miss Tsubasa so aggressively? She hasn't done anything to harm us, and actually stopped the Pageless from attacking!" the blonde beauty added, gesturing to where the pacified Pageless were gathered behind Tsubasa. "I mean, she is a fellow Magical Girl, isn't she? Doesn't that mean we're on the same side?"</s> <\|message\|>María de Borbón @ShadowSunRisen@Ponn@Lonewolf685 Maria, who had witnessed Nessie effort and near-success, was now staring at Roma with intent as she walked around to position herself between Nessie and the new comer just like Valera did for everyone. "Miss Burns, dear, stand with the others please. Unless I'm very much mistaken, this would be the lady you or your colleagues have met before and the reason the Crimson Comet brought us here." She turned turned around and briefly smiled at Nessie, one hand on her shoulder; "I saw your efforts bear fruits, wonderfully done." and she nudged her student to go closer to the others "Call me as you wish, Miss Burns - though...calling me miss does make me feel quite younger." with this little attempt at a jest, Maria left Nessie with her peers and walked up to join Valeria between them and Roma. Nessie would have felt her touch to be...hotter than before. In fact, the air immediately surrounding Maria slowly began rising in temperature ever so slowly. As she did so, she address Olivia's answer partly; "Miss Bell, your curiosity is admirable, but I fear it might be misplaced in this situation." Not having been there for their first encounters, Maria thought it more prudent to let Valeria fully answer Olivia's question. "Lady Bhakti, I presume." Maria said once everyone said their piece. "If unleashing your pets at our students is your way of presenting yourself, it is in poor tastes. We have not met yet. My name is María de Borbón, newly appointed Teacher and Guardian to these students of Marrywell Academy - whom lives you have threatened. Twice, I believe. If talk is what you are after, I strongly urge you to reconsider doing that again and to accept my colleague's proposition."</s>	<\|message\|>Celina Kennedy, Lupin For a moment, it almost seemed too easy. Cleave and maim, rip and tear. Just a moment longer and the reversed ambush would be done with. Atleast, that's what Lupin was sure of. And then, an abrupt stop. The pageless were retreating. The wolf girl was almost tempted to go after them, until all eyes were turned to a new face. A new, regal and dangerous looking face. Their target was drawn out. Now what? Where her fellow magical girls reacted outloud to Roma, be it in curiosity or caution, Lupin remained quiet. Though the sight of the teachers standing in between the strange woman and them earned an unamused look. She could handle herself just fine, thank you. She didn't know who she was, what she's done, or why they were hunting her. But one thing's for sure. If the amount of Pageless behind her in waiting was something to go off of? Lupin eyed Moonlight Tsubasa intently, emitting a low, animalistic growl. The others can go ahead and try the diplomatic approach all they want. But once their target decided against it, she'll be tearing the flesh off her skin with her teeth and keeping that mask as a trophy. For now, she remained near Stripes. Protecting her partner was a priority in her eyes.</s>
<\|description\|>Celina Kennedy, Lupin Age: 17 Nationality: Irish Description: Well, when you come from a country well known for it's mythos, the concept of grimores and the Pageless doesn't seem so far fetched. A level-headed young woman, Celina is a relatively new magical girl with almost a year under her belt. Caring, but can also be a bit territorial, protective to the ones she grows attached to. Though she does have moments where she loses her temper, she dares not to harm anyone innocent in the process and heavily restrains herself to prevent such an outcome. Hailing from Dublin, Celina's life growing up was...pretty much normal. She was the middle child, wedged between an older brother and a sickly twin sister, and her parents though busy did their best for their children. They did well in school, they had good friends (except that one time), Celina's brother even got a job at one point. So what could've happened to turn Celina into the red-cloaked Lupin? For some reason, her twin's condition began to get worse, eventually leaving her hospitalized. The other two siblings did their best to stay by her side while their parents handled most of the medical stuff, borrowing books from the library and helping her around her room. Her sister's condition didn't get worse in their efforts, but it didn't get better either. No one knew what the cause was, and the stress of it began to ignite conflict between Celina's family. She didn't care. In the dead of night during one visit, Celina woke up to the sound of animalistic growling. At first she assumed it was her mind playing tricks after a dream, but that came into question once she saw the source of the noise. A spine chilling sight, the Pageless bore a similar appearance to a wolf, only...wrong. Terrifying. Yet she didn't scream. For some reason she didn't, even though she was internally panicking at the mere sight of the monster. Becauss it looked like it didn't notice her, or was saving her for later, for it only held grim intentions for the still-sleeping twin. Celina didn't even have to think of why or what it's reason was. It had to go. She quietly made her way over to a stack of books on the bedside table, and throwing caution to the wind, threw one at the Pageless before it could strike. And once she got it's attention, she kept attacking it, driving it away. Until the last book answered to her desperation, and a small blade took it's place, piercing through the false wolf's flesh. Standing in Celina Kennedy's place was another threat entirely. One who would be known by the moniker Lupin. The beast was swiftly dealt with, and Lupin dissapeared into the night. She had to learn more about these creatures, this power. And perhaps kill the rest of that one Pageless' pack while she was at it. But Celina did return in the morning before anyone could be concerned. That Pageless. Was it just feasting on her sister's life force, or was it trying to prevent the wrong twin from finding their grimore? Either way, she hoped her sister could recover from that. After some time had passed, Celina was taken in by the Grand Ministry, and moved to London so she could attend Marrywell Academy. The Ministry themselves, she's mostly indifferent to. Though that's probably because she doesn't have a set opinion on them yet. Grimoire: • Title: Little Red Riding Hood • Classification: Fable • Description: Little Red Riding Hood is a European fairy tale about a young girl and a Big Bad Wolf. Its origins can be traced back to several pre-17th century European folk tales. The two best known versions were written by Charles Perrault and the Brothers Grimm, which this Grimore derives from. • Abilities: The Wolf - After Little Red had entered the woods, a seemingly innocuous wolf approached her. Lupin adopts the traits of one such wolf to help her in her own hunt. Acute hearing, improved eyesight during night time; essentially giving her night vision, and sharp canines that can tear through flesh of both humans and pageless. Well, under the assumption that the pageless do have flesh. Lupin's "claws" come in the form of her weapon, a seemingly endless amount of throwing knifes usually stored inside her jacket. The Hunter - After the Wolf had finished his feast, he fell asleep. He snored so loudly a huntsman followed the sound and cut Little Red and her Grandma free. A passive ability, Lupin's physical prowess is increased whilst she's transformed, letting her take a few more heavy blows than one normally could. The Hood - The Big Bad Wolf had decieved both Grandma and Little Red, eating them whole after they've let their guard down. Lupin's own hood isn't just for show. It allows her to take the appearance of anyone she gets a good look at. However, the illusion isn't entirely perfect. Perhaps their voice is too high or low, or the color of their eyes are the wrong shade. There will always be something that sets Lupin's disguise apart from the real deal. Misc:</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Bell (Magical Maiden Ethereal Rose) Although Olivia had addressed her question to Valeria, it was Ozma who answered first, noting that she was indeed correct in her assumption that they were all Magical Girls, and thus should all be on the same side. Nonetheless, an uneasy tension continued to suffuse the air, accentuated by the flurry of less-than-enthusiastic responses that followed. First was Maria, who commended Olivia's curiosity, yet still felt it was out of place in such a serious situation. This was followed by Suzuya leaping off Xolys and placing herself between Olivia and Tsubasa, while somewhat harshly rebuking the azure-clad beauty's attempt to try and pet the now seemingly pacified Pageless. Although Olivia knew her friend was simply trying to protect her, the fox girl's words still caused a frown to mar the fair maiden's otherwise lovely countenance. Before she could say anything in reply, Valeria finally gave her own reponse, informing the Ethereal Rose that the masked Magical Girl had a dangerous reputation, and thus was someone to be extremely wary of. This revelation did little to remove the frown from the blonde beauty's face, but she understood that if a Magical Girl with as much experience as Valeria was giving such warnings, then they were probably true and she would do well to heed them. "O-Oh, I see…" Olivia replied softly. "Very well then," she added, giving a small nod of acknowledgment, while silently joining the German in hoping that the tense standoff wouldn't dissolve into violence and feeling considerable relief when the metal-limbed girl lowered her pistol. Still, those concerns were quickly forgotten when Tsubasa began speaking once more, her words as refined and elegant as ever. But this time, she was addressing Olivia and her consort directly… Oh my gosh! Is she actually giving me a chance to pet them?! the lovely maiden thought to herself, almost squealing with delight, and completely missing the insult directed towards her roommate. Oh, how absolutely wonderful! she gushed, closing her eyes as her lips curled into a blissful smile. Indeed, the blonde beauty was so enraptured by her imaginings of what such an experience might be like that she was utterly oblivious to the rest of the masked maiden's monologue. Thus, it came as a bit of a surprise when she was broken out of her reverie by the sound of Ozma mentioning something about a "real body" and subsequently caught sight of one of the other girls conjuring a quartet of mystic projectiles, all aimed at Tsubasa… "U-Ummm, what's going on?" an utterly clueless Olivia inquired. "Miss Tsubasa has just enumerated her goals," her darling Xolys replied. "And it regretfully appears that they stand in opposition to our own." While his lovely consort had been dreaming of cuddling and snuggling with piles of cute Pageless, the Master of Xhar'doth had been paying close attention to the continuing exchange between Tsubasa and the rest of the gathered Magical Girls. Although the eldritch beast had yet to hear the masked maiden's responses to the very reasonable inquiries posed to her, something told him that Tsubasa's answers would do little to defuse the tense atmosphere. In fact, he was almost certain they would do the exact opposite, something Ozma's insinuation that the Tsubasa who stood before them was merely an illusion of some form only seemed to confirm. With that in mind, he tightened his grip on Olivia and made sure to move one of his larger appendages so as to shield the azure-clad beauty from any potential ranged attacks. Concurrently, he readied his myriad other limbs to spring into action at the slightest hint of danger, while tiny eyes formed on dozens of tentacular stalks, allowing him a full three hundred and sixty degree field of vision. If Moonlight Tsubasa really was planning to engage in combat, then Thyerg'Xolys would be ready…</s> <\|message\|>María de Borbón In front of Roma's antics and grand theatrical answers, Maria opted to remain silent. The blond teacher instead used the exchange of words between the rogue magical girl, Ozma and her students to take a closer look at their surroundings, the pageless and Roma herself - for she had came to the same conclusion as the Crimson Comet about Roma's real body not being the one speaking to them now, which Valeria more than probably also caught on to. Also, there was not much to tell Roma as her ideals and reasons seemed to be twisted. A fact which Stripe didn't fail to shout back at the self proclaimed savior of Magical Girls. Bhakti's speech seemed to make sense on surface, but as soon as you dug even a tiny bit you realized just how much she fell down in her own interpretation of things. Unfortunately, Maria believed that the girl truly believed her own words. Maria wondered then what exactly could have happened for someone like Roma to fall this far and then decided she would have to do a little digging once back at the Academy. For now, however, the priority was the safety of the students. While they probably could handle themselves well in a fight and, looking at them, they seemed ready to do so this was beyond the point. As Senior, it was their role to protect the next generation so that they could reach their full potential and take over. This situation was made more risky not only by the physical threat but also the very real possibility that such twisted words could lay a dormant seed in the minds of those more innocent and grow into something twisted, like Roma became. "Do you see, Lady Bhakti, how our students see through your twisted words and corrupted morals? You spoke of Pageless and of Magical Girls - but what of the innocents? Pageless do not only hunt Magical Girls, they kill indiscriminately. How many defenseless humans died to them as well? You seem to think strength grants you the right to lead and go on a crusade for your own fabricated goals. It does not matter to me what the Academy or anyone else says. You forget that our strength and powers should be used first and foremost to Protect." Maria then turned to Valeria, who whispered to her. Lady Weizenbaum... - Maria thought - Are you not the most noblest of Knights. Even so, I could never forgive myself if you were to be wounded doing such a noble act... She answered, lowering her voice somewhat. "Are you certain of this, Valeria? If things turn sour, and this Lady Bhakti indeed intend to harm anyone of us, the chances are likely that whomever remain would be the target, as they would be isolated. If things turn to conflict, would it not be more prudent to pool all our strength in ensuring everyone's safety?"</s>	<\|message\|>Celina Kennedy, Lupin When Roma called her out specifically at the start of her long winded bullshit speech, the masked maiden's stare caused Lupin to recoil with a flinch. For whatever reason she could tell her intentions, and it didn't help her win over the wolf girl's trust. In fact, it only made Lupin more ready to attack at the slightest hint of hostility. Tsubasa then went on to state her intentions, which to Celina only boiled down to "The Pageless are innocent, you're the one's to blame, yada yada yada." It was admittedly boring to listen to. Thankfully most of the others seemed to agree, even Stripes spoke up about how utterly stupid Roma's plans were. Lupin looked over to the Tabby when she motioned over to her, but remained quiet. Rose, bless her heart, seemed too oblivous to even take this seriously. The wolf girl gave her and her groom a worried frown. She waited till everyone said their piece. If Ozma's assumption that this was a simulacrum of Moonlight Tsubasa, then someone had to keep a fluffy ear or two out for ambushers. Lupin's ears quirked straight up, twitching here and there like tuning a radio. And she finally spoke up, drawing back her scowl: "Let's think of it like this. If we're supposed to surrender our Grimores; the ones that chose us to wield their power, because you for some reason pity these parasites and blame us for them being bothersome, then why don't you untransform and let them eat your grimore?" She jabbed back at the Celestial. Her tone remained cold. "You say the Pageless obey the strongest, so let's see how they react to you without your power. Unless you're the apparent- Who am I kidding, obvious exception. Wouldn't surprise me if you were a megalomaniac." She shrugged.</s>
<\|description\|>Scri'erk Alias/Nicknames: Ol' fat spider, Trapmaster, webmaster Race: Giant cave Arachnid (Gaint monstrous spider-like bugs used by drow or found sprawling the Underdark. They have long pedipalps for grabbing, mandibles for injecting venom, and a long, thin stinger tail. Combined with a hard carapace and webs, these predators are no pushover! Fortunately, they lack good vision, relying on a very weak tremor sense and primitive eyes. Additionally, they are very combustible, suffering from a vulnerability to fire. Gender: ♀ Background: Scri'erk was born in the wild, dangerous, Underdark amongst dozens of siblings. She scurried off as to not be eaten by her bigger siblings or her mother. Time in the caves was boring and lonely, and those few she met were often trying to kill her or vice versa. When she found Everdark, things were different. Food was more abundant than she could ever imagine. She spent her time lurking the caves and mapping its labyrinthian design in her head. Her mind brimmed with questions about what this once was, and as she reached maturity she set up a couple of webs near the entrance. As the years went on, she would catch plentiful prey: from adventurers to beast to other denizens of the ruins. In time she became known as a barrier from the outside, as her webs alone made any who dared enter the cave easy pickings. Age came with wisdom and though only a decade old, she was already branching out in her trap design. Some of the more pitiful monsters began giving her offers and soon she became a go-to when looking for help warding off enemies. Just hope she isn't too hungry! Personality: Scri'erk is an odd person. Stoic, but genuine, she is mostly just a silent observer at times. When she has to talk she is blunt and straightforward. She isn't one who relies of others and openly dislikes any association with anyone. That said, she isn't against the occasional idle chat here and there. What makes Scri'erk so odd is that she does not have to restrain her primal needs: specifically hunger. She has to be constantly reminded not to eat her friends, and may an offering has ended with someone covered in webbing until she remembers not to eat them. Scri'erk is driven mostly by survival instincts and it shows. Scri'erk likes exploring and fighting, as they are most of what she does these days. Her biggest fear is fire, it takes all the monstrous nature she had right out of her and turns her into a squealing little girl. Similarly, drow has a tendency to unnerve her, since they often take her kind. Appearance: A picture of your character or a written description of what your character looks like, whichever suits you best. Skills: Combat Skill: Venomous bite/sting Non-Combat Skill: Stealth Possessions: Spider bindle. Just kidding, nothing but old bones and rusty chain shirts.</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Lower Levels Dor as Zarroy, @Birdboy as Scri'erk, @SleepingSilence as Dylirius, @Moon Man as the Spore that Speaks and @Gentlemanvaultboy as Yvaine Below the uppermost level of the dungeon are cavernous tunnels leading in all directions, full of bioluminescent fungi and other fauna ripe for harvesting, but to those carelessly wandering it would be easy to miss the silvery outline of webbing near one of the tunnels leading down a level that of the webs made by Scri'erk as she lay in wait for her next meal. It seemed lately her meals were mostly the blood of dark elves, not that it wasn't a bad thing of course as at the moment the arachnid was well-fed. Wandering amongst the fungi was the catlike demon Dylirius, picking a choice mushroom cap here and there unbeknownst to the presence of another, the Spore that Speaks silently tended to the patches of glowing fungus sprouting from the decaying remains of an elf likely another dark elf but it didn't concern it at the very least. Heavy footsteps shook the caves as a lumbering construct stomped down one of the tunnels, and unfortunately right through a web completely ruining the strands of webbing and sending vibrations to the spider that weaved it. Patrolling the area far more carefully than her brethern had Yvaine the dark elf navigated the winding network of passages with ease before coming upon the remains of a recent camp, unmistakably that of her kind. She was sure her people were up to something, but what?</s> <\|message\|>Zarroy (Pronounced Zarr oi) Zarroy was unsure of how long he has been traveling down the tunnels. Sometimes he could walk with great posture other times he had to crawl and pull himself through the openings. He had been given a task by one of the older and wiser denizens to go look for more survivors in a section of Everdark that was further back into the cave network. Zarroy was holding a young goblin that fit fairly well into the palm of his hand. The goblins childish face peeked out into the darkness. "Are you sure this is the right way?" Zarroy was silent for a moment as the single flaming orb in his eye moved from darkness to more darkness, before he started to continue forward. The goblin glanced up at the golem who merely nodded his head. Zarroy knew these tunnels well. After a few more minutes of walking in silence the goblin made a pssssssh noise and flailed its arms about wildly. "I wish you wouldn't do that." The goblin groaned at Zarroy as it was in the process of trying to remove the overly sticky webbing from its face and hair once again. This was only like the seventh web Zarroy had casually waltzed through. The golem chuckled slightly creating a grating noise, as its eye glanced down at his companion. If the goblin had been by himself, he would have had to go the long way around multiple times as he wasn't strong enough to get through the webbings. Soon the duo reached there goal. A small ruined gathering of buildings. Most of the communities in Everdark were unnamed or were only referred to by the most popular building amongst them. This little spot was referred to as Slumbering Lantern as the main buildings light sources seemed to invoke drossiness. The buildings were all ruined and for the most part demolished save for its namesake. Zarroy grabbed one of the fallen walls of a smaller building with three of his four arms and pulled the wall back sending it crashing down with a loud noise and the two waited for the dust to settle as they looked into the remains of the house. Zarroy gently set the goblin down as he moved into the house and kneeled down in front of a body. It looked like a empty medieval suit of armor, except it was crushed inward in parts and the helmet was completely caved in. Zarroy scooped the body up into two of his arms as his eye inspected one of his old friends. The golem had heard about death many times and while he didn't fully comprend it, he knew it was an eternal sleep. The little goblin scurried off deeper into the house to see if there was any survivors as Zarroy was processing his emotions.</s>	<\|message\|>Scri'erk Thin, spindly pedipalps scrapped again the ground around Scri'erk inquisitively probing the areas where her poor vision failed to fill the gaps. Her low hunkered body easily fit into a large gash in the wall where an earth tremor long ago likely split the walls. It hardly mattered to the large bug hiding in her newest trap. A large web she held with her front claws concealed her body and allowed her to use her longer appendages to check her various webs to see if a meal had been caught. She had gone nearly two days now since her last catch. Perhaps she needed to innovate once more. Her train of thought was cut off as around her the earth shook again and again, getting increasingly more intense. Her pedipalps curled in to join the rest of her in fear, she had this happen every couple of weeks or so. All the webs she sprawled out would be ravaged, all because of a foolish denizen of the Everdark. As the tremors reached their crescendo, Scri'erks eyes struggled to watch the bane of her existence bumble on by. As the golem walked by her, Scri'erk scurried after it, eager to give the major pain in her Thorax a piece of her mind. Unfortunately, her low-crawling steps were nothing to the long legs of her adversary and she was struggling to keep up. Only when they stopped in an abandoned house did she reach them. "Broke webs! Traps gone!" Scri'erk rasped. Mimicking language was not something she was great at, but over time she had learned to speak the common tongue of the underdark. Plenty of practice with those stuck in her webs gave her the skill, but it made her throat hoarse to do. "Webs mine! Don't broke!"</s>
<\|description\|>Hecate Alias/Nicknames: N/A Race: Wraith (intangibility, weak telekinesis, flight, vulnerable to magic and magic weapons, advantageous to physical weapons and attacks) Gender: ♀ Background: Hecate was spawned from negative emotions of man and monster alike during a plague in a nearby town, and given form. She has been drifting around the Everdark for years. She got along well enough with the other monsters, as she didn't really take up room or resources. However, she did grow a love for cooking, despite not being able to eat herself, she'd often cook for her friends. During the attack, she made herself scarce, using her intangibility to avoid the adventurers. She was afraid and could feel the fear and anger in the halls as many people she once called friend met a grisly end. Personality: Hecate is timid, and one would assume that the negative emotion she spawned from were mostly fear and sadness. She is soft-spoken, and her expression is usually one of sadness, however she has been seen smiling and enjoying herself too. She has a deep hatred for humans and the other races that thought to raid her home, though she had a distaste with them to begin with. She has a deep hidden anger within her as well, that's just waiting to burst. She is also vastly susceptible to magic and magic weapons, though normal weaponry passes right through her. Appearance: Hecate has the face of a young woman, her face rounded and her eyes an eerie platinum white, just a shade brighter than the rest of herself, which is an ethereal and transparent white. She has long hair that wisps around in the air, the same platinum white as her eyes. She is covered by what appears to be tattered shrouds that hang down to her ankles. She has an eerie beauty to her that's equal parts alluring and repulsive. Skills: Combat Skill: Icy wind (A gust of freezing, bitter wind. Flurries and small shards of ice are present in the wind and can graze those she aims it at. Non-Combat Skill: Cooking Possessions: N/A</s> <\|message\|>Mortimer Costello Interacting with: @RogueFox@Shadow Dragon "I understand your concern with others..." It was a known fact that not all the denizens of the Everdark were amicable to one another. Some even were outright hostile. "but isn't it a good sign that he hasn't attacked us or even threatened us on sight?" It was around this point that he 'felt' the vampire take his hand and gives it a polite shake and explain to the duo that his magic will only affect those with blood. "No doubt about that sir vampire, but I'm sure you are powerful in your own way." Rather than turn his body away from the hemomancer vampire, the skeleton simply opts to turn his head 180° with his free hand to face the worrywart wraith. Attempting reassure her that the vampire was more of a potential friend than a potential foe. "See, Hecate? He seems a decent enough individual. Give the guy a chance." Twisting his head back to face the vampire, one could observe that the blue motes of flame inside his eye sockets shape themselves into downward crescents. As if to notify the vampire that the bug-infested skeleton was rather happy. "I take it that this means that we would be travelling together for the foreseeable future?" And maybe even beyond that; as he'd be sure that the vampire also had a vendetta to be settled against those adventurers.</s> <\|message\|>Hecate Interacting with: @Shadow Dragon @Searat Hecate, upon seeing the vampire's interaction with Mortimer, and hearing that his magic can't effect her, she visibly loosened up. She floated out from behind Mortimer. "I... I will give him a chance." She looked between the two, and though they weren't the company she used to keep, she felt comfort in no longer being alone. "Yes, we will, I suppose... but to what end? I was hoping to find survivors and rebuild the Everdark.... I have had no luck in finding anyone... She let out another mournful sob as ethereal tears fell from her eyes and dissipated before making it halfway to the ground. "Are your plans similar, sirs?" Hecate attempted to stiffen her upper lip, but sorrow remained evident on her face as she reminisced of the goblins and other monsters she had seen as family. Some Lamias, cave trolls, and even more were among her now deceased friends. She used to cook meals for them from the meats they harvested from rats, small fish, and the rare adventurer who had journeyed too far alone. She cried yet again, realizing that even now she won't be able to cook for her new companions.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch What was that? Yvain poked her head out of the barren tent. Sound carried far in the Evardark, and the echo she caught bouncing out of one of the nearby tunnels was as fain as it was unmistakable. The chaotic clangs of blade on blade combat. Between who was the question. She darted forward, scooping her torch out of the spent campfire and sprinted down the tunnel towards the source. Who? Who? She had to keep herself from calling out. The fact that both were humanoid narrowed down the list of who it could be, but those possibilities were still enough to scare her into silence. It could be a survivor from her unit, of course, but it could also be one of the adventurers. One that was still hanging around, or had gotten lost, or had just had so much fun then were still looking for a challenge. The image of the giant, musclebound beast of a half-orc that had brought the pommel of his great sword down directly on her helmet and ruined it came to mind. Finding one of the full orc mercenaries the dungeons boss had hired on might be even worse. At least she could be sure that the the adventurers probably wouldn't eat her after she was done. It could be a mad skeleton who was off its magic chain and angry at the living. It could be a animated armor stuck in battle mode. It could be two goblin fighting over a patch of mushroom. The number of thing it could be besides a survivor was astoundingly large and almost everything else would probably want her dead. It turned out to be more other dark elves. The sounds of battle stopped as she approached, replaced with voices. She slowed down, creeping forward so as not to let them know she was approaching. They were speaking her language but she didn't recognize either of the voices. There was a heart shaking sound of cutting, followed by something splattering to the floor. The winner had the voice and the laugh of a madman, enough so to freeze Yvain in place. She drew her sword, slowly, quietly, waiting for the sound of his footsteps to come her way. Instead they pattered away in the opposite direction, down one of the many tunnels, and Yvain let out the breath she had been holding in. The cavern she stepped into was illuminated only by the light of a single lantern, but even still she could make out a form slumped against the far wall. He was breathing raggedly, using his final breaths to speak kindly to weapon discarded on the floor. Breathing. Breathing! Still alive! She rushed across the room, kneeling next to the fallen man. She felt something soaking into her knees. A lot of something. Enough something to know that first aide wasn't an option for anything short of magic, and unfortunately enough their resident Cleric had been the first one to go when the adventurers swept through. She didn't panic. Death by other Dark Elf was unfortunately a common occurrence where she was from. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "Yvain, Cry Wolves. You guys were probably here because of me. What happened?" Light</s> <\|message\|>Vinashy Interacting with:@Searat and @RogueFox "Indeed. Those 'heros'-" He spits the word out like a curse, "-burchered helpless residents of this cave network. I want them to suffer, to writhe in agony the way they made your friends. They deserve it for all they've done to you. Make them weap, fill them with the sorrow you yourself feel this very moment." He raises his arms in the air, beckoning them to him. "Join me in a quest of vengeance. They wish to kill for sport? Let's show them how it feels to be hunted."</s> <\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "Oh" The sword thought in a contemplative silence as the large eye in its hilt split open and rolled to gaze upon its dying wielder. It could hear his words but could not reply since they were no longer in contact. What would it say anyway. The fragile creature was expiring. As they often did. "Perhaps I should have done something?" It mused, trying to understand why it hadn't felt like doing more. Meanwhile it just watched as the dying drow's life essence steadily escape him, a pool of blood growing larger around him ever slowly creeping closer and closer to the weapon. Then a new figure emerged. The weapon had already been aware of her presence but could now physically see her form as she knelt over the dying dark elf. Curious. He found her actions to be of interest and continued to watch on intently. His wide yellow eye very occasionally blinking.</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk Dor Spider. That's what it came up with, what a disgustingly uncouth thing to mistake her for. As the golem reached down to pet her, Scri'erk instinctively caught the hand with her vicious claws, trying in vain to snip away at the stone. A series of slanderous hisses and grunts in her native tongue erupted from the spider before she managed to speak a more intelligible speech. "Not well! Broke web! Not well!"</s> <\|message\|>Mortimer Costello Interacting with: @RogueFox@Shadow Dragon "Oh I plan on doing both." Mort said with all seriousness he could muster. "The Everdark is my home now and I have no intention of leaving it as a ruin...but my metaphorical heart is utterly engulfed with the fires of vengeance and nothing short of seeing them being eaten alive by my insects would abate the flames. So, why won't we kill two birds with one stone?" The infested skeleton then gestures to the general area of the dungeon. "If we pursued them now, at our current state, we would nary accomplish anything than to add to the dead. And without a proper home and community like we had before, the next group of those bastard adventurers can easily destroy us even before we could even get anywhere near strong enough to take our vengeance." The skeleton then holds up a finger to punctuate his suggestion. "Therefore I propose that we rebuild the Everdark, better than what it was before, and in the process get stronger and stronger as we nurture this gestating nation of monsters. Fending it from threats within and without and when the time comes, and it will come, we march our armies to the surface and repay them in kind." Mortimer pauses as he revels of what carnage they will wreak upon the surface. "So...what say you my new friends?"</s> <\|message\|>Zarroy (Pronounced Zarr oi) Interacting with: @Birdboy When Zarroys hand was caught by Scri'erk his eye seemed to brighten with joy. He didn't see her actions as an attack because it felt like she was tickling his palm. Then to top off the stone cake with the rock cherry on top he got to listen to a symphony of noises that the golem surely felt was a song of her people. "Not well! Broke web! Not well!" Not well? Thought Zarroy. He withdrew his hand to his side not really noticing if he drug Scri'erk who was still resisting his affection. He glanced down at the Trapmaster not noticing any wounds on her. Strange... Can spiders get colds? He rubbed his chin in thought as a small voice came from within the ruined home. "Ma....Ma....Master Tr..Trapmaster" Came the timid voice of the young goblin. The young goblin hopefully caught her attention distracting her away from her bumbling yet well meaning companion. The goblins of Everdark had long since used Scri'erk as a creature of worship using her when possible to get rid of their problems by evading her webs and luring their pursuers into her webs. "The denizen here had a large food storage of meat, if it is to your liking.." The small goblin pointed towards what was once a food storage that was well packed with not just meat, but herbs, and other things. "Zarroy and I, Ginto were sent by Isatar to look for Survivors down here. I don't know if you know Master Trapmaster, but most of Everdark is currently in ruins.." ----------- Zarroy had not be kneeling idly while this conversation was going on. He had noticed when he ran his hand down his chest a lot of ruined webbing. He had begun the process of peeling the pebble laden webbing off and applying it to the opening that had gotten them to the Slumbering Lantern. After a few minutes of work he backed away from his creation. If it were not for the fact that Scri'erk's webbing was really strong this makeshift web (and the term is being used loosely here) probably would not have stopped a strong gust of wind. Zarroy's top arms crossed while his bottom arms rested happily on his hips proud of his work. He would have to show Scri'erk his handiwork and hopefully this would make his friend well.</s>	<\|message\|>Hecate Hecate listened to Mortimer's speech, visibly shaken by his sincerity, and by the bravery he and Vinashy were showing. She shook her head with a mournful expression. I do not know what kind of help I could be with fighting adventurers. I am not very strong... Though, rebuilding the Everdark is something I very much would like to do. I have not yet traveled deeper into the dungeon... mayhaps we head that way to search for more survivors...?" She gazed at her brave companions, feeling a little more hopeful than she had just 5 minutes ago.</s>
<\|description\|>Vinashy Alias/Nicknames: Bloodborne Race: Bloodmage (minor vampire) (for now) Gender: ♂ Background: He came to the dungeon in search of new hunting grounds to stave off his endless thirst for living blood. He hates holy magic with a passion, always attacking them first, often without thinking. If he goes too long without feeding, it can send him into a blood frenzy where he attempts to attack and drain anything nearby. The other monster living in the dungeon are sorted into three categories in his mind: magical, powerful, and prey. Personality: Hungry, cruel to trespassers. An ally to the other in the dungeon, unless you betray them. Then you're worse then dead. Appearance: Well versed in blood magics (i.e. blood rituals) In future (summoning blood elementals, controlling the blood in a living body, ect) Alchemy (potions, poisons, herbs, ect) Blood ruital book, unholy symbols, robe with hidden pockets where he hides his stuff, blood blade</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Searching Crypts @RogueFox @Shadow Dragon In the dusty corpse ridden halls of Everdark's upper half, the trio would find no living survivors other than rodents and other vermin picking corpses clean of their flesh. Vinashy was unfortunately the only one with olfactory senses so the smell of pustulant rotting flesh assailed his nostrils, but it was nothing the blood ritualist couldn't handle. Some bits and pieces of broken weapons littered the floors nearby the bodies, some had the irreparable vestige of armor clinging to their remains. But between the buzzing of flies suddenly came the sound of brisk and rapidly recedeing footsteps, whoever it was they were in a hurry to get away. It sounded like whoever or whatever the footfalls belonged to were anxious to flee to the deeper portion of the dungeon.</s> <\|message\|>Mortimer Costello Interacting with: @RogueFox@Shadow Dragon "More of the same..." Mortimer says as they wandered deeper into the dungeon's halls. He'd note that he should bury their dead after they establish a base of sorts. Just felt wrong to just leave them there rotting with the bodies of those horrid adventurers. But what caught his full attention was the sound of footfalls that weren't his nor the vampire's echoing through the halls as it grew fainter and fainter as the being that caused it went deeper into the dungeon. Mortimer called out but it seemed that he reacted too late. The sound of footsteps had gone so distant that he couldn't hear them any longer. "I'm sure that I wasn't the only one who heard that. We ought to follow them...but keep your guards up. We don't know if they're hostile or not." He was feeling a little more confident than when he was all alone but confidence would nary hinder an attacker's blade. Better to be prepared for the worst rather than getting caught with your metaphorical pants down.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch So they were getting close. Yaaaaay. She wished she had some general idea of how strong the man they were pursuing actually was. Well, actually, she did: strong enough that he killed a whole scout force by himself. She could only hope he had done that through subterfuge and surprise, because if he hadn't she was just going to have to rely on getting the drop on him or getting lucky. It was a good thing, then, that she was "blessed" with an inordinate supply of good luck. To take her mind off that she focused on the question...sword, she guessed... had asked her. "Opera isn't a place, it's a performance. Entertainment. Like a play, but every word is sung. And it's sung in old Elvish, so most of us younger delves have to read the plot in a book before it starts. It was pretty, but it wasn't her thing. Mostly old legends about war and romance, betrayal and revenge. A whole lot of betrayal and revenge. "There was Mourning Lily. It was stabbed into the heart of a Matriarch and froze her in magic sleep, so her favorite concubine had to go on and arduous quest to find a way to break the spell. I'm pretty sure that one was just an allegory. Most of them are. Tusk was this wicked sword wielded by the queen of the hobgoblins that inflicted wounds that never stopped hurting. Crownseeker was an sword that was used so many times in coups and assassinations that it developed a taste for noble blood. Durenadal was used by the king of the High Elves during the great war thousands of years ago, some unbreakable hold sword that could never be defeated, but the first Queen managed to seduce the king and steal it. That one I think is real. I heard it was locked up in the palace vault somewhere." Light</s> <\|message\|>Phaid Phaid the Bullywug kept his slow pace as he approached the furry medicine man and the mushroom man. After the events of a few weeks ago, Phaid and all the remaining Bullywugs had learned to avoid anyone they didn't know. But Phaid considered himself a brave creature, at least for a Bullywug. He was still embarrassed over his actions during the massacre that happened in the Everdark a few weeks back. When Phaid and some fellow Bullywugs first got wind of the slaughter, their fight or flight instinct kicked in. They decided on flight, retreating to the deep water tunnels of their domain. The frog-men would hide in this submerged section of the dungeon for several days, praying that whatever was killing the other creatures wasn't amphibious. It had been a low point for Phaid, the so called Puddle Knight. When the hidden Bullywugs did finally return to the surface of the dungeon, they found most of their kin slain, just a few feet away from the water's edge. Since then, the Bullywugs had stayed close to their watery home. They had not wanted to go and see how the other races were affected by the slaughtered, worried minds wondering if the goblin clan survived and would once again attack them. Or what happened to the Dark Elves, Undead, or other powerful beings who ran large portions of the Everdark. But as Phaid approached the two creatures, he wondered if the massacre hadn't been as bad if these ones survived it. But Phaid didn't appear to be the only antsy away, leaving a fog of yellow spores. Phaid thought that he was more imposing than he thought, only for a spore to touch his nose, causing it to go numb. But before any more of the spores could reach Phaid, the furry medicine man handed him some sort of vegetable, telling him to suck out its innards. Phaid wondered if this was a free first taste, so he did as instructed, a slime leaving the plant and coating his throat. As he did this, Phaid no longer felt the numbness as the spores landed on him. The medicine man then told him to keep the plant in his mouth if he wished to breathe and speak. Phaid quickly realized that this wasn't a free first hit, but rather to do away with what the mushroom man had done. He figured that the bitter tasting slime should of been a giveaway. Phaid naturally moved the plant around in his mouth, always keeping it secreting. "Thanks for whatever this is," said Phaid with some trouble as he tried to keep the plant firmly in his mouth, "But do you have any of those spotted flowers, the ones that can take you to the dream plane? I have trinkets to trade for it." What Phaid didn't mention was that these trinkets had been looted from the bodies of fellow Bullywugs. After so many died in the massacre, they could at least continue to benefit the clan. And by that Phaid meant benefit himself, the definite next head of the clan, especially since most of the competition had died. [Interacting with: @SleepingSilence]</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk Dor Scri'erk could be ornery but she had the ability to listen to reason. She had heard rumors that the golem's mind had been addled. Worse yet, looking at it's heaping size she could not deny that perhaps it would be hard for someone of their stature to move out of the way of her webs. That was the point really, to get people to touch them. Putting her grudges aside she let reason win this time. The tasty goblin seemed to interject before Scri'erk could find a reason to be mad again. They were hoping to go deeper into the everdark; a dangerous proposition. Luckily between Scri'erk's deadly poison's and Zarroy's strength they had nothing to be afraid of. "Danger! Goblin ride on Zarroy" She said as she took the lead, prodding into the dark abyss before them with her mandibles. In other circumstances she would allow the small humanoid to ride her own carapaced back. With Zarroy with them, however, she felt the morsel would be much safer away from her own greedy mandibles. Already she could feel them frothing again in hunger. Perhaps there would be a meal for her in the next town.</s> <\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "Hmm" Was all the sword said, short and sharp. Amused even. For a moment it seemed like it was going to speak again, to share its thoughts, but it didn't. After a small walk in silence where the sword replied to nothing, it suddenly and urgently blurted. "Stop!" Then, ignoring the urgency of its past words it casually continued. "Tell me of this crown seeker, what did it look like?"</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch Yvain froze like mid step, like a cat that had been caught sneaking up on someone and wasn't sure whether it should charge forward or retreat. They had come to a hallway of dilapidated stonework, crude barricades of piled stone constructed at either end that menaced with large wooden spikes where the ravages of time hadn't caused them to rot away or snap under their own weight. A tattered banner lay draped over one of them, a brown skull cackling at her. Beyond the barricade, through a small gap that gave entry, she could see moldering tarps piled on the ground that may have once been tents. Enough for two dozen men at least. Among they lay scattered bones and old brown stains. An orcish warband, maybe? She had heard they painted their banners in the blood of their foes. Who were they? The Everdark was old, and it was witness to more deaths than even her ancient mother. They could have been an enemy raid, or mercenaries hired by the dungeons master? Had they been killed by adventurers, like the others, or the residents? They could have even been the victims of an inter-faction spat within the Everdark itself, as sometimes happened. Who could say? Her minecart of thought was derailed as Sword asked her another question. In the opera. It was big, with a long silver blade and an ornate black hilt set with rubies. It was beautiful. She thought back to a few of the assassins that had been sent by her sisters. I never thought it looked right. It was too big. It took an age to swing, you would see it coming from a mile away. If a sword like that really exited I always thought it would be more subtle. Old. And really, really sharp. Light</s> <\|message\|>Dylirius Interacting With: @Martian His smiling face had yet to show any signs of distress. Though the truth is, he would've rather choked and died, than continue to smell what lingered on the bullywug's breath. So the secreting stem had yet another intentional benefit to Dylirius, as it eliminated the foul odor entirely. "Oh, of course." Dylirius replied, with a friendly smile. Dismissing what was in their mouths as casually as the warrior did, when he failed to share his name. Now stuck in place where his footpaws stood. As any movements that Dylirius did make, would uncomfortably tingle and sting like a scorpion's tail. "And I could give you those flowers-" The cat reiterated with emphasis. "But while we're both standing here. Perhaps I could interest you in something more—potent. For someone of greater stature." Dylirius offered, with his sales pitch prepared. "Either way. You're certainly not going to find a better resource to get high, in all of the Everdark." Dylirius asserted confidently. Knowing that those particular flowers and other rarer materials within the Everdark, had been pilfered by whatever humans managed to escape after the massacre. Meaning he'd be lucky to even scavenge some withered-up petals from others' corpses. And the last thing you would want, after taking strong mind-altering substances, is the modest reduction of a quality rush. Thus, Dylirius waited to see if the bullywug was interested in his wares. Ready to move and make the deal between them at the very second, once Spore's effects wore off. With the good chance that Dylirius would be able to move before his uncustomed customer would be. Even if it was only a slight difference. Given how frequently inflicted he had been by the Spore's effects. Both through natural circumstances and risky experimentation done on his own. Not that Dylirius would ever make that obvious, when interacting with his skittish companion. Having no desire to worry him deliberately. "I'll take whatever you can give me, in exchange for creating your payment." Dylirius acknowledged, with his eyes briefly looking up and to the right. Better to use junk items than my own mana reserves. He thought, before his glowing amber gaze focused on the frog. "But know that alchemy tends to emulate what is sacrificed." Dylirius noted with a scholarly tone. "Therefore, for your own sake, if you want something good. You need to give me something good." Dylirius clarified, in hopes that Phaid understood that his offers had consequences.</s>	<\|message\|>Vinashy He draws a long, bright red sword, the light shifting and wavering around it. "No idea, but if it attacks, then it dies." He spins the strange blade, motes of red light, like drops of blood dripping off the edge. "So many dead.......it seems unreal. How did such a small group cause so much death? How powerful were these adventurers?" He frowns, kneeling beside another corpse, and feeling it. "Still warm. He must have died recently."</s>
<\|description\|>Yvaine Arioch Alias/Nicknames: Her? Race: Dark Elf (Darkvison) Gender: ♀ Background: The twelfth daughter of a Dark Elf noblewoman and considered a thoroughly useless child by her mother and siblings. However, several assassination attempts by her siblings have proven that she has an uncanny ability to survive life threatening situations and, seeking to turn this into prestige for her family, pressured the girl into signing up for Cry Wolf dungeon defense corp. The Cry Wolves are part of a deal struck with the dungeon boss, where Dark Elven soldiers would be provided to guard the dungeon in a show of cooperation between the Everdark and the Dark Elf settlement. Unofficially, it was where you sent the kids you didn't need to earn the house some glory and then hopefully die to a band of adventurers. Yvain, unfortunately, beat the odds again when she was knocked unconscious during this latest and most successful of invasions. When she awoke she found herself to be the only Cry Wolf left alive. She is obliged, then, to remain at her post in the Evardark and maintain a Dark Elven presence in the dungeon until some fresh young recruits could be sent to reinforce her, which her mother has assured her are coming "soon" and that they are "definitely working on it." Personality: "By the book," is the way that Yvain leads her life, though that's mostly a crutch. So long as she follows the rules to the letter people might not cotton on to her not having any real idea what she's doing. She fluctuates between trying to put on a good face and maintaining the quiet dignity expected of an elf and jumping at shadows due to the paranoia beaten into her by her siblings attempts on her life. Appearance: Skills: * Combat Skill: Weapon Focus: Scimitar * Non-Combat Skill: Trap Making - In addition to their guard duties the Cry Wolves where also expected to create and maintain the traps in their area of the dungeon. Possessions: Standard Issue Scimitar, Standard Issue Bullwhip, Standard Issue Armor, Standard Issue Bola (3)</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Lower Levels Dor as Zarroy, @Birdboy as Scri'erk, @SleepingSilence as Dylirius, @Moon Man as the Spore that Speaks and @Gentlemanvaultboy as Yvaine Below the uppermost level of the dungeon are cavernous tunnels leading in all directions, full of bioluminescent fungi and other fauna ripe for harvesting, but to those carelessly wandering it would be easy to miss the silvery outline of webbing near one of the tunnels leading down a level that of the webs made by Scri'erk as she lay in wait for her next meal. It seemed lately her meals were mostly the blood of dark elves, not that it wasn't a bad thing of course as at the moment the arachnid was well-fed. Wandering amongst the fungi was the catlike demon Dylirius, picking a choice mushroom cap here and there unbeknownst to the presence of another, the Spore that Speaks silently tended to the patches of glowing fungus sprouting from the decaying remains of an elf likely another dark elf but it didn't concern it at the very least. Heavy footsteps shook the caves as a lumbering construct stomped down one of the tunnels, and unfortunately right through a web completely ruining the strands of webbing and sending vibrations to the spider that weaved it. Patrolling the area far more carefully than her brethern had Yvaine the dark elf navigated the winding network of passages with ease before coming upon the remains of a recent camp, unmistakably that of her kind. She was sure her people were up to something, but what?</s> <\|message\|>Zarroy (Pronounced Zarr oi) Zarroy was unsure of how long he has been traveling down the tunnels. Sometimes he could walk with great posture other times he had to crawl and pull himself through the openings. He had been given a task by one of the older and wiser denizens to go look for more survivors in a section of Everdark that was further back into the cave network. Zarroy was holding a young goblin that fit fairly well into the palm of his hand. The goblins childish face peeked out into the darkness. "Are you sure this is the right way?" Zarroy was silent for a moment as the single flaming orb in his eye moved from darkness to more darkness, before he started to continue forward. The goblin glanced up at the golem who merely nodded his head. Zarroy knew these tunnels well. After a few more minutes of walking in silence the goblin made a pssssssh noise and flailed its arms about wildly. "I wish you wouldn't do that." The goblin groaned at Zarroy as it was in the process of trying to remove the overly sticky webbing from its face and hair once again. This was only like the seventh web Zarroy had casually waltzed through. The golem chuckled slightly creating a grating noise, as its eye glanced down at his companion. If the goblin had been by himself, he would have had to go the long way around multiple times as he wasn't strong enough to get through the webbings. Soon the duo reached there goal. A small ruined gathering of buildings. Most of the communities in Everdark were unnamed or were only referred to by the most popular building amongst them. This little spot was referred to as Slumbering Lantern as the main buildings light sources seemed to invoke drossiness. The buildings were all ruined and for the most part demolished save for its namesake. Zarroy grabbed one of the fallen walls of a smaller building with three of his four arms and pulled the wall back sending it crashing down with a loud noise and the two waited for the dust to settle as they looked into the remains of the house. Zarroy gently set the goblin down as he moved into the house and kneeled down in front of a body. It looked like a empty medieval suit of armor, except it was crushed inward in parts and the helmet was completely caved in. Zarroy scooped the body up into two of his arms as his eye inspected one of his old friends. The golem had heard about death many times and while he didn't fully comprend it, he knew it was an eternal sleep. The little goblin scurried off deeper into the house to see if there was any survivors as Zarroy was processing his emotions.</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk Thin, spindly pedipalps scrapped again the ground around Scri'erk inquisitively probing the areas where her poor vision failed to fill the gaps. Her low hunkered body easily fit into a large gash in the wall where an earth tremor long ago likely split the walls. It hardly mattered to the large bug hiding in her newest trap. A large web she held with her front claws concealed her body and allowed her to use her longer appendages to check her various webs to see if a meal had been caught. She had gone nearly two days now since her last catch. Perhaps she needed to innovate once more. Her train of thought was cut off as around her the earth shook again and again, getting increasingly more intense. Her pedipalps curled in to join the rest of her in fear, she had this happen every couple of weeks or so. All the webs she sprawled out would be ravaged, all because of a foolish denizen of the Everdark. As the tremors reached their crescendo, Scri'erks eyes struggled to watch the bane of her existence bumble on by. As the golem walked by her, Scri'erk scurried after it, eager to give the major pain in her Thorax a piece of her mind. Unfortunately, her low-crawling steps were nothing to the long legs of her adversary and she was struggling to keep up. Only when they stopped in an abandoned house did she reach them. "Broke webs! Traps gone!" Scri'erk rasped. Mimicking language was not something she was great at, but over time she had learned to speak the common tongue of the underdark. Plenty of practice with those stuck in her webs gave her the skill, but it made her throat hoarse to do. "Webs mine! Don't broke!"</s> <\|message\|>Zarroy (Pronounced Zarr oi) Zarroy's rough hand rubbed against the caved in helmet. He really did not understand why the adventurers had to come and make his friends disappear. This suit of armor was a living being that had been a force for justice around Everdark, a friend and stalwart champion to all. His name was Bartholomew and Zarroy could never call him by it often getting lost half way through his name. It made for a funny interaction between the two, but it was one Zarroy would have to place within a memory because it would happen no more. "Broke webs! Traps gone!" Scri'erk rasped. As Zarroy heard a familiar voice in it's familiar tone, he slightly turned his head as his sole fiery eye focused on the large spider. If the onyx golem could smile it would. He stood up and turned to face his friend. "Webs mine! Don't broke!" "Friend Sci.....Srii...Scii....SPIDER!!" Zarroy's voice echoed outward from his face despite the lack of a mouth. He lumbered quickly towards Scri'erk stopping in front of the spider and bending down to be closer to it and tilted his head much like a puppy would and reached his hand out in an effort to pet the spider. "Have you been well?"</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Meanwhile Above... as Hecate, @Shadow Dragon as Vinashy and @Searat as Mortimer Far removed from the patchwork of tunnels below, Everdark stood silent it's halls littered with the remains of the fallen all in various stages of decay. No noise permeated the dark corridors until a slight clickety-clack broke the silence as a lone skeleton wandered the lonely expanse of a narrow passageway intersecting in a forked path leading towards the crypts and the old goblin territory, a faint mournful cry drifted from one of the barren crypts that of a womans voice. Deep in the long abandoned goblin territory stalked a handsome looking man with pale skin yet his fair looks were marred by the red hungry looking eyes he had darting around the dirty room once occupied by goblinoids, his keen vision spotting a rodent scurrying across the floor.</s> <\|message\|>Hecate Hecate floated gently through the crypts. The decaying bodies of her friends filled her with sorrow and she let out another cry. She sighed and moved on, right through a wall. As she emerged on the other side, she saw a man she wanted to avoid at all costs. She had seen him performing rituals before, and magic terrified her. She turned around and went the opposite way, hoping that she wasn't spotted. Before long, she ran into a skeleton rattling through the halls. "Oh. Hello there." Her voice was quiet and soft, almost difficult to hear. She ascended a little to be out of reach of any attacks, she had been attacked a few times by strangers, though it wasn't too often. A wraith could never be too careful. "I'm not sure we've ever met. My name is Hecate." Her soft voice trailed through the near silent halls.</s> <\|message\|>Vinashy Vinashy drops down from a ledge, holding out a hand. His finger crooks, a large rat forcibly yanked over into his awaiting claw like hand. He sinks his fangs into the treat, draining it dry. Then, dropping the limp corpse, he casually seems to glide over the ground towards the wall where he saw that wraith dart over to. His voice is soothing, enticing. "I saw you girl. Come on out. I just want to talk." He licks his lips, feeling his endless thirst for living blood sated for the moment from the most recent wave of 'heroes' to come though the dark tunnels. He holds out one hand, and a glowing symbol forms above his palm, twisting the light to a bright crimson. He smiles, fangs flashing in the ruby glow of his magic.</s>	<\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch Yvain felt her heart sink as the the flame of her torch illuminated the face of another dark elf tangled up in the webbing. She sighed, pulling out a small lost and rubbing out the name Vinten with her thumb.. He had been a funny one, useless and foppish but seemingly happy to be away from the vipers nest of the capital. He had been some minor nobility like her, some fifth son of a third aunt, and would entertain the others at mealtime by playing a flute he had carved from a broken piece of bedframe. She sighed. "How many of you lot ran this way?" She asked nobody. The vast majority of the names on her list were now little more than blackened blobs and she could probably mark her passage through the corridors with thumbprints. Many of them had been the names of men, and not for the first time she insisted to herself that those barely even counted as people. Like all the times before the truism didn't bring her any comfort. She hadn't exactly been close with any of them (that was hard to achieve when you seemed to strike terror into their hearts if you stood up too quickly) but she had consistently found them to be better company than any of her sisters. The silence in the barracks now was deafening enough to send her out into the dungeon itself, a faint hope burning in her breast that some intrepid coward among them had found a hideaway within the twisting corridors of the Everdark. Her list of names attested to the futility of her search. At this point she was convinced that the few still listed were only so because they had been totally devoured by some other denizen of the dungeon. Even now she could hear the voices of likely culprits echoing through the caverns as she marched on. She didn't stop to take Vinten, didn't dare disturb the web. It was as honorable a resting place as any down here. You live by the spider, you die by the spider. As she continued, however, she was startled to find the faces of Delvs she didn't recognize. She followed the trail of bodies to a crude campsite that had clearly been set by her own people. "No way." She said aloud, just to hear a voice, as she started picking through the remnants of the camp. "You actually sent somebody?" She had been sending messages by carrier bat every time she had managed to catch one of the little buggers fluttering back to the shattered remains of a barracks bat coop. She had gotten one reply so far, a vague and rather dismissive message promising to reinforce her position, but if this was her reinforcements than it looked like she was out of luck unless she found some evidence of Delvs that hadn't wound up on the bottom of the dungeons food chain already.</s>
<\|description\|>Yvaine Arioch Alias/Nicknames: Her? Race: Dark Elf (Darkvison) Gender: ♀ Background: The twelfth daughter of a Dark Elf noblewoman and considered a thoroughly useless child by her mother and siblings. However, several assassination attempts by her siblings have proven that she has an uncanny ability to survive life threatening situations and, seeking to turn this into prestige for her family, pressured the girl into signing up for Cry Wolf dungeon defense corp. The Cry Wolves are part of a deal struck with the dungeon boss, where Dark Elven soldiers would be provided to guard the dungeon in a show of cooperation between the Everdark and the Dark Elf settlement. Unofficially, it was where you sent the kids you didn't need to earn the house some glory and then hopefully die to a band of adventurers. Yvain, unfortunately, beat the odds again when she was knocked unconscious during this latest and most successful of invasions. When she awoke she found herself to be the only Cry Wolf left alive. She is obliged, then, to remain at her post in the Evardark and maintain a Dark Elven presence in the dungeon until some fresh young recruits could be sent to reinforce her, which her mother has assured her are coming "soon" and that they are "definitely working on it." Personality: "By the book," is the way that Yvain leads her life, though that's mostly a crutch. So long as she follows the rules to the letter people might not cotton on to her not having any real idea what she's doing. She fluctuates between trying to put on a good face and maintaining the quiet dignity expected of an elf and jumping at shadows due to the paranoia beaten into her by her siblings attempts on her life. Appearance: Skills: * Combat Skill: Weapon Focus: Scimitar * Non-Combat Skill: Trap Making - In addition to their guard duties the Cry Wolves where also expected to create and maintain the traps in their area of the dungeon. Possessions: Standard Issue Scimitar, Standard Issue Bullwhip, Standard Issue Armor, Standard Issue Bola (3)</s> <\|message\|>Hecate Hecate listened to Mortimer's speech, visibly shaken by his sincerity, and by the bravery he and Vinashy were showing. She shook her head with a mournful expression. I do not know what kind of help I could be with fighting adventurers. I am not very strong... Though, rebuilding the Everdark is something I very much would like to do. I have not yet traveled deeper into the dungeon... mayhaps we head that way to search for more survivors...?" She gazed at her brave companions, feeling a little more hopeful than she had just 5 minutes ago.</s> <\|message\|>The Spore that Speaks Interacting with @SleepingSilence The Spore that Speaks was so busy admiring the view that it did not notice the tiny lesser demon approach. How long had it been since a scene like this unfolded before it. Though it may seem like a large mushroom forest to some it was simply an attempt to return things to how they were. The Everdark was a colorful once, the floors and walls which Spore roamed were littered with all types of fauna. Then the invaders came, bringing with them torches and bombs. Everything that Spore had created, its life's work, gone in a bright orange flash. Luckily it was familiar with all the nooks and crannies of the Everdark otherwise it too would have been charred and turned to dust. It was brought back to reality by a familiar voice. Spore normally flinches and immediately releases paralyzing dust the moment it gets startled but it had gotten used to such surprises from this particular fellow. The first few times where, not so pleasant to say the least. Mainly for the lesser demon. Getting paralyzed wasn't such a big deal, it was the fact that Spore was quite sluggish so the continuous release of paralyzing dust as it shuffled away may cause the one affected to be incapacitated for nearly an hour or two. It slowly turned around to face its visitor. Shaking the large cap on its head, a fine silvery dust began to spread. "Hello…Dylirius…" It said, communicating slowly through the thousands of minuscule spores that it spread. A chorus of sounds all coming together to form a single, baritone voice. "Thank…you…" It reached down on the barren spot where the lesser demon buried a pawful of stalks. Curling its fingers, the arm slowly rose up and a larger number of mushrooms sprouted. A loud growl echoed through the halls where Dylirius had come from causing Spore to jump in shock. "What… was… that…?" It asked its furry friend. Its small, pinlike pupils trembling in fear. It suddenly moved and grabbed a handful of yellow, string shaped mushrooms and handed it to the lesser demon. They were called Sun Wisps, because of the color and the shape of it looked like the radiating flames of the sun. A natural antidote to the paralyzing dust that Spore releases. "I'll… go… hide… Give me… signal…" It said before closing its eyes and leaning against a wall, now perfectly camouflaged with the rest of the room.</s> <\|message\|>Dylirius Interacting with: @Moon Man Dylirius' lack of caution and friendliness was apparent from the moment when he had first introduced himself to Spore. Since this otherwise-immobilized demon had managed to carry on a conversation, with the help of a herb stem tip, dripping an anti-paralysis substance inside of his maw. But surely the Myconid must've wondered; 'if the cat was already prepared for this to happen. He shouldn't have come so close, or had something stronger ready to ingest.' Yet Dylirius sounded so happy to be experiencing 'such a potent numbness spreading across his entire body'. In his own words. Before proceeding to speak intimately about his alchemy and altruistic goals until - and long after - he was freed from the paralyzing spores. Only remembering to share his name at the very end of their encounter. With a visual change that occurred every subsequent visit—disguising the natural candlelight glow of his eyes. Realizing that his flickering gaze might've resembled those intruders' torches, or their accursed light spells. Because better not to be reminded of one's tragic past, yes? So it was no surprise to see him standing nearby, without any apprehension. Admiring his friend's green thumb, as the tiny airborne particles began to dance around them. "Oh. It's a great privilege to watch you work." Dylirius noted spiritedly. With his paw soon fidgeting with the leather straps of his triangular crystal necklace. So realistic in its swaying movements, and even how it felt to touch, that it was too easy to forget that all of it was a part of his artificial ensemble. Quick to clear his throat and tone down the zeal in his voice. "Ahem. I mean. You make it look so simple-" He asserted. Not able to finish his calmer comment, before his stomach provided a swift rebuttal. Prompting the lesser demon to raise his paws up, once he was handed the stringy mushrooms. "Oh my deepest apologies, but you misunderstand." Dylirus appealed, while putting his paws back onto his belly. "There's no reason to fear my stomach's rumblings." He assured his camouflaged companion. "It's just one of my test-stage brews happened to vastly increase my appetite." Dylirus elaborated with an averted gaze, and his paw rubbing underneath his chin in deliberation. Perhaps more so than I originally intended… He thought, with a feeling of something being on the tip of his tongue. As Dylirius abruptly turned to face the tunnel that led closer to the giant spider's lair. "But I don't wish to startle you further. So I will go elsewhere and let my innards settle." He declared, before taking several steps away from The Spore that Speaks. Being considerate enough to look back and make sure that he didn't leave the Myconid paralyzed with fear. "Unless—there's any kind of problem or ailment that you need my assistance with?" Dylirius offered, in a less-than-subtle manner. Seeming hopeful as ever, that everyone was always in need of something.</s> <\|message\|>Everdark and @Dark Light Vrel's eyes barely focused on whomever was speaking to him "Attacked...By one of our...Own," the dark elves breathing was getting ragged and the red spot on his chest was growing "Killed the entire...Scouting party...In their sleep," with the strength he had Vrel pointed to his fallen weapon on the bloody cave floor. "Take my sword...kill that bastard..." voice trailing Vrel breathed his last, finally death took him and he felt no more pain nor suffering. All that remained lifelike was the dancing flame in the lamp and the strange sword lying upon the rough stone cave floor.</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk Dor When the goblin appeared a frothing drool pooled around Scri'erk's mandibles. She struggled to listen to the words the goblin spoke over her hunger. She had not seen a good meal in days. As the small, green humanoid's words fully processed in her head, she gave a vaguely nod-like motion in acknowledgment. His food would likely not be her style, she preferred a fresh meal. Still, if they had been sent by Isatar, this could very well be important. Her attention turned to the golem's 'craftsmanship'. He had turned her webs into a tragic disgrace to all craftarachnidship. In a stern motion she shot out a web that replaced it, looking for more sturdy, may be capable of capturing a drow! "Stop broking webs! Then I helps! Scri'erk helps Survivors. No eat!" She graciously offered, still keen on getting the Golem to finally understand. He was beyond thick-skulled, and she wondered if there was any brain under all that stone. Likely not.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch "Scouting party? You weren't my reinforcements? Hey! No, no, no." Yvain leaned forward and shook the male by his collar and shook his limp body, but it wasn't of any use. He was gone. She pulled back and scooted out of his pooling blood. The only civilized voice she had heard since the battle and now it was silent forever, unless one of those dammed necromancers had made it through unscathed but she was sure this place would already be flooded with zombies were that the case. Just one more dead dark elf. She didn't even know this ones name. She sighed, rubbing her head, and took a look at that sword he had been so insistent about in his final moments. To her surprise she found it looking back. She jumped to her feet, slapping her hands over her mouth to keep her yelp from alerting any vicious murderers that happened to be lurking in these tunnels. She held her pose and had a staring contest with the sword. It blinked first. She didn't think it knew they had been playing a game, but she was more confident now that she had beaten it. Slowly, carefully, she reached down and laid her hand lightly on the blade. No burning. No immediate possession. She hadn't switched alignments, she didn't think. She picked up the sword, a genuinely magic sword. She had never held one anymore. Who was this guy that had been cut down in the dark that he would have a honest to gods magical sword? "Then again, it's not like it did him much good." She said, without even realizing she was speaking. She examined it, trying to find some sort of button or magic word carved somewhere that could activate it. "Maybe all it does is look at stuff?" Light</s> <\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "A good artisan... Never blames. Hisss... Sworrrd." A low whispered voice echoes in the drows head. The words long and drawn out, holding an almost defensive tone. The sword, although short felt heavier than it appeared and the eye, while possessing no eyebrow or muscles around it, somehow still gave a judgemental condescending glare. Or was it just in her head? "So, you think you can do better than... he did?" The sword hesitated, seemingly already forgetting its previous owners name or simply deeming him to unimportant to mention. Then it continued, its soft slow whisper absent of any commitment or vigor. "Please go ahead, find vengeance, slay the wrong doer... Use me as a tool to deliver death. As was his dying wish. That is only if you know how to do more than just stare at me? Or maybe all this one does is talk?" The eye continued to stare, blinking twice in succession but then not again. Simply becoming unable to.</s>	<\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch Oh crap, she had offended it. More worrying was that the sword could be offended, and could share that information with her. She almost dropped it right then and there, letting it clatter to the floor and leaving it stranded in the dark until someone else stumbled along and found it. Something about it, thought, instead made her grip on the hilt tighten. Something incredibly familiar. "I certainly can't do any worse than he did." She replied, trying to summon up some of that imperiousness that came so naturally to every other member of her family. She was sheriff around these parts now, if only because she had discovered her commanders brutally decapitated corpse. If there was a threat to the dungeon that was still her responsibility. She glanced at the yawning mouth of the tunnel the other dark elf had disappeared into and gulped. "Right, lets go get this creep!" She said, pointing her new sword in its direction. She marched forward, discarding her torch and picking up the lantern along the way as she followed after him. Of course the branching paths of the Everdark were intentionally twisted and confusing. There was no guarantee that she would find her quarry. It was more likely that he was going to get lost, eaten by some desperate dungeon denizen, or starve to death walking in circles. There was no telling where they would be spit out. "So," she started as she walked, making conversation just for the sake of hearing another voice. "Do you know why these guys are here? Was that guy always your master or did you get picked up along the way?" Light</s>
<\|description\|>Yvaine Arioch Alias/Nicknames: Her? Race: Dark Elf (Darkvison) Gender: ♀ Background: The twelfth daughter of a Dark Elf noblewoman and considered a thoroughly useless child by her mother and siblings. However, several assassination attempts by her siblings have proven that she has an uncanny ability to survive life threatening situations and, seeking to turn this into prestige for her family, pressured the girl into signing up for Cry Wolf dungeon defense corp. The Cry Wolves are part of a deal struck with the dungeon boss, where Dark Elven soldiers would be provided to guard the dungeon in a show of cooperation between the Everdark and the Dark Elf settlement. Unofficially, it was where you sent the kids you didn't need to earn the house some glory and then hopefully die to a band of adventurers. Yvain, unfortunately, beat the odds again when she was knocked unconscious during this latest and most successful of invasions. When she awoke she found herself to be the only Cry Wolf left alive. She is obliged, then, to remain at her post in the Evardark and maintain a Dark Elven presence in the dungeon until some fresh young recruits could be sent to reinforce her, which her mother has assured her are coming "soon" and that they are "definitely working on it." Personality: "By the book," is the way that Yvain leads her life, though that's mostly a crutch. So long as she follows the rules to the letter people might not cotton on to her not having any real idea what she's doing. She fluctuates between trying to put on a good face and maintaining the quiet dignity expected of an elf and jumping at shadows due to the paranoia beaten into her by her siblings attempts on her life. Appearance: Skills: * Combat Skill: Weapon Focus: Scimitar * Non-Combat Skill: Trap Making - In addition to their guard duties the Cry Wolves where also expected to create and maintain the traps in their area of the dungeon. Possessions: Standard Issue Scimitar, Standard Issue Bullwhip, Standard Issue Armor, Standard Issue Bola (3)</s> <\|message\|>Dylirius Interacting With: @Martian Dylirius found himself in a difficult situation. When he heard the Spore's warning and didn't have the chance to prevent an inevitable cloud of paralysis from enveloping his potential customer. Giving the lesser demon seconds to decide, if he wanted to get stuck alongside the soon-to-be cranky toad, or rush off to safety and leave the Bullywug to his fate. So that way he'd be able to come back and offer his assistance. Having the benefit of helping the warrior out of a dilemma—assuming he wasn't too stubborn or angry to accept it. On the other hand, if the Bullywug saw Dylirius fleeing the scene alone, and didn't realize the myconid created these stunning spores in the first place… Oh dear—I wish you wouldn't have done that. Dylirius thought, before softly exhaling and opening his extended paw that was meant for a handshake. With enough quickness to focus on a particular herb stem, thinking about its rough feel and light green color, plus any extra details that he needed in order to perfect its creation. Thankfully, it was easier for Dylirius to use his herbal alchemy on things that he had grown familiar with. Yet another reason that he had put so many things inside of his mouth. And I just replenished my mana earlier. Dylirius lamented, as his claw tips began to shimmer with a crimson red light. "Here stranger. Stick this in your mouth, and suck the juice out of its stem." The cat insisted, while quickly inserting one of two long green leafy stems inside of his maw. Which somehow spawned inside his no-longer-glowing paw, right before the Bullywug's eyes. Holding out the other one for the Bullywug to take, just as the large area got completely covered. Able to bite down onto the stem tip and taste its bitter slime that soon coated his whole tongue. "That'll let you speak and breathe without any trouble, as long as you keep it in there." Dylirius elaborated, while still grinding the stem in-between his teeth. Though unless Phaid had already done what was said, and hadn't tried to escape the burst of fog on his own. The toad could've had a bigger problem, than being unable to move for a few hours. Since it turns out that breathing in a haze of toxic spores—wasn't the best thing for one's lungs. Who knew?</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Searching Crypts @RogueFox @Shadow Dragon In the dusty corpse ridden halls of Everdark's upper half, the trio would find no living survivors other than rodents and other vermin picking corpses clean of their flesh. Vinashy was unfortunately the only one with olfactory senses so the smell of pustulant rotting flesh assailed his nostrils, but it was nothing the blood ritualist couldn't handle. Some bits and pieces of broken weapons littered the floors nearby the bodies, some had the irreparable vestige of armor clinging to their remains. But between the buzzing of flies suddenly came the sound of brisk and rapidly recedeing footsteps, whoever it was they were in a hurry to get away. It sounded like whoever or whatever the footfalls belonged to were anxious to flee to the deeper portion of the dungeon.</s> <\|message\|>Mortimer Costello Interacting with: @RogueFox@Shadow Dragon "More of the same..." Mortimer says as they wandered deeper into the dungeon's halls. He'd note that he should bury their dead after they establish a base of sorts. Just felt wrong to just leave them there rotting with the bodies of those horrid adventurers. But what caught his full attention was the sound of footfalls that weren't his nor the vampire's echoing through the halls as it grew fainter and fainter as the being that caused it went deeper into the dungeon. Mortimer called out but it seemed that he reacted too late. The sound of footsteps had gone so distant that he couldn't hear them any longer. "I'm sure that I wasn't the only one who heard that. We ought to follow them...but keep your guards up. We don't know if they're hostile or not." He was feeling a little more confident than when he was all alone but confidence would nary hinder an attacker's blade. Better to be prepared for the worst rather than getting caught with your metaphorical pants down.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch So they were getting close. Yaaaaay. She wished she had some general idea of how strong the man they were pursuing actually was. Well, actually, she did: strong enough that he killed a whole scout force by himself. She could only hope he had done that through subterfuge and surprise, because if he hadn't she was just going to have to rely on getting the drop on him or getting lucky. It was a good thing, then, that she was "blessed" with an inordinate supply of good luck. To take her mind off that she focused on the question...sword, she guessed... had asked her. "Opera isn't a place, it's a performance. Entertainment. Like a play, but every word is sung. And it's sung in old Elvish, so most of us younger delves have to read the plot in a book before it starts. It was pretty, but it wasn't her thing. Mostly old legends about war and romance, betrayal and revenge. A whole lot of betrayal and revenge. "There was Mourning Lily. It was stabbed into the heart of a Matriarch and froze her in magic sleep, so her favorite concubine had to go on and arduous quest to find a way to break the spell. I'm pretty sure that one was just an allegory. Most of them are. Tusk was this wicked sword wielded by the queen of the hobgoblins that inflicted wounds that never stopped hurting. Crownseeker was an sword that was used so many times in coups and assassinations that it developed a taste for noble blood. Durenadal was used by the king of the High Elves during the great war thousands of years ago, some unbreakable hold sword that could never be defeated, but the first Queen managed to seduce the king and steal it. That one I think is real. I heard it was locked up in the palace vault somewhere." Light</s> <\|message\|>Phaid Phaid the Bullywug kept his slow pace as he approached the furry medicine man and the mushroom man. After the events of a few weeks ago, Phaid and all the remaining Bullywugs had learned to avoid anyone they didn't know. But Phaid considered himself a brave creature, at least for a Bullywug. He was still embarrassed over his actions during the massacre that happened in the Everdark a few weeks back. When Phaid and some fellow Bullywugs first got wind of the slaughter, their fight or flight instinct kicked in. They decided on flight, retreating to the deep water tunnels of their domain. The frog-men would hide in this submerged section of the dungeon for several days, praying that whatever was killing the other creatures wasn't amphibious. It had been a low point for Phaid, the so called Puddle Knight. When the hidden Bullywugs did finally return to the surface of the dungeon, they found most of their kin slain, just a few feet away from the water's edge. Since then, the Bullywugs had stayed close to their watery home. They had not wanted to go and see how the other races were affected by the slaughtered, worried minds wondering if the goblin clan survived and would once again attack them. Or what happened to the Dark Elves, Undead, or other powerful beings who ran large portions of the Everdark. But as Phaid approached the two creatures, he wondered if the massacre hadn't been as bad if these ones survived it. But Phaid didn't appear to be the only antsy away, leaving a fog of yellow spores. Phaid thought that he was more imposing than he thought, only for a spore to touch his nose, causing it to go numb. But before any more of the spores could reach Phaid, the furry medicine man handed him some sort of vegetable, telling him to suck out its innards. Phaid wondered if this was a free first taste, so he did as instructed, a slime leaving the plant and coating his throat. As he did this, Phaid no longer felt the numbness as the spores landed on him. The medicine man then told him to keep the plant in his mouth if he wished to breathe and speak. Phaid quickly realized that this wasn't a free first hit, but rather to do away with what the mushroom man had done. He figured that the bitter tasting slime should of been a giveaway. Phaid naturally moved the plant around in his mouth, always keeping it secreting. "Thanks for whatever this is," said Phaid with some trouble as he tried to keep the plant firmly in his mouth, "But do you have any of those spotted flowers, the ones that can take you to the dream plane? I have trinkets to trade for it." What Phaid didn't mention was that these trinkets had been looted from the bodies of fellow Bullywugs. After so many died in the massacre, they could at least continue to benefit the clan. And by that Phaid meant benefit himself, the definite next head of the clan, especially since most of the competition had died. [Interacting with: @SleepingSilence]</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk Dor Scri'erk could be ornery but she had the ability to listen to reason. She had heard rumors that the golem's mind had been addled. Worse yet, looking at it's heaping size she could not deny that perhaps it would be hard for someone of their stature to move out of the way of her webs. That was the point really, to get people to touch them. Putting her grudges aside she let reason win this time. The tasty goblin seemed to interject before Scri'erk could find a reason to be mad again. They were hoping to go deeper into the everdark; a dangerous proposition. Luckily between Scri'erk's deadly poison's and Zarroy's strength they had nothing to be afraid of. "Danger! Goblin ride on Zarroy" She said as she took the lead, prodding into the dark abyss before them with her mandibles. In other circumstances she would allow the small humanoid to ride her own carapaced back. With Zarroy with them, however, she felt the morsel would be much safer away from her own greedy mandibles. Already she could feel them frothing again in hunger. Perhaps there would be a meal for her in the next town.</s> <\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "Hmm" Was all the sword said, short and sharp. Amused even. For a moment it seemed like it was going to speak again, to share its thoughts, but it didn't. After a small walk in silence where the sword replied to nothing, it suddenly and urgently blurted. "Stop!" Then, ignoring the urgency of its past words it casually continued. "Tell me of this crown seeker, what did it look like?"</s>	<\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch Yvain froze like mid step, like a cat that had been caught sneaking up on someone and wasn't sure whether it should charge forward or retreat. They had come to a hallway of dilapidated stonework, crude barricades of piled stone constructed at either end that menaced with large wooden spikes where the ravages of time hadn't caused them to rot away or snap under their own weight. A tattered banner lay draped over one of them, a brown skull cackling at her. Beyond the barricade, through a small gap that gave entry, she could see moldering tarps piled on the ground that may have once been tents. Enough for two dozen men at least. Among they lay scattered bones and old brown stains. An orcish warband, maybe? She had heard they painted their banners in the blood of their foes. Who were they? The Everdark was old, and it was witness to more deaths than even her ancient mother. They could have been an enemy raid, or mercenaries hired by the dungeons master? Had they been killed by adventurers, like the others, or the residents? They could have even been the victims of an inter-faction spat within the Everdark itself, as sometimes happened. Who could say? Her minecart of thought was derailed as Sword asked her another question. In the opera. It was big, with a long silver blade and an ornate black hilt set with rubies. It was beautiful. She thought back to a few of the assassins that had been sent by her sisters. I never thought it looked right. It was too big. It took an age to swing, you would see it coming from a mile away. If a sword like that really exited I always thought it would be more subtle. Old. And really, really sharp. Light</s>
<\|description\|>The Spore that Speaks Alias/Nickname: Swamp grass, salad, Spore, Shroom Race: Myconid (Telekinesis through spores, vulnerable to fire, advantageous with wind as it spreads spores) Gender: None Background: No one really knows how The Spore that Speaks came to be. Some theorized that a gap in the dungeon walls caused fresh air to carry pollen which was given life by some mysterious powers. Others say that it was a druid's spell gone wrong. The real reason though was more grounded. The Spore that Speaks was born out of necessity. There were a large amount of rotting bodies that once littered the dungeon. They were created to clean the mess and where corpses once stood now held colonies of fungi. Personality: The Spore that Speaks is quite a timid creature, preferring to hide and run rather than fight. This is why most of their abilities are ones that incapacitate not kill. They leave the dirty work to the other creatures that prowl the dungeon's halls and take care of what's left Appearance: Skills: Combat skill: Paralyzing dust (They release golden clouds of dust that, upon inhalation, cause paralysis within a minute. The effect refreshes for as long as the target remains in the cloud) Non-combat skill: Gardening Possessions: A long withered staff overgrown with mushrooms that doubles as a walking stick and weapon.</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk Thin, spindly pedipalps scrapped again the ground around Scri'erk inquisitively probing the areas where her poor vision failed to fill the gaps. Her low hunkered body easily fit into a large gash in the wall where an earth tremor long ago likely split the walls. It hardly mattered to the large bug hiding in her newest trap. A large web she held with her front claws concealed her body and allowed her to use her longer appendages to check her various webs to see if a meal had been caught. She had gone nearly two days now since her last catch. Perhaps she needed to innovate once more. Her train of thought was cut off as around her the earth shook again and again, getting increasingly more intense. Her pedipalps curled in to join the rest of her in fear, she had this happen every couple of weeks or so. All the webs she sprawled out would be ravaged, all because of a foolish denizen of the Everdark. As the tremors reached their crescendo, Scri'erks eyes struggled to watch the bane of her existence bumble on by. As the golem walked by her, Scri'erk scurried after it, eager to give the major pain in her Thorax a piece of her mind. Unfortunately, her low-crawling steps were nothing to the long legs of her adversary and she was struggling to keep up. Only when they stopped in an abandoned house did she reach them. "Broke webs! Traps gone!" Scri'erk rasped. Mimicking language was not something she was great at, but over time she had learned to speak the common tongue of the underdark. Plenty of practice with those stuck in her webs gave her the skill, but it made her throat hoarse to do. "Webs mine! Don't broke!"</s> <\|message\|>Zarroy (Pronounced Zarr oi) Zarroy's rough hand rubbed against the caved in helmet. He really did not understand why the adventurers had to come and make his friends disappear. This suit of armor was a living being that had been a force for justice around Everdark, a friend and stalwart champion to all. His name was Bartholomew and Zarroy could never call him by it often getting lost half way through his name. It made for a funny interaction between the two, but it was one Zarroy would have to place within a memory because it would happen no more. "Broke webs! Traps gone!" Scri'erk rasped. As Zarroy heard a familiar voice in it's familiar tone, he slightly turned his head as his sole fiery eye focused on the large spider. If the onyx golem could smile it would. He stood up and turned to face his friend. "Webs mine! Don't broke!" "Friend Sci.....Srii...Scii....SPIDER!!" Zarroy's voice echoed outward from his face despite the lack of a mouth. He lumbered quickly towards Scri'erk stopping in front of the spider and bending down to be closer to it and tilted his head much like a puppy would and reached his hand out in an effort to pet the spider. "Have you been well?"</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Meanwhile Above... as Hecate, @Shadow Dragon as Vinashy and @Searat as Mortimer Far removed from the patchwork of tunnels below, Everdark stood silent it's halls littered with the remains of the fallen all in various stages of decay. No noise permeated the dark corridors until a slight clickety-clack broke the silence as a lone skeleton wandered the lonely expanse of a narrow passageway intersecting in a forked path leading towards the crypts and the old goblin territory, a faint mournful cry drifted from one of the barren crypts that of a womans voice. Deep in the long abandoned goblin territory stalked a handsome looking man with pale skin yet his fair looks were marred by the red hungry looking eyes he had darting around the dirty room once occupied by goblinoids, his keen vision spotting a rodent scurrying across the floor.</s> <\|message\|>Hecate Hecate floated gently through the crypts. The decaying bodies of her friends filled her with sorrow and she let out another cry. She sighed and moved on, right through a wall. As she emerged on the other side, she saw a man she wanted to avoid at all costs. She had seen him performing rituals before, and magic terrified her. She turned around and went the opposite way, hoping that she wasn't spotted. Before long, she ran into a skeleton rattling through the halls. "Oh. Hello there." Her voice was quiet and soft, almost difficult to hear. She ascended a little to be out of reach of any attacks, she had been attacked a few times by strangers, though it wasn't too often. A wraith could never be too careful. "I'm not sure we've ever met. My name is Hecate." Her soft voice trailed through the near silent halls.</s> <\|message\|>Vinashy Vinashy drops down from a ledge, holding out a hand. His finger crooks, a large rat forcibly yanked over into his awaiting claw like hand. He sinks his fangs into the treat, draining it dry. Then, dropping the limp corpse, he casually seems to glide over the ground towards the wall where he saw that wraith dart over to. His voice is soothing, enticing. "I saw you girl. Come on out. I just want to talk." He licks his lips, feeling his endless thirst for living blood sated for the moment from the most recent wave of 'heroes' to come though the dark tunnels. He holds out one hand, and a glowing symbol forms above his palm, twisting the light to a bright crimson. He smiles, fangs flashing in the ruby glow of his magic.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch Yvain felt her heart sink as the the flame of her torch illuminated the face of another dark elf tangled up in the webbing. She sighed, pulling out a small lost and rubbing out the name Vinten with her thumb.. He had been a funny one, useless and foppish but seemingly happy to be away from the vipers nest of the capital. He had been some minor nobility like her, some fifth son of a third aunt, and would entertain the others at mealtime by playing a flute he had carved from a broken piece of bedframe. She sighed. "How many of you lot ran this way?" She asked nobody. The vast majority of the names on her list were now little more than blackened blobs and she could probably mark her passage through the corridors with thumbprints. Many of them had been the names of men, and not for the first time she insisted to herself that those barely even counted as people. Like all the times before the truism didn't bring her any comfort. She hadn't exactly been close with any of them (that was hard to achieve when you seemed to strike terror into their hearts if you stood up too quickly) but she had consistently found them to be better company than any of her sisters. The silence in the barracks now was deafening enough to send her out into the dungeon itself, a faint hope burning in her breast that some intrepid coward among them had found a hideaway within the twisting corridors of the Everdark. Her list of names attested to the futility of her search. At this point she was convinced that the few still listed were only so because they had been totally devoured by some other denizen of the dungeon. Even now she could hear the voices of likely culprits echoing through the caverns as she marched on. She didn't stop to take Vinten, didn't dare disturb the web. It was as honorable a resting place as any down here. You live by the spider, you die by the spider. As she continued, however, she was startled to find the faces of Delvs she didn't recognize. She followed the trail of bodies to a crude campsite that had clearly been set by her own people. "No way." She said aloud, just to hear a voice, as she started picking through the remnants of the camp. "You actually sent somebody?" She had been sending messages by carrier bat every time she had managed to catch one of the little buggers fluttering back to the shattered remains of a barracks bat coop. She had gotten one reply so far, a vague and rather dismissive message promising to reinforce her position, but if this was her reinforcements than it looked like she was out of luck unless she found some evidence of Delvs that hadn't wound up on the bottom of the dungeons food chain already.</s> <\|message\|>Mortimer Costello Interacting with: @RogueFox@Shadow Dragon It had been nearly three hours since he'd returned to the realm of the unliving and wandering the halls of the dungeon he called home. Not once did he find any of his neighbors and acquaintances alive. He'd nearly given up hope. Ready to storm out of the Everdark and hunt down those heartless adventurers that caused this calamity. Had he a face it would have bore a look of shock as he heard a faint mournful cry. A survivor perhaps? The clickity-clackity of his boney feet hitting the cold stonework of the dungeon echoed through the uncomfortably quiet halls of the Everdark and, lo and behold, a survivor of the massacre! If the gods didn't hate his metaphorical guts for existing, he'd thank them. "N-no. I don't think we have." He answered back. His voice purposefully smooth and gentle to avoid scaring off the first living monster he'd encountered. "My name is Mortimer Costello. I would have liked our initial interaction be under better circumstances but I'm just glad to see another of us still alive." Just as he was about to suggest that they keep looking for more survivors, a vampire made himself known and summons forth a ball of light that illuminates his form and casts a dim light upon himself and the female spirit. "More survivors! Maybe this dungeon isn't done for." Mort said while clapping his hands together making an audible clack. "Greetings of peace, master vampire. My name is Mortimer and this is my new friend Hecate. We are currently the only surviving monsters of this dungeon...well as far as I know at least. Would you like to accompany us? Safety in numbers and whatnot." The infested skeleton punctuated by extending his hand forward in a friendly and non-combative manner.</s>	<\|message\|>The Spore that Speaks In one of the larger caverns deep in the dungeon, a small ray of sunlight shone through the cracks. The beam hitting the wounded chest of an unmoving body. The room was bloody and littered with corpses of both dungeon dwellers and the invaders alike. The latter starting the conflict without care for those who roamed this place while the former fought to protect their homes. Shuffle, shuffle. Tap. Shuffle, shuffle. Tap. Like a beat, the sound rhythmically echoed throughout the chamber. Out of the gloom, a hunched creature slowly made its way forward. Its tiny dot like eyes, darted around taking in the scene before it. Despite the obvious lack of expression, it was quite happy. There were so many bodies all in one area. A perfect place to spread its spores. It stopped just before the ray of sunlight in the center of the room. It was ready. The Spore that Speaks shook its large carp releasing a multitude of fine dust that were in many different shades of colour. The dust spread throughout the room and when it landed on organic matter, different types of fungi sprouted. Big, small, long, short, angular, round, they all grew from the many bodies in the room aiding in the decomposition process. The center was it was the most crowded. The ray of sunlight providing that extra bit of sustenance which caused a bouquet of mushrooms to sprout from the body's chest. The cavern which was once covered in blood and corpses was now teeming with life. It had turned into a forest of reds and greens and purples and many more. The Spore that Speaks let go of its stick and brought its two hands together and slowly clapped as it look at its own handiwork.</s>
<\|description\|>(Yet unnamed) Alias/Nicknames: Race: An amorphic living blade. Talks telepathically to its wielder. Has an eye but its keen senses extend beyond physicality. Gender: ♂ tone Background: Long long ago a powerful warrior's soul entwined with his magical blade instead of passing over to the unknown. Eons passed, or maybe not, while the lost soul learned to harness the power of the blade and his own. Personality: Talkative for an object, curious, bossy on occasion. It has a short attention span. Skills: Combat Skill: Combat foresight The blade, if well connected to its wielder, can offer foresight and insight during battle. A mix of magic, keen senses and eons of experience. Non-Combat Skill: Can alter its shape within limitations Possessions: 3 grand gems in his hilt.</s> <\|message\|>Vinashy Interacting with:@Searat@RogueFox "Interesting. This sounds like the start of a bad joke. 'A wraith, a skeleton and a vampire walk into a cave'. Still, I'm surprised that there are others still around down here. I would say we survived, but all three of us are already dead." He shakes the skeletons hand. "As for being a master vampire, you'd have to go to another land to find one of those old bloodsuckers. They have power like you've never seen. In terms of age, I'm fairly young for a nosferatu. Only a bloodmage I'm afraid." He looks at the wraith. "Why so scared? My magics can't effect a ghost."</s> <\|message\|>Dylirius Interacting with: @Moon Man The gentle pitter-patter of Dylirius' footsteps echoed across this spacious tunnel. Not sounding too unusual for those in earshot, used to hearing his energetic pace. Yet the urgency in his dilated pupils would tell a very different tale⁠. As his two lengthy tails kept sweeping away the trail of paw prints that were left behind in the dirty stone. Being delicate enough in his actions, not to disturb the giant spider's webbing, or trigger any of the Everdark's numerous traps. But still unable to outrun an intense growling noise that followed him through the darkness and into the light ahead. With but a single persistent thought in his anxious mind. "I-I can't—I can't let anyone see me like this..." Dylirius uttered to himself. With the bright amber glow of his irises adjusting to all the blues, purples, and greens that illuminated the entire space. From floor, to walls, to the plantlife hanging from the cavern's ceiling. It was a sight that brought an immediate smile to the lesser demon's face. Quick to leap forward through the air like a cat, over a field of glowing flora, and plant his hind paws onto the vibrant red caps of one of the many 'mushroom trees'. Using their unique springy texture to nimbly bounce from fungus to fungus, several times more, until he was mere feet away from The Spore that Speaks. "Impressive as always, Dylirius." He congratulated himself in a confident whisper, upon his feet silently gracing the ground. Casually brushing off his robe's oversized sleeves and leaf-like hat, to keep his forest-colors dust free. "You made it here, and without a single witness." Dylirius asserted in hushed volume, with his back facing the myconid. Slowly inhaling the distinguished nutty odors through his twitching nose, focused on all these little spotted fungi, that were bunched up just beneath his stance. Both paws attempting to quell the hellish rumblings erupting from the pit of his stomach. "Patience please." Dylirius urged, before reaching back to take the satchel off his backside. "Even when ravished with insatiable hunger—one must remain vigilant to every little detail." He noted, while setting the satchel down in front of him, and opening the magically-sealed latch. How else could one keep his treasures secured from the humans and other thievish folk, which had no bounds for personal property? "Ah, here it is." Dylirius declared preemptively, before pulling out the thick hardcover book, and opening it to reveal the exact page that he needed. Covered in crimson-inked text so minuscule, that it seemed impossible to read. Yet his single claw proceeded to tap against the written description that he began to read aloud. "Bouquet Black Earth Tongue. Undoubtedly named for its obsidian color and growth patterns resembling a bouquet. Its delicious buttery texture will melt on your tongue. So long as it has at least four white spots on the cap. But it's safer not to actually swallow its stems..." He said, wasting no more time to put his book away and close the satchel. Before Dylirius reached below and plucked one straight from the ground. Able to see its five spots on top, as he effortlessly inserted a single claw into the tender mushroom. Soon popping the cap into his slightly-ajar maw, and sucking on its unique savory flavor. As he continued to pick more and more delicacies to enjoy—the blissful demon had soon stuffed his maw full of mushrooms. With their stalks sticking out, and a river of drool dribbling down from the side of his chin. While failing to be concerned, or acknowledge however The Spore that Speaks was reacting to this. It was likely difficult to tell how much of this was a playful act. Sure. The minor swelling of the tongue, and excess production of saliva is another side effect of tasting it. But oh it's so worth it. Dylirius thought, with his tails gently swaying back and forth. And these will also be quite useful in my serum for suppressing someone else's ravenous appetite. He concluded. Not taking long to spit out the undissolved mushroom stalks and then bury them underneath a pawful of soil. As Dylirius nonchalantly looked over his shoulder and smiled at The Spore that Speaks. "Good evening, Spore. I must commend your excellent gardening skills, once again." Dylirius praised, speaking in a fond tone. "And I mean it—a precious few can tend to such a delicate and deadly garden in the Everdark." He appealed, while picking up his satchel and turning himself around. Trying to 'butter up' his acquaintance, since it was only natural for an alchemist to frequently meet the supplier of his ingredients…</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Within the Caves... as Yvaine and @Dark Light as the Sword(?) As she finished surveying the camp Yvaine's pointy ears heard the faint sound of clanging blades, the sound of combat deeper down a nearby tunnel. Could someone else have killed the other dark elves? A lost adventurer or someone else entirely? * * * Deep in the tunnels below two figures had their blades crossed, in the darkness only the dim light of a lantern on the cave floor illuminated the shadows of their faces both grimacing as they tried to overpower one or the other. "Stop this madness Gwain, haven't you spilt enough blood." said the one pressed with his back to the wall, in a thick elven accent, to which his aggressor Gwain responded with an unhinged laugh. "I haven't even begun yet Vrel, my family will be avenged!" with a sudden push the maddened man threw the others blade clattering to the side then swung his blade disemboweling the other, blood spattering Gwain's face bearing a disturbing grin. "I'll leave you Vrel, although I would have loved to watch you die." as he left the maddened dark elves laughter echoed behind him leaving the other on the ground raggedly breathing desperately trying to keep his insides from spilling out. Even though it would just make sense to accept it he wouldn't go without a fight because young Vrel was stubborn to the last. Breathing a gurgling sigh the young dark elves eyes drifted to his fallen weapon "I hope your next wielder-" he coughed hard into his arm, the spot of red growing on his tunic "Isn't as shitty a swordsman as I." Vrel chuckled only to wince in pain. And he laid upon the cold wet cave floor awaiting death, with his sword not far from him.</s> <\|message\|>Mortimer Costello Interacting with: @RogueFox@Shadow Dragon "I understand your concern with others..." It was a known fact that not all the denizens of the Everdark were amicable to one another. Some even were outright hostile. "but isn't it a good sign that he hasn't attacked us or even threatened us on sight?" It was around this point that he 'felt' the vampire take his hand and gives it a polite shake and explain to the duo that his magic will only affect those with blood. "No doubt about that sir vampire, but I'm sure you are powerful in your own way." Rather than turn his body away from the hemomancer vampire, the skeleton simply opts to turn his head 180° with his free hand to face the worrywart wraith. Attempting reassure her that the vampire was more of a potential friend than a potential foe. "See, Hecate? He seems a decent enough individual. Give the guy a chance." Twisting his head back to face the vampire, one could observe that the blue motes of flame inside his eye sockets shape themselves into downward crescents. As if to notify the vampire that the bug-infested skeleton was rather happy. "I take it that this means that we would be travelling together for the foreseeable future?" And maybe even beyond that; as he'd be sure that the vampire also had a vendetta to be settled against those adventurers.</s> <\|message\|>Hecate Interacting with: @Shadow Dragon @Searat Hecate, upon seeing the vampire's interaction with Mortimer, and hearing that his magic can't effect her, she visibly loosened up. She floated out from behind Mortimer. "I... I will give him a chance." She looked between the two, and though they weren't the company she used to keep, she felt comfort in no longer being alone. "Yes, we will, I suppose... but to what end? I was hoping to find survivors and rebuild the Everdark.... I have had no luck in finding anyone... She let out another mournful sob as ethereal tears fell from her eyes and dissipated before making it halfway to the ground. "Are your plans similar, sirs?" Hecate attempted to stiffen her upper lip, but sorrow remained evident on her face as she reminisced of the goblins and other monsters she had seen as family. Some Lamias, cave trolls, and even more were among her now deceased friends. She used to cook meals for them from the meats they harvested from rats, small fish, and the rare adventurer who had journeyed too far alone. She cried yet again, realizing that even now she won't be able to cook for her new companions.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch What was that? Yvain poked her head out of the barren tent. Sound carried far in the Evardark, and the echo she caught bouncing out of one of the nearby tunnels was as fain as it was unmistakable. The chaotic clangs of blade on blade combat. Between who was the question. She darted forward, scooping her torch out of the spent campfire and sprinted down the tunnel towards the source. Who? Who? She had to keep herself from calling out. The fact that both were humanoid narrowed down the list of who it could be, but those possibilities were still enough to scare her into silence. It could be a survivor from her unit, of course, but it could also be one of the adventurers. One that was still hanging around, or had gotten lost, or had just had so much fun then were still looking for a challenge. The image of the giant, musclebound beast of a half-orc that had brought the pommel of his great sword down directly on her helmet and ruined it came to mind. Finding one of the full orc mercenaries the dungeons boss had hired on might be even worse. At least she could be sure that the the adventurers probably wouldn't eat her after she was done. It could be a mad skeleton who was off its magic chain and angry at the living. It could be a animated armor stuck in battle mode. It could be two goblin fighting over a patch of mushroom. The number of thing it could be besides a survivor was astoundingly large and almost everything else would probably want her dead. It turned out to be more other dark elves. The sounds of battle stopped as she approached, replaced with voices. She slowed down, creeping forward so as not to let them know she was approaching. They were speaking her language but she didn't recognize either of the voices. There was a heart shaking sound of cutting, followed by something splattering to the floor. The winner had the voice and the laugh of a madman, enough so to freeze Yvain in place. She drew her sword, slowly, quietly, waiting for the sound of his footsteps to come her way. Instead they pattered away in the opposite direction, down one of the many tunnels, and Yvain let out the breath she had been holding in. The cavern she stepped into was illuminated only by the light of a single lantern, but even still she could make out a form slumped against the far wall. He was breathing raggedly, using his final breaths to speak kindly to weapon discarded on the floor. Breathing. Breathing! Still alive! She rushed across the room, kneeling next to the fallen man. She felt something soaking into her knees. A lot of something. Enough something to know that first aide wasn't an option for anything short of magic, and unfortunately enough their resident Cleric had been the first one to go when the adventurers swept through. She didn't panic. Death by other Dark Elf was unfortunately a common occurrence where she was from. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "Yvain, Cry Wolves. You guys were probably here because of me. What happened?" Light</s> <\|message\|>Vinashy Interacting with:@Searat and @RogueFox "Indeed. Those 'heros'-" He spits the word out like a curse, "-burchered helpless residents of this cave network. I want them to suffer, to writhe in agony the way they made your friends. They deserve it for all they've done to you. Make them weap, fill them with the sorrow you yourself feel this very moment." He raises his arms in the air, beckoning them to him. "Join me in a quest of vengeance. They wish to kill for sport? Let's show them how it feels to be hunted."</s>	<\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "Oh" The sword thought in a contemplative silence as the large eye in its hilt split open and rolled to gaze upon its dying wielder. It could hear his words but could not reply since they were no longer in contact. What would it say anyway. The fragile creature was expiring. As they often did. "Perhaps I should have done something?" It mused, trying to understand why it hadn't felt like doing more. Meanwhile it just watched as the dying drow's life essence steadily escape him, a pool of blood growing larger around him ever slowly creeping closer and closer to the weapon. Then a new figure emerged. The weapon had already been aware of her presence but could now physically see her form as she knelt over the dying dark elf. Curious. He found her actions to be of interest and continued to watch on intently. His wide yellow eye very occasionally blinking.</s>
<\|description\|>(Yet unnamed) Alias/Nicknames: Race: An amorphic living blade. Talks telepathically to its wielder. Has an eye but its keen senses extend beyond physicality. Gender: ♂ tone Background: Long long ago a powerful warrior's soul entwined with his magical blade instead of passing over to the unknown. Eons passed, or maybe not, while the lost soul learned to harness the power of the blade and his own. Personality: Talkative for an object, curious, bossy on occasion. It has a short attention span. Skills: Combat Skill: Combat foresight The blade, if well connected to its wielder, can offer foresight and insight during battle. A mix of magic, keen senses and eons of experience. Non-Combat Skill: Can alter its shape within limitations Possessions: 3 grand gems in his hilt.</s> <\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "A good artisan... Never blames. Hisss... Sworrrd." A low whispered voice echoes in the drows head. The words long and drawn out, holding an almost defensive tone. The sword, although short felt heavier than it appeared and the eye, while possessing no eyebrow or muscles around it, somehow still gave a judgemental condescending glare. Or was it just in her head? "So, you think you can do better than... he did?" The sword hesitated, seemingly already forgetting its previous owners name or simply deeming him to unimportant to mention. Then it continued, its soft slow whisper absent of any commitment or vigor. "Please go ahead, find vengeance, slay the wrong doer... Use me as a tool to deliver death. As was his dying wish. That is only if you know how to do more than just stare at me? Or maybe all this one does is talk?" The eye continued to stare, blinking twice in succession but then not again. Simply becoming unable to.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch Oh crap, she had offended it. More worrying was that the sword could be offended, and could share that information with her. She almost dropped it right then and there, letting it clatter to the floor and leaving it stranded in the dark until someone else stumbled along and found it. Something about it, thought, instead made her grip on the hilt tighten. Something incredibly familiar. "I certainly can't do any worse than he did." She replied, trying to summon up some of that imperiousness that came so naturally to every other member of her family. She was sheriff around these parts now, if only because she had discovered her commanders brutally decapitated corpse. If there was a threat to the dungeon that was still her responsibility. She glanced at the yawning mouth of the tunnel the other dark elf had disappeared into and gulped. "Right, lets go get this creep!" She said, pointing her new sword in its direction. She marched forward, discarding her torch and picking up the lantern along the way as she followed after him. Of course the branching paths of the Everdark were intentionally twisted and confusing. There was no guarantee that she would find her quarry. It was more likely that he was going to get lost, eaten by some desperate dungeon denizen, or starve to death walking in circles. There was no telling where they would be spit out. "So," she started as she walked, making conversation just for the sake of hearing another voice. "Do you know why these guys are here? Was that guy always your master or did you get picked up along the way?" Light</s> <\|message\|>Phaid Phaid easily navigated through the twisting flooded caverns of the Everdark, years of practise clearly evident. For many generations now, the Bullywugs had lived among this submerged architecture, calling it their home, a place in the dungeon for only the frog-kin. Phaid was a proud Bullywug, viewing himself as an alpha among his clan, the rightful lord of these depths. As such he had no problem eating something without sharing it among his kin. And that is exactly what he did as he leaped out of the water. A small rat had barely enough time to even squeak as Phaid opened his jaws, easily encompassing the rodent. With a loud crunch, Phaid broke the rat in half, his powerful jaws grinding it up enough so that he could swallow. With one last gulp, Phaid completely downed the rodent, sending it to his digestive track. Phaid then wiped away what little blood from his meal that had gotten on his face. While Phaid always enjoyed the taste of rat meat, the one he had just consumed had been on the smaller end. The Bullywug did not feel full, his tongue salivating at the idea of having one more rat. Unfortunately, Phaid did not see anymore rats around the pool. With his one good eye, Phaid looked down the tunnel, the only light coming from some bio luminescent fungi that clung to the walls and glowed a bright blue. While he didn't see anything dangerous, he did know that he was near the edge of his clan's territory. But the primal feeling of hunger overtook Phaid, as he threw logic to the wind. With wet steps, Phaid began walking down the tunnel. He figured that he would only be a few minutes, and that his clan would be safe without the protection of their Puddle Knight. But Phaid kept his short sword on himself just in case he wasn't safe. With a hand kept on his blade's hilt, Phaid left the familiar tunnels of his people and into the bigger part of the Everdark. Phaid attempted to keep walking forward as he didn't want to get lost. He had heard stories of Bullywugs who had travelled too far and were forever lost, dying from exhaustion unless the creatures of the dungeon got to them first. It was with those phantom creatures in mind that Phaid stopped when he heard a voice. The Bullywug quickly dropped to one knee and began to listen. Whatever was making that noise didn't sound that large to Phaid, so he ruled out the worst possibilities like a troll or ogre. But then Phaid thought of what if it was a smaller creature. He had heard tales of giant Bullywugs eating Kobold babies, apparently being a delicious meat. The thought of snacking on one was enough to cause Phaid to slowly approach the voice. As he got closer he saw a being who looked like a giant walking mushroom. Phaid knew of this creature, a gentle being who comes and goes. The mushroom was standing next to some kind of small furred animal wearing clothes, apparently the one who was speaking. Phaid didn't know what to make of him, until he mentioned helping with ailments. Even to a Bullywug, Phaid understood that as a code word for herbs and mixtures. While he wasn't supposed to waste trade items for frivolous things, Phaid had in the past partaken in some psychedelic plants. It helped liven up Phaid's mundane life. Deciding to be bold, Phaid approached the pair, his hand still on the hilt of his sword. "Excuse me small mammal. Would you perhaps be selling the mind warping flower?" Phaid asked as he sized up the medicine man. [Interactions with: @Moon Man @SleepingSilence]</s> <\|message\|>Zarroy (Pronounced Zarr oi) "Stop broking webs! Then I helps! Scri'erk helps Survivors. No eat!" Zarroy instinctively felt one of his hands twitch towards the webbing, much like a naughty child being told not to touch something in the toy aisle. Yet the golem calmed himself as he remembered his task. Isatar had painstakingly took way more time then necessary to try and ingrain the importance of survivors into his mana addled brain. Zarroy still standing tall despite Scri'erk more or less spraying more webbing onto his beautiful disaster nodded his head. "I will be more careful. Sometimes your webs cover the entire walk way and I have no choice..." Zarroy looked downward pouting like a small child who was trying to explain his point. It was during this conversation that Ginto cautiously gave Scri'erk a wide berth as she got to Zarroy as quickly as her small goblin legs could take her and leaped onto Zarroy's ankle and started to halfway climb and crawl up the golems rocky leg. Zarroy noticing her ascending his leg reached down and grabbed her between his thumb and index finger and set her on his shoulder. Ginto brushed off her animal skin skirt and let out a relaxed sigh figuring herself out of reach of Scri'erk. "If you two have made peace can I suggest we get going?" The little goblin looked sadly at the Slumbering Lantern. "Nothing is alive here anymore and we need to keep looking." Zarroy pointed towards a path they had not been yet. "I don't know that way...Check maybe?" [intercting with @Birdboy]</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk -------</s> <\|message\|>Dylirius Interacting With: @Martian @Moon Man The lesser demon immediately stepped in front of the camouflaged Spore. I can smell you coming... Dylirius thought in disgust, as he turned around to face the sword-wielding stranger. With his impulsive actions, likely to be perceived as defensive by the swordsman. From the way Dylirius presented himself, in his equally brazen approach toward the battle-savvy Bullywug. Especially, since he didn't seem to have any visible weapon. Nor did his paws ever reach for the satchel that was carried on his backside. Being able to see the cat's scrutinizing eyes and relaxed stance. Both suggesting that he relied heavily on his excellent agility and reflexes. Because how else could one interpret the friendly smile that Dylirius displayed shortly thereafter? Either the medicine man believed that he could outrun a warrior—or he was simply unafraid of injury or death. At least, that was Dylirius' best assumption of what was going through the foul-smelling toad's head. Soon-to-be reminded of why he was frequently grinding and chewing on various pieces of fragrant herbs or flower petals. Not saying anything about how many times he bathed, in order to keep the Everdark's stenches off of him. But there were still certain odors that his sensitive nostrils adjusted to quicker, and therefore tolerated much better than others. So sure, it might've seemed strange to be unaffected by the death and decay surrounding him. However, nothing was worse than the cruel scent of freshly-eaten meat guts. Though he tried his damndest to appear friendly regardless. "Oh, I don't require true payment from my fellow Everdark dwellers." Dylirius declared in an upbeat tone. Sounding delighted to advertise himself to others—since he was very likely one of the newest creatures within the Everdark. Only known by anyone else here, for his effective treatments and boundless generosity. And he intended to keep it that way. "Name's, Dylirius." The demon greeted, while briefly tipping his oversized hat toward the Bullywug. "And yes, I can provide you with that substance." Dylirius confirmed, without as much build up as he was used to giving. Just in case his armed customer wasn't so patient. "But I don't have those precise ingredients on me now. So you'd have to wait here for a moment, and let me work." Dylirius offered, with his paw casually extended. Not minding whether he had his hand shaken or not. "But I assure you that it would be most worth the wait. Sir-" Dylirius appealed with a pause, to get the stranger's name. Using the prefix out of belief that his ilk would feel slighted, if it wasn't used. Since the human knights were always obsessed over their worthless titles.</s> <\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) There was a sound in Yvaine's head that could only be described as a sigh. Beyond that the sword fell silent. Clearly not a conversationalist. Simply offering no reply until the dark elf seeming hesitated at an intersection. "Left..." It said with a cold flat certainty. " Right Right Left..." It continued to guide her down the tunnels, apparently aware of or seeing something she could not. "Keep going." it ushered. "But try to be a bit more silent... If you must talk to the voices in your head, then at least try to appear sane and keep the conversation in your head." There was a slither of light amusement in the swords final words. Yvaine could almost somehow sense it smirking.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch "You are-," Yvain started before quickly shutting her mouth. Instead she thought "You are a voice in my head" as she dutifully followed its directions. If it was going to be this difficult to get a conversation out of than it was just going to have to get cozy with the rest of the voices in there. She wondered, momentarily, if the voice was even real and whether the shock of seeing her first company in weeks chopped down like a giant mushroom hadn't finally caused her to snap. If she was insane now, though, it was a better form of insane than whatever the person she was chasing had. She hoped that the sword, or whatever aspect of herself had splintered off and was speaking to her through the sword, knew where it was going. If it did, that probably meant she wasn't crazy. Do you have a name at least? Swords that are magic tend to have names. At least, they do it all the operas. Light</s>	<\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "What is an opera? And just how many like me are kept there?" It replied with a seemingly genuine curiosity. " Right Right again. We are getting close" The sword seemingly grew lighter in Yvain's hand. At the same time it fell into a contemplative silence. What gave Yvain the idea that the sword was thinking, and if she was right to assume so, was just another of its many mysteries. A moment later it spoke again before she could get a word in. "We don't need titles. You don't need to address me when you want to communicate, I hear all your thoughts and words anyway, and well, I can't speak to anyone else so if you hear my voice it is safe to assume I am talking to you." "But.... what we're the names of these other magic blades kept at the operas?"</s>
<\|description\|>(Yet unnamed) Alias/Nicknames: Race: An amorphic living blade. Talks telepathically to its wielder. Has an eye but its keen senses extend beyond physicality. Gender: ♂ tone Background: Long long ago a powerful warrior's soul entwined with his magical blade instead of passing over to the unknown. Eons passed, or maybe not, while the lost soul learned to harness the power of the blade and his own. Personality: Talkative for an object, curious, bossy on occasion. It has a short attention span. Skills: Combat Skill: Combat foresight The blade, if well connected to its wielder, can offer foresight and insight during battle. A mix of magic, keen senses and eons of experience. Non-Combat Skill: Can alter its shape within limitations Possessions: 3 grand gems in his hilt.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch "You are-," Yvain started before quickly shutting her mouth. Instead she thought "You are a voice in my head" as she dutifully followed its directions. If it was going to be this difficult to get a conversation out of than it was just going to have to get cozy with the rest of the voices in there. She wondered, momentarily, if the voice was even real and whether the shock of seeing her first company in weeks chopped down like a giant mushroom hadn't finally caused her to snap. If she was insane now, though, it was a better form of insane than whatever the person she was chasing had. She hoped that the sword, or whatever aspect of herself had splintered off and was speaking to her through the sword, knew where it was going. If it did, that probably meant she wasn't crazy. Do you have a name at least? Swords that are magic tend to have names. At least, they do it all the operas. Light</s> <\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "What is an opera? And just how many like me are kept there?" It replied with a seemingly genuine curiosity. " Right Right again. We are getting close" The sword seemingly grew lighter in Yvain's hand. At the same time it fell into a contemplative silence. What gave Yvain the idea that the sword was thinking, and if she was right to assume so, was just another of its many mysteries. A moment later it spoke again before she could get a word in. "We don't need titles. You don't need to address me when you want to communicate, I hear all your thoughts and words anyway, and well, I can't speak to anyone else so if you hear my voice it is safe to assume I am talking to you." "But.... what we're the names of these other magic blades kept at the operas?"</s> <\|message\|>The Spore that Speaks Interacting with @Martian @SleepingSilence After hearing his furry friend's explanation, Spore looked at him with two large, unblinking eyes. "If… you… say… so…" It slowly pulled itself away from the wall. The Spore that Speaks wasn't something that trusted so easily. Due to its nature it preferred to keep to itself yet the lesser demon somehow managed to prove its trustworthiness to the myconid. Perhaps it was due to their common interest of different types of fungus or the fact that Dylirius didn't really care whether he got paralyzed or not. It slowly shuffled its way forward, eyes darting around, obviously still alert. "Please… give… warning…next…time…" said the jittery myconid. It moved past Dylirius and started to tend towards the newly grown garden, making sure each part of the fallen dungeon dwellers and invaders were home to different types of fauna. It was minding its own business when the sound of talking was heard. Turning around The Spore that Speaks could see Dylirius talking to something, or someone. Shuffling around a little bit it could see the source of the unfamiliar voice. It was a rather tall, green looking frog thing. One of the creatures who live in flooded parts of the Everdark. It looked quite tall and imposing with its build and scarred eye. Spore's gaze moved down towards the visitor's hip where there was a hand resting on shortsword. Memories of its kin and other dungeon dwellers being cut down by the invaders resurfaced. "Danger…! Sword…!" It warned Dylirius through the use of spores. Without waiting for a reply, The Spore that Speaks quickly shook its large cap releasing a wave of bright yellow dust that quickly filled the entire room where it hung as though it was fog. It turned around and shuffled as fast as it could towards another exit.</s> <\|message\|>Dylirius Interacting With: @Martian Dylirius found himself in a difficult situation. When he heard the Spore's warning and didn't have the chance to prevent an inevitable cloud of paralysis from enveloping his potential customer. Giving the lesser demon seconds to decide, if he wanted to get stuck alongside the soon-to-be cranky toad, or rush off to safety and leave the Bullywug to his fate. So that way he'd be able to come back and offer his assistance. Having the benefit of helping the warrior out of a dilemma—assuming he wasn't too stubborn or angry to accept it. On the other hand, if the Bullywug saw Dylirius fleeing the scene alone, and didn't realize the myconid created these stunning spores in the first place… Oh dear—I wish you wouldn't have done that. Dylirius thought, before softly exhaling and opening his extended paw that was meant for a handshake. With enough quickness to focus on a particular herb stem, thinking about its rough feel and light green color, plus any extra details that he needed in order to perfect its creation. Thankfully, it was easier for Dylirius to use his herbal alchemy on things that he had grown familiar with. Yet another reason that he had put so many things inside of his mouth. And I just replenished my mana earlier. Dylirius lamented, as his claw tips began to shimmer with a crimson red light. "Here stranger. Stick this in your mouth, and suck the juice out of its stem." The cat insisted, while quickly inserting one of two long green leafy stems inside of his maw. Which somehow spawned inside his no-longer-glowing paw, right before the Bullywug's eyes. Holding out the other one for the Bullywug to take, just as the large area got completely covered. Able to bite down onto the stem tip and taste its bitter slime that soon coated his whole tongue. "That'll let you speak and breathe without any trouble, as long as you keep it in there." Dylirius elaborated, while still grinding the stem in-between his teeth. Though unless Phaid had already done what was said, and hadn't tried to escape the burst of fog on his own. The toad could've had a bigger problem, than being unable to move for a few hours. Since it turns out that breathing in a haze of toxic spores—wasn't the best thing for one's lungs. Who knew?</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Searching Crypts @RogueFox @Shadow Dragon In the dusty corpse ridden halls of Everdark's upper half, the trio would find no living survivors other than rodents and other vermin picking corpses clean of their flesh. Vinashy was unfortunately the only one with olfactory senses so the smell of pustulant rotting flesh assailed his nostrils, but it was nothing the blood ritualist couldn't handle. Some bits and pieces of broken weapons littered the floors nearby the bodies, some had the irreparable vestige of armor clinging to their remains. But between the buzzing of flies suddenly came the sound of brisk and rapidly recedeing footsteps, whoever it was they were in a hurry to get away. It sounded like whoever or whatever the footfalls belonged to were anxious to flee to the deeper portion of the dungeon.</s> <\|message\|>Mortimer Costello Interacting with: @RogueFox@Shadow Dragon "More of the same..." Mortimer says as they wandered deeper into the dungeon's halls. He'd note that he should bury their dead after they establish a base of sorts. Just felt wrong to just leave them there rotting with the bodies of those horrid adventurers. But what caught his full attention was the sound of footfalls that weren't his nor the vampire's echoing through the halls as it grew fainter and fainter as the being that caused it went deeper into the dungeon. Mortimer called out but it seemed that he reacted too late. The sound of footsteps had gone so distant that he couldn't hear them any longer. "I'm sure that I wasn't the only one who heard that. We ought to follow them...but keep your guards up. We don't know if they're hostile or not." He was feeling a little more confident than when he was all alone but confidence would nary hinder an attacker's blade. Better to be prepared for the worst rather than getting caught with your metaphorical pants down.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch So they were getting close. Yaaaaay. She wished she had some general idea of how strong the man they were pursuing actually was. Well, actually, she did: strong enough that he killed a whole scout force by himself. She could only hope he had done that through subterfuge and surprise, because if he hadn't she was just going to have to rely on getting the drop on him or getting lucky. It was a good thing, then, that she was "blessed" with an inordinate supply of good luck. To take her mind off that she focused on the question...sword, she guessed... had asked her. "Opera isn't a place, it's a performance. Entertainment. Like a play, but every word is sung. And it's sung in old Elvish, so most of us younger delves have to read the plot in a book before it starts. It was pretty, but it wasn't her thing. Mostly old legends about war and romance, betrayal and revenge. A whole lot of betrayal and revenge. "There was Mourning Lily. It was stabbed into the heart of a Matriarch and froze her in magic sleep, so her favorite concubine had to go on and arduous quest to find a way to break the spell. I'm pretty sure that one was just an allegory. Most of them are. Tusk was this wicked sword wielded by the queen of the hobgoblins that inflicted wounds that never stopped hurting. Crownseeker was an sword that was used so many times in coups and assassinations that it developed a taste for noble blood. Durenadal was used by the king of the High Elves during the great war thousands of years ago, some unbreakable hold sword that could never be defeated, but the first Queen managed to seduce the king and steal it. That one I think is real. I heard it was locked up in the palace vault somewhere." Light</s> <\|message\|>Phaid Phaid the Bullywug kept his slow pace as he approached the furry medicine man and the mushroom man. After the events of a few weeks ago, Phaid and all the remaining Bullywugs had learned to avoid anyone they didn't know. But Phaid considered himself a brave creature, at least for a Bullywug. He was still embarrassed over his actions during the massacre that happened in the Everdark a few weeks back. When Phaid and some fellow Bullywugs first got wind of the slaughter, their fight or flight instinct kicked in. They decided on flight, retreating to the deep water tunnels of their domain. The frog-men would hide in this submerged section of the dungeon for several days, praying that whatever was killing the other creatures wasn't amphibious. It had been a low point for Phaid, the so called Puddle Knight. When the hidden Bullywugs did finally return to the surface of the dungeon, they found most of their kin slain, just a few feet away from the water's edge. Since then, the Bullywugs had stayed close to their watery home. They had not wanted to go and see how the other races were affected by the slaughtered, worried minds wondering if the goblin clan survived and would once again attack them. Or what happened to the Dark Elves, Undead, or other powerful beings who ran large portions of the Everdark. But as Phaid approached the two creatures, he wondered if the massacre hadn't been as bad if these ones survived it. But Phaid didn't appear to be the only antsy away, leaving a fog of yellow spores. Phaid thought that he was more imposing than he thought, only for a spore to touch his nose, causing it to go numb. But before any more of the spores could reach Phaid, the furry medicine man handed him some sort of vegetable, telling him to suck out its innards. Phaid wondered if this was a free first taste, so he did as instructed, a slime leaving the plant and coating his throat. As he did this, Phaid no longer felt the numbness as the spores landed on him. The medicine man then told him to keep the plant in his mouth if he wished to breathe and speak. Phaid quickly realized that this wasn't a free first hit, but rather to do away with what the mushroom man had done. He figured that the bitter tasting slime should of been a giveaway. Phaid naturally moved the plant around in his mouth, always keeping it secreting. "Thanks for whatever this is," said Phaid with some trouble as he tried to keep the plant firmly in his mouth, "But do you have any of those spotted flowers, the ones that can take you to the dream plane? I have trinkets to trade for it." What Phaid didn't mention was that these trinkets had been looted from the bodies of fellow Bullywugs. After so many died in the massacre, they could at least continue to benefit the clan. And by that Phaid meant benefit himself, the definite next head of the clan, especially since most of the competition had died. [Interacting with: @SleepingSilence]</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk Dor Scri'erk could be ornery but she had the ability to listen to reason. She had heard rumors that the golem's mind had been addled. Worse yet, looking at it's heaping size she could not deny that perhaps it would be hard for someone of their stature to move out of the way of her webs. That was the point really, to get people to touch them. Putting her grudges aside she let reason win this time. The tasty goblin seemed to interject before Scri'erk could find a reason to be mad again. They were hoping to go deeper into the everdark; a dangerous proposition. Luckily between Scri'erk's deadly poison's and Zarroy's strength they had nothing to be afraid of. "Danger! Goblin ride on Zarroy" She said as she took the lead, prodding into the dark abyss before them with her mandibles. In other circumstances she would allow the small humanoid to ride her own carapaced back. With Zarroy with them, however, she felt the morsel would be much safer away from her own greedy mandibles. Already she could feel them frothing again in hunger. Perhaps there would be a meal for her in the next town.</s>	<\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) Was all the sword said, short and sharp. Amused even. For a moment it seemed like it was going to speak again, to share its thoughts, but it didn't. After a small walk in silence where the sword replied to nothing, it suddenly and urgently blurted. "Stop!" Then, ignoring the urgency of its past words it casually continued. "Tell me of this crown seeker, what did it look like?"</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>
<\|description\|>Ryoko Yumekishi "Okay... I've become an anime protagonist. Discuss!" Gender: Female Age: 21 Nationality: Japanese Appearance: With a picture to start out with... Ryoko stands a fairly-average 5'10", and a reasonable athlete. She is not a track star runner, just physically fit, having grown up in the standard lifestyle of Japan...and then living an American one. Not a traditionalist, she often wears jeans, t-shirt, and jacket and never anything formal. The rugged comfort of a motorbiker's clothes or something similarly tough that doesn't look bad even with wear-and-tear has always appealed to her more than style. Certainly, this has nothing to do with the presenters of a popular car show who eventually left that show to start ANOTHER car show that was very popular. The look that she went for was essentially the smooth and calm exterior crossed with the rough sort of coating that says she isn't afraid to get her hands dirty. She doesn't have any scars or unusual markings. She looks good and looks the way she likes. As for the odd color in her eyes... Well, they are officially classified as 'maroon', which people can get for an eye color. Whether that's actually what happened there is anybody's guess. She never thought anything of it, herself. Personality: No picture here, of course. Part of the reason Ryoko is the way she is has to do with her growing up wondering how people will react to a sudden change. Now, she didn't do anything TOO outlandish, but usually defying convention just a little in Japan is enough. You see, Japan is very often a stressful society to live in. People are pressured to succeed for the honor of their family and to themselves. This sort of thing has had a profound effect on Ryoko, because she had been in classes where a student committed suicide before a critical examn. It really happens, and it's always terrible when it does. And it's things like that that make you ask 'Why?'. Why do these things happen? What possible influences make a person one way or another, and how can the more harmful aspects be stopped? Because of all that, Ryoko is studying psychology, and is a noted observer of behaviors, emotional reactions, and various influences on the human psyche. She lives a life that is different from the norm because {A} she likes it and {B} she believes it to be more healthy. The words 'Let's not get bogged down' from her favorite show have real meaning in the psychological department. If you let yourself get hampered to the point of mental paralysis over a problem, terrible things may befall you before you cross the bridge you were worrying about. Ryoko is, therefore, a young lady looking to fix problems - fix people - before they break completely. She examines the world by being disarming and unexpected in her manner, then offering a helping hand once you remove your jaw from the floor. Soul Powers: So, apart from the Soul Sight, the Soul Awareness, and the Exorcism abilities... Interpretation - Otherwise known as Soul Reading. For those who can perceive the state of the soul, there is more to learn than just the surface. Their intentions, state of mind, and even capabilities can also be gleaned from whatever being Ryoko happens to be scanning. Basically, her Sight learns more. She can see the way you shape your abilities, when the power is charging for an attack, and whether you're truly worthy of a butt-kicking. (It is possible for her to pick up on subtle vibes that indicate a person feels trapped or has no choice but to act the way they do, or other things like that.) This is a tactical ability to know thy enemy. Know thy friends too, really. Same drawbacks as Soul Sight. It's a little obvious when she's used it. Distortion - Now, here's a fun one. Ryoko creates audio and visual hallucination to varying degrees. At its weakest, you feel like you're drunk and you might fall down. At its worse, the effect is nausea-inducing, headache-inducing, massively-imbalancing, and you may not be able to get up for some time IF you don't black out first. It's not focused ON the mind, though she can instill it in ONE individual if she manages physical contact. Otherwise, it's projected in the real world as warping of the light to confuse your eyes and a noise that affects the eardrums to confuse your balance and coordination. It works by projecting her own energy out into the sound and light in an area, then giving it a twist to make it harmful. (If she have physical contact with someone, their soul gets this direct.) She can narrow it to a direction to minimize collateral, but if it's against a group, the field is wide and can affect EVERYONE. It's like that Batman character, Vertigo, basically. Soul Punch - Otherwise known as the Soul Impact. This ability allows Ryoko to transfer energy into impact, to make it stronger than it normally would. Now, she is physically fit, so a kick from her probably hurts. Therefore, a Soul Impact kick would normally put someone in the hospital. It takes only a small amount of energy per hit, as she can't just super-charge One Punch beyond belief, but if she has to do a flurry of moves, they will add up. It's a simple and straightforward kind of move, but like Ryoko herself, it is the rough with the smooth. Although, as an added bonus, she CAN transfer that force to an object and throw it, thus giving the actual object the oomph instead. Skills: Majoring in psychology, so she's excellent in observation and seeing a clear pattern of action in things. Great driver and decent at mechanical repairs, as well. Tried the parkour thing, but it wasn't really for her. Learned to fight, instead. Not an expert, but skilled enough in self-defense to feel confident. She can speak, read, and write Japanese and English. Personal Belongings: Wallet, keys, cellphone, backpack, tablet, notepad, pens, books, etc. She keeps Hammerhead in either a garage or just around where there's a parking space. Background: Beginning! Born in Saitama - No, not that one. - Ryoko was born in the heart of a very ordinary childhood with few outlyers. Because life was seemingly very predictable, she became highly-observant of occurrances that were outside of the norm. And rather than disapproviing of of things that seemed outlandish like some people, she became curious and examined them, trying to find out the WHY. From there, she took more of an interest in foreign shows, including one about three idiots who would talk about cars and do crazy things in them. A certain love of cars and of foreign culture budded about then. It was a decent life. Her parents were a little concerned by her actions, but as long as she remained a studious academic - that there was no indicator that these habits made her grades slip - they were okay with it. Actually, they were being quite reasonable, especially when Ryoko explained that the departure from the norm allowed her to unwind more. In this way, she went through her education...which was struck suddenly by the suicide of a fellow classmate prior to exams. This led her to want to know more about the WHY in life, and how to address it properly, a line of reasoning which led her to study in Psychology. She wanted to help people and prevent tragedies such as this. This was rather heavy - and heady - work, and Ryoko felt that her sampling was a little too small in Japan. Taking a page from her favorite podcast - The Traveling Hatto-san - she decided to get out from where she lived, and not just cross-country...but out of it! She was going to study abroad, and because she needed to be able to get around, she and her parents worked to finance a car, which would be waiting for her in California to drive all the way to the Eastern side of Pennsylvania and the college awaiiting her therein. Yes, a road trip, somewhere in the neighborhood of two thousand miles...in the perfect car. Ryoko had bought a refurbished classic, the Ford Mustang Scorpion, much like the one driven in Starman by the most laid-back human alive, Jeff Bridges. The trip allowed her to properly absorb American culture and get use to life here. She was gonna be in for a while. However, once she got to Ben Franklin University, Ryoko had NO IDEA what was going to turn up next. Relationships: Ryo and Kari Yumekishi - Parents, both living Gets on with most people, but doesn't know that many people in this country.</s> <\|message\|>Leo Wedemire 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> <\|message\|>Lucas Hillcrest Lucas Hillcrest Lucas was currently on the second floor of the library off in a random corner that was secluded because it was surrounded by bookcases. It would make for the perfect hiding hole for any student wanting to study or have a quiet conversation. However if one were to round the corner that led to this small section of library, one would find it empty save for Lucas and a mound of books opened in front of him. However the redheaded youth was not doing any studying at the moment. He was sprawled out with his legs up on the table and a book open resting on his face. Ironically the title of said book was 'How to push through fatigue and keep going'. One could probably say whoever wrote the book obviously hadn't met Lucas. The only sign that Lucas was alive was a gentle snoring. Earlier Lucas had sat down in the library and was surrounding himself with books about insomnia and was currently filling a notebook up with notes and other useful things. Occasionally he would take a sip from his cup of coffee, though it had long since gone cold. The bags under his eyes a telling sign of his struggle to ever obtain sleep. He rubbed his eyes as even his notes were not making sense to him. Trying to think back he was pretty sure he had only gotten three hours of sleep in the last four days. Lucas knew he would crash soon, but whether or not that would be today or tomorrow was still up in the air. Lucas did know he needed a break though, and leaned back in the chair and kicked his legs up onto an empty portion of the table since he was alone and started reading from a new self-help book he had found a few days ago.</s> <\|message\|>Ella Blackheart Ella Blackheart Her outfit her hair Ella was well aware of the people around her, she was aware of Blake and Leo, heck she was aware of Lucas and he wasn't even near her. She called it survival instinct but she has wondered if it was something more. She had nothing to show her french descent, she was French, German, and English which is to say a mix of British and American. Her long line of nationality was because of her family, she had a big family so she had too much history in her blood. She smiled towards Leo but said nothing as she poured herself back into her textbooks. She was busy and unable to focus as textbooks started to fall, she had to move to catch them as they hit the floor with a bang. She covered her eyes embarrassed by what had happened. Her face turned red as she picked them up her focus breaking as she looked around and saw eyes on her, she flushed red and looked down embarrassed.</s>	<\|message\|>Ryoko Yumekishi It was a lovely day, wasn't it? And so, while many were in the library, there was one who was actually outside, right now. Well, for given measures of 'out'. Not too far from the library proper, parked up against the curb, was a black-and-red Ford Mustang, license plate 'HAMRHED'. The young lady inside sat in the passenger seat, one leg up with her foot against dashboard and keeping a book in place while she read. Ryoko had already been and gone from the bookshelves and studious campus-goers, having borrowed her lot for her work. She was taking in a book on Carl Jung while simultaneously shutting out the world, and yet inviting it into her senses passively. Windows were down, and her music list had changed to a song that was just asking for trouble, but she liked it along with the show and game she'd heard it from, so it stayed as she pressed on. Ryoko's study in psychology was not just a simple reading and repetition of facts on paper. When she was not trying to figure out people, she was absorbing atmosphere both inside and out, to gain a feel for where people's reactions would lie in certain conditions. It was right alongside with the whole nature-versus-nurture argument of what marks you more in development. Personally, and perhaps the point of the argument was always to encourage this, Ryoko found that there was no way it couldn't be a matter of equal-footing in the normal development of a personality. Take her, for instance. Traditional upbringings, respect for her parents, and a certain pressure in the back of her mind to succeed so that the rest of the world looked favorably on her family...AND YET, here she was in Philadelphia in the United States, leaning back in her American car with her jeans and her music playing and so on. Who really ruled in this dichotomy? Her parents had helped her establish this on the promise that they would hear good things, and she was personally very motivated to pursue Psych because of the events in her life. Of course, I'm gonna have to take a break at some point. When was that event about the fossil suppose to be again? Major-wise, archaeology had little to do with her field, but history had a place in understanding where people came from mentally as much as physically, so it was kind of a 'Why not?' sort of thing. Besides, it could be interesting.</s>
<\|description\|>Ryoko Yumekishi "Okay... I've become an anime protagonist. Discuss!" Gender: Female Age: 21 Nationality: Japanese Appearance: With a picture to start out with... Ryoko stands a fairly-average 5'10", and a reasonable athlete. She is not a track star runner, just physically fit, having grown up in the standard lifestyle of Japan...and then living an American one. Not a traditionalist, she often wears jeans, t-shirt, and jacket and never anything formal. The rugged comfort of a motorbiker's clothes or something similarly tough that doesn't look bad even with wear-and-tear has always appealed to her more than style. Certainly, this has nothing to do with the presenters of a popular car show who eventually left that show to start ANOTHER car show that was very popular. The look that she went for was essentially the smooth and calm exterior crossed with the rough sort of coating that says she isn't afraid to get her hands dirty. She doesn't have any scars or unusual markings. She looks good and looks the way she likes. As for the odd color in her eyes... Well, they are officially classified as 'maroon', which people can get for an eye color. Whether that's actually what happened there is anybody's guess. She never thought anything of it, herself. Personality: No picture here, of course. Part of the reason Ryoko is the way she is has to do with her growing up wondering how people will react to a sudden change. Now, she didn't do anything TOO outlandish, but usually defying convention just a little in Japan is enough. You see, Japan is very often a stressful society to live in. People are pressured to succeed for the honor of their family and to themselves. This sort of thing has had a profound effect on Ryoko, because she had been in classes where a student committed suicide before a critical examn. It really happens, and it's always terrible when it does. And it's things like that that make you ask 'Why?'. Why do these things happen? What possible influences make a person one way or another, and how can the more harmful aspects be stopped? Because of all that, Ryoko is studying psychology, and is a noted observer of behaviors, emotional reactions, and various influences on the human psyche. She lives a life that is different from the norm because {A} she likes it and {B} she believes it to be more healthy. The words 'Let's not get bogged down' from her favorite show have real meaning in the psychological department. If you let yourself get hampered to the point of mental paralysis over a problem, terrible things may befall you before you cross the bridge you were worrying about. Ryoko is, therefore, a young lady looking to fix problems - fix people - before they break completely. She examines the world by being disarming and unexpected in her manner, then offering a helping hand once you remove your jaw from the floor. Soul Powers: So, apart from the Soul Sight, the Soul Awareness, and the Exorcism abilities... Interpretation - Otherwise known as Soul Reading. For those who can perceive the state of the soul, there is more to learn than just the surface. Their intentions, state of mind, and even capabilities can also be gleaned from whatever being Ryoko happens to be scanning. Basically, her Sight learns more. She can see the way you shape your abilities, when the power is charging for an attack, and whether you're truly worthy of a butt-kicking. (It is possible for her to pick up on subtle vibes that indicate a person feels trapped or has no choice but to act the way they do, or other things like that.) This is a tactical ability to know thy enemy. Know thy friends too, really. Same drawbacks as Soul Sight. It's a little obvious when she's used it. Distortion - Now, here's a fun one. Ryoko creates audio and visual hallucination to varying degrees. At its weakest, you feel like you're drunk and you might fall down. At its worse, the effect is nausea-inducing, headache-inducing, massively-imbalancing, and you may not be able to get up for some time IF you don't black out first. It's not focused ON the mind, though she can instill it in ONE individual if she manages physical contact. Otherwise, it's projected in the real world as warping of the light to confuse your eyes and a noise that affects the eardrums to confuse your balance and coordination. It works by projecting her own energy out into the sound and light in an area, then giving it a twist to make it harmful. (If she have physical contact with someone, their soul gets this direct.) She can narrow it to a direction to minimize collateral, but if it's against a group, the field is wide and can affect EVERYONE. It's like that Batman character, Vertigo, basically. Soul Punch - Otherwise known as the Soul Impact. This ability allows Ryoko to transfer energy into impact, to make it stronger than it normally would. Now, she is physically fit, so a kick from her probably hurts. Therefore, a Soul Impact kick would normally put someone in the hospital. It takes only a small amount of energy per hit, as she can't just super-charge One Punch beyond belief, but if she has to do a flurry of moves, they will add up. It's a simple and straightforward kind of move, but like Ryoko herself, it is the rough with the smooth. Although, as an added bonus, she CAN transfer that force to an object and throw it, thus giving the actual object the oomph instead. Skills: Majoring in psychology, so she's excellent in observation and seeing a clear pattern of action in things. Great driver and decent at mechanical repairs, as well. Tried the parkour thing, but it wasn't really for her. Learned to fight, instead. Not an expert, but skilled enough in self-defense to feel confident. She can speak, read, and write Japanese and English. Personal Belongings: Wallet, keys, cellphone, backpack, tablet, notepad, pens, books, etc. She keeps Hammerhead in either a garage or just around where there's a parking space. Background: Beginning! Born in Saitama - No, not that one. - Ryoko was born in the heart of a very ordinary childhood with few outlyers. Because life was seemingly very predictable, she became highly-observant of occurrances that were outside of the norm. And rather than disapproviing of of things that seemed outlandish like some people, she became curious and examined them, trying to find out the WHY. From there, she took more of an interest in foreign shows, including one about three idiots who would talk about cars and do crazy things in them. A certain love of cars and of foreign culture budded about then. It was a decent life. Her parents were a little concerned by her actions, but as long as she remained a studious academic - that there was no indicator that these habits made her grades slip - they were okay with it. Actually, they were being quite reasonable, especially when Ryoko explained that the departure from the norm allowed her to unwind more. In this way, she went through her education...which was struck suddenly by the suicide of a fellow classmate prior to exams. This led her to want to know more about the WHY in life, and how to address it properly, a line of reasoning which led her to study in Psychology. She wanted to help people and prevent tragedies such as this. This was rather heavy - and heady - work, and Ryoko felt that her sampling was a little too small in Japan. Taking a page from her favorite podcast - The Traveling Hatto-san - she decided to get out from where she lived, and not just cross-country...but out of it! She was going to study abroad, and because she needed to be able to get around, she and her parents worked to finance a car, which would be waiting for her in California to drive all the way to the Eastern side of Pennsylvania and the college awaiiting her therein. Yes, a road trip, somewhere in the neighborhood of two thousand miles...in the perfect car. Ryoko had bought a refurbished classic, the Ford Mustang Scorpion, much like the one driven in Starman by the most laid-back human alive, Jeff Bridges. The trip allowed her to properly absorb American culture and get use to life here. She was gonna be in for a while. However, once she got to Ben Franklin University, Ryoko had NO IDEA what was going to turn up next. Relationships: Ryo and Kari Yumekishi - Parents, both living Gets on with most people, but doesn't know that many people in this country.</s> <\|message\|>Blake Enders Blake Enders Blake had just found himself a book to read, a history book about the Byzantines, and headed back to his seat. When the college"s PA system came online and people outside could hear it. "Good afternoon students, for those that wish to attend the artifact viewing should precede to the presentation hall before all the seats are occupied, that is all" An audible "yes", coming from Blake as he heard the news. The artifact is here, that is sooner than I thought. I thought it will be here a bit later but, that is good enough for me. Blake thought with a smile and went to put his newfound book away. Time to see what this artifact is and all that he knows about it is that from Europe and not one is quite sure what it is for. Either way after the viewing, he gets the chance to help study it and boy is he excited for it. Passing by some students like a woman with blue hair and made his way to the presentation hall in a slight hurry. Blake does not want to be late or worse get there and no seats are left. Well time to see what this artifact looks like and learn more about it. Then Blake can get to the good part and he can not wait for that to happen.</s> <\|message\|>Ella Blackheart Ella Blackheart Ella smiled when she heard the news she did have some time to kill. . . but sadly with the announcement came another one. "Ella Blackheart please report to the veterinarian office. . . your presence has been requested by Dr. Rose." Ella rose from her seat and pushed out her chair gathering all her books up as she walked out of the office heading to the office. Dr. Rose: "Hello Ella. Our subject has arrived unfortunately because of your recent behavior you can not help us." Ella: "What! Ive been doing the most work out of the whole class!" Dr. Rose: "Detention Ella. You will have Detention after school tomorrow." Ella sat down and sat there knowing the others would be arriving soon but she decided not to stay there as she left and headed to her car blasting music loudly. She was given a car as a gift from her used-to-be friend. Her friend had paid for all of it so now Ella owned the car.</s> <\|message\|>Lucas Hillcrest Lucas Hillcrest Lucas tumbled backwards at the sudden noise of the PA speaker that was directly above his secluded space and landed with a small crash and groaned as he mumbled "Motherfucker..." Lucas rolled away from the chair and rubbed his sore back as he fixed the chair and chugged down what was left of his cold coffee. He glanced at his phone and rolled his eyes. He'd be more annoyed if it had not been a special announcement about something he was looking forward to. 48 minutes of sleep how annoying. The power nap was nice though, but man did he just long for a full 8 hours. He'd even be overjoyed for 4 hours. The fiery ginger readjusted his jeans that had slipped downward slightly when he fell and re-tucked his inner white shirt back into them as his green vest fell back into place on top. Chucking his cup into a nearby bin he left all the books where they had been as he would surely return after the artifact viewing was finished. Lucas was rubbing his eyes as he left the library and headed to where he needed to be and was hoping to score a fresh cup of coffee or a caffeine packed mountain dew. He would complain about neither.</s> <\|message\|>Leo Wedemire Leo Wedemire The young aspiring film maker was quickly engrossed in his book. Leo had to stifle a chuckle at an anecdote on the making of the Toxic Avenger, a little worried that if he began laughing he would be kicked out of the library. Leo then coughed, immediately hoping that he wasn't catching a cold, his book tumbling out of his hands and onto the floor of the library. Leo sighed as he picked up the book, having lost his page. As Leo attempted to find his page again, he looked up as movement near him caught the attention of his eye. A girl with blue hair was rustling through some textbooks, as she then looked at Leo, giving him a quick smile. Leo immediately felt a rush of chemicals as the pretty girl turned back to her textbooks. While Leo had been in relationships before, he had never been in a serious one. Perhaps that was why he still got giddy whenever a girl showed him any kind of attention. But Leo's musings were interrupted when the blue haired girl also dropped her books, but with her it was all her textbooks. They hit the floor with a loud bang as her face turned red. The loud clatter seemed to attract the attention of the other nearby students as they turned to see what the matter was. Leo knew how embarrassing this could be, so he purposively looked away, instead looking out the window. As Leo looked outside, he saw that a man had set up a hammock and was resting between two trees in front of the library. Leo was wondering where he got a hammock when the PA system turned on. Apparently the showing of the special artifact at the university was about to begin. Leo chided himself for forgetting that was today. He had been planning to record some footage on the artifact for his documentary class. Luckily Leo had kept his camera in his bag, so he wouldn't have to drive all the way to his apartment. So Leo put the book in his bag, figuring that he would find his page later. As he got up, Leo saw that the blue haired girl was gone. Leo decided then he should talk to her next time he saw her on campus. He then exited the library and started heading toward the presentation hall.</s>	<\|message\|>Ryoko Yumekishi As the music changed again in the car, but even as it did, there was an announcement audible to all, both inside and out, so naturally she heard it through the open window. Ryoko snapped her book shut and flipped herself over to the driver's side of the car. Hammerhead was a faithful recreation of the Ford Mustang Cobra II used in the movie, Starman, but per her own preference, the colors were reversed. The engine roared to life with the mighty heart of a powerful V-8 engine as Ryoko checked her phone for the location of the Presentation Ha- "Oh!" She leaned back in her seat, laughing to herself. "It's right over there." She put the car in pack again, locked it up as she got out, and headed on over, shaking her head. She noticed the hammock man, but thought nothing of it except that he must be comfee there, and instead caught up with another student that was going in the same direction. "So...you're going to see this artifact too, right? Do you happen to know what kind it is? I never got much information about it." For the record, Ryoko's English was pretty good, though an accent still showed when she was under stress or, in fact, when she was impersonating someone from a TV or radio show.</s>
<\|description\|>Bocri Sauburc Age: 36 Race: Human Home Planet: Coruscant Details: Bocri is allergic to bacta and as a result has had a number of injuries repaired with cybernetics.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri shot across the hanger floor, a blur to the clones, as he used the force to accelerate his speed. It was just in time as hundreds of blaster bolts split the air where had been, and where he would have been if he were an average human. The wall where he had stood turned nearly black in an instant as the energy of the bolts singed the plate and, in a couple of spots, buckled them slightly. Helmeted heads were just starting to turn, tracking the blur of his movement, the ugly bulk of the blasters only a split second behind, as he reached the ladder that led to the control booth. He pushed down with the force and shot into the air, even as he slid his blaster back into its holster. The catwalk shuddered as he landed with a thud. The clones below were moving more quickly now, some of them likely could figure out his next move. At this range a moving target would be hard to hit and the marksmen among them were already taking a knee. The hanger was fifty yards wide and the catwalk went the entire distance. Another force sprint was liable to tax him too much and make what was coming next nearly impossible. He began to run, light sabre flashing as he batted away the bolts that were increasingly getting closer. The smell of ozone was so thick it overpowered the usual smell of maintenance chemicals and fuel cells. His whole vision was tinged red from the volume of energy that was coming his way. One concussion grenade, then a second, he sent them spinning out into the hanger bay and watched as clones dove for cover before they exploded, sowing more chaos into the space. Angry shout - commands to fire - were faint below. The catwalk was absorbing some of the bolts and the heat was beginning to buckle, as the plates of the hanger bay wall had done. He was dimly aware of Hirani trying to reach out to him through the force but he had no time to spare for her. This was no time for distraction. He was going to die here if he didn't put maximum effort into it. Once he was safe he would check on her. Ahead of him the control booth door had shot open and in that instant he accelerated again, using the force to pull himself toward trooper who had stepped out, his blaster aimed at Bocris chest. Bocri slammed into the clone and the two of them tumbled into the control room, bouncing off the wall and onto the floor. Bocri recovered first and his light sabre flashed, cleaving the clone from waist to shoulder as he tried to rise from the ground. There was pain in Bocris own shoulder and he spared a glance to see his flight suit was cut and blood was seeping through the material. No time. He lunged to his feet just in time to see several troopers below hurling concussion grenades upward at the open door. He tripped the switch door with a twitch of his hand and then yanked down the lever that controlled the magnetic shield protecting the hanger bay from the vacuum of space. The grenades seemed to hang in the air for a brief moment before they, and everything else in the bay not attached to something, were sucked into space. One was lodged against a transport and the explosion blew a wing off the vessel. He could hear the screams of the clones, feel their terror - especially those he had known well - and the realization that they were going to die. Most had a brief moment of regret and that caught him off guard. A select few were angry, perhaps at their failure, be he would never know. The Jedi star fighters were hurled into space, and the two large transports, one now burning, skittered across the floor after them before finally toppling into space. A rack of Republic fighters jerked violently at their mountings but held firm. Any number of other items went as well, all of it vanishing into the darkness beyond. He slumped down on the only chair in the space and rested his head on the console for the moment. The better part of three hundred clones had been in the bay when he first started his run and now not a single one remained. Why? What had he missed? There was nothing logical about what had just happened. The Clones were a fundamental part of the Republic, as much as the Jedi, it made no sense. "Bocri?" The tug at his mind snapped him back to the reality of his situation. "Hirani. The clones turned on me," What else could he say. "I have vented the hanger bay. The landing party is all gone. Are you okay?"</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- The twi'lek knew she was heard but the lack of response from Bocri left her concerned. It wasn't a new thing for him to not answer her calls while engaged in battle, but this wasn't a typical scenario. They were being hunted by their own and she needed to tell him about this Order 66 and the clones sudden change in mindset. She could only hope that he was in a good position despite the chorus of explosions she was hearing. The troopers were momentarily stunned from having been flung down the hallway and she took this moment to completely immobilize them. She kept her saber in her right hand, but did not ignite it while she walked briskly towards the fallen clones. Even though they meant to shoot her down, Hirani couldn't bring herself to use her deadly weapon against them. Raising her left arm, she reached out a with a slender purple hand towards the troops and pushed their bodies down into the floor, keeping them from reaching anything that would otherwise spell bad news for her. They struggled against her, she could feel it, but it wasn't particularly difficult for her to keep the five cloned men from rising. She thought about removing their helmets and hitting their temples squarely with the hilt of her saber to knock them out but she ultimately decided she wanted to be more gentle than that. She was going to put them to sleep. Through the force she threw a blanket of calm over the men, willing their bodies to relax and tricking their brain into thinking it was time to sleep. One by one she waved her hand over their covered faces and felt their consciousness slip away into deep sleep. They would be like this long enough for her to return to her rooms, quickly retrieve some extremely important belongings, and make a swift getaway. Once in her rooms, she grabbed her brown leather bag that she used to carry all of her medical supplies. In additional to various tools, bandages, medicines, and ointments, this also included numerous crystals and talismans that would amplify her healing abilities through the force. They were not as potent as the ones she used back in the Halls of Healing at the Jedi Temple, but they were potent enough for her to feel compelled to run back for and if they were going to be on the run, they would be invaluable. In the midst of Hirani's packing, her hands slowed at the sudden rush of fear and panic from hundreds of clones. She called out again. "Bocri?" This time, he answered. "Hirani. The clones turned on me. I have vented the hangar bay, the landing party is all gone. Are you ok?" The relief she felt over his response was mixed with sorrow. Being thrust into the vacuum of space would be a painful death as their bodies fought to breathe while the cold emptiness of space sucked away their warmth. "I am fine. I was forced to put some troopers to sleep as they tried to gun me down and I am in my room collecting some things should we need to break away from the ship. CC-9547 said 'Order 66 has been initiated' and we are to be executed for treason against the Republic?"</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- "I am fine. I was forced to put some troopers to sleep as they tried to gun me down and I am in my room collecting some things should we need to break away from the ship. CC-9547 said 'Order 66 has been initiated' and we are to be executed for treason against the Republic?" What the crik was Order 66?... Bocri was having a hard time processing; between having just vented nearly three hundred people into space that he had known on a first name basis, the pain in his shoulder, and the slowly dawning knowledge that all the pain he had felt through the force was likely his Jedi comrades being slaughtered. "I want to say they can't be serious but after what just happened down here..." His words dropped away as he hissed in pain. He drew a kolto bandage from his belt, one of the two he had, and worked it into place over his shoulder. The soothing sensation began at once and he swung his arm a couple times to ensure he could move freely. They were hardly out of trouble yet. "The rest of the clones will be looking for us." He said as he projected his thoughts to Hirani once again. "We won't be able to get off this ship as long as they control the bridge. They'll blow us out of space." He glanced up the steel plating above his head. The bridge was a long run from where he was, but not so far from Hirani. Between him and that bridge, somewhere on this ship, were another three hundred clones, give or take however many Hirani had dealt with. Perhaps if he got into the main ducts? Not an original idea, but one that will skip the majority of the clones, I hope. He was musing to himself as he looked upward at the roof of the control cabin. One of the first things he had done when he came aboard was familiarize himself with every aspect of the ship in the off chance they had to repel boarders. Well, now he was the boarding party. "Can you make it to the bridge?" He asked Hiarni. "I am going into the ducts and will make my way there. Will you be able to meet me?" It was a chance, but it was the only one they had at the moment. He ignited his lightsaber, cut a hole in the ceiling, and leapt effortlessly into the vent above him; he began to run.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- "I want to say they can't be serious but after what just happened down here…" Hirani shared his sentiment, but something was just horribly wrong. A power play had been made from pieces they didn't even know were on the board. Through their bond, she felt the trickles of the pain he was feeling but she was confident it wasn't something that he couldn't handle on his own until she could see to him. As a healer, she couldn't help feeling compelled to see to his injuries at that moment. At this feeling, she finished packing her bag quickly, clasped it securely and flung it over her shoulder. They had to get to safety first. The familiar call of Bocri reached out to her again. "The rest of the clones will be looking for us. We won't be able to get off this ship as long as they control the bridge. They'll blow us out of space." Hirani sent her consciousness towards the bridge. It was only two floors above her with limited personnel inside but heavily protected by blast doors that would magnetically seal if engaged. She was no splicer, so hacking her way in wasn't an option if they were locked. She could melt the door slowly with her saber, but that would leave her vulnerable. Her last option would be to infiltrate the minds of one of the clones inside to make him open the doors for her, it was the fastest outcome for her. "Can you make it to the bridge? I am going into the ducts and will make my way there. Will you be able to meet me? "Yes, let's hope the doors aren't locked when we get there. Otherwise, it's not heavily manned if you have to take it by yourself. Just enough clones needed to monitor the ship and maintain our position in orbit." she replied. Hirani tightened the strap of her bag so that it wouldn't swing wildly across her body as she moved and called to her right hand her saber that she had placed on the bed when she first re-entered the room. She stepped out into the hallway once more and borrowed the keycard from CC-9547's unconscious body so that she could hopefully access the bridge without alerting the pilots inside. As she took her first step away from the sleeping clones, she willed her body to move faster and force sprinted the rest of the way to the elevator. At its doors, she swiped the borrowed key card against the reader to instruct the machine to open. The clones must've taken it to her floor. Ding. The doors slowly opened to reveal the empty booth and Hirani extended a purple hand to the panel to direct the elevator to the top floor that housed the bridge.</s>	<\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri could have hugged whoever designed the Republics military fleet. The vents were large, not big enough for him to stand upright, but certainly large enough for him to move through at a quick jog while doubled over. "Just enough clones needed to monitor the ship and maintain our position in orbit." Hirani was right, that meant there was still a considerable number of armed and dangerous troopers anywhere on the ship at this moment, and they were certainly looking for the two jedi. "Be careful, see you soon. He replied quickly even as he launched himself upward into the vents of the next level. He knew that Master Kenobi has tried a similar trick on a Federation battle cruiser and the crew had been unable to track them, he hoped the Republic had not thought to correct that oversight. His travel through the vents turned out to be a somewhat educational experience. There were multiple various types and it was quickly obvious he had chosen the heat exchange vents as blasts of hot air came ripping by on a regular basis. Sometimes it smelled of food, the galley venting, or sweaty feet, likely a sleeping quarters, once the smell of engine solvents, which could only be the small shuttle bay since the main bay was still venting into open space. From time to time he could feel the presence of clones as they searched the ship. Interestingly enough, he could sense a measure of fear and panic among most of them. It seemed that they were well aware that the loss of surprise was not working in their favour. Once he paused to listen as a squad passed below him. "They're both gone." "That isn't good. I heard the medics can't wake CC-9547 and his squad from whatever Master Hirani did to them." "I thought I had some idea of how strong they were, but I guess not. Five in a dead sleep we can't fix and hundreds vented to space by Master Bocri." Their voices faded as they passed on. Behind them they left feelings of terror and anxiety. Part of Bocri was angry at the situation, but he was fairly certain that the clones were not responsible for what was happening. Not that it mattered, the only friend he had left on this ship was Hirani. "Where are you?" He launched the question to Hirani. He could sense her closer now as he clambered up vents and gained deck levels. If he could join with her, they would be able to take the bridge quickly and quietly.</s>
<\|description\|>Bocri Sauburc Age: 36 Race: Human Home Planet: Coruscant Details: Bocri is allergic to bacta and as a result has had a number of injuries repaired with cybernetics.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- "I am down the hallway from the blast doors to the bridge. Right outside the elevator doors." Hirani peaked down the crisp white hallway from her position around the corner towards the bridge as she communicated with Bocri. The entire floor was actually unoccupied apart from herself and the handful of clones that ran the bridge. She slid down the wall while turning her had back from the hallway to sit on the floor to meditate. The bag she carried was now positioned in her lap and was being used as a resting place for her clasped hands. Closing her eyes, the Jedi began to meditate. Through her trance, she began to take note of the positions of the clones, the remaining hundreds were scurrying about the ship like ants when you kicked their hill. The altered clones were filled with overwhelming anxiety and Hirani was starting to think that is was perhaps for the best. She didn't want to fight her former allies and had hope that they would be weary to confront the two Jedi. But she knew it was a foolish wish. These men were created to be an efficient army and they proved that they will follow any order given, no matter how cruel. Redirecting her consciousness to the bridge, Hirani began to familiarize herself with the thoughts of the clones inside. If she needed to, she could control the actions of one, befuddle the thoughts of them all for Bocri to execute an easy takeover, or she could also put these clones to sleep like she did to CC-9547's group which would be the most gentle route. She reached out to her human partner, "Bocri, I'm in a position where I can put the clones to sleep if you'd like? It would only take me a bit of time… "</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc CT-35479 (Captain Rathis) --- Fear. Anger. Confusion. A whirlwind of emotions gripped CT-35479, Captain Rathis, as he stood on the bridge of the Corellian Dawn and listened to the hundreds of frantic calls for help that quickly dwindled into silence; the hanger below venting into space. For a few brief moments he could see bodies in white armour tumbling away from the ship until they were lost among the stars. What had gone wrong? Three hundred troopers in that hanger bay and now nothing but silence. "CT-98546, report." He keyed his mic, trying to raise the trooper who had been responsible for overseeing the death of the traitor Bocri. Silence. Ominous silence. "CT-98546, do you read me, over?" The comm waves remained utterly silent. Not even a whisper or flicker of static to suggest someone was trying to key their mic. "CT-9547, report." He addressed the second squad now, those being sent to deal with Hirani. She was in her quarters and should prove a quick task for the elite clone troopers sent to kill her. "Entering her hall now." A moment of silence. "Making contact now." The second turned into ten seconds, and then into thirty. Rathis glanced around the bridge at the remainder of his crew, none of whom looked back at him. "CT-9547, update." Comms silence. No blaster fire. No explosions. Nothing. "What is going on down there?" He finally snapped at a nearby crewman who was flipping through the cameras that covered major intersections throughout the ship, as well as any turbo-lift doors. He silently cursed the Chancellor for not giving them more warning of his intentions to arrest the Jedi. "There is no sign of CT-9547, or his squad." The crewman replied, still flipping through various camera feeds. Other corridors showed clones moving about in disciplined groups as they reacted to the emergency klaxons that blared throughout much of the ship. "Show me the hanger bay." Rathis ordered and waited as the screens were brought up. Half of them were damaged beyond use by the explosions and none covered the control booth where Bocri had been last seen. Rathis began to feel a ball of anxiety form in his gut. Nothing was going as it should have. He eyes raced over the control panels as he searched for any indication of what might be happening. Other than the alarms for the hanger bay, everything was exactly as it should be. That still meant there was one, if not two, Jedi now loose on his ship. "Tell the gun crews to blast anything that attempts to leave the ship. We cant have them trying to esca[e in a fighter or troop transport." There was only one other hanger that could handle the larger craft, and the smaller executive hanger. "I want thirty troopers at each of the remaining hangers. The rest can begin sweeping the ship, starting with the lower levels. Check everything, vents, garbage compactors, nothing can be missed." Comms blazed to life as orders went out and he was relieved to see some semblance of order returning to the ship as the clones moved quickly and purposefully to carry out their orders. It gave one a sense of pride to see it. Minutes passed and squads continued to check in regularly, all clear. Engineers were trying to restore order to the hanger bay but the concussion grenade explosion had shaken wiring loose and the bridge command consoles were unable to reactive the magnetic shield. They had no way of knowing that a lightsaber had slashed through the cables. Squads were just reaching the lower decks of the ship when one of the command crew suddenly jolted upright in his seat. "Uh, sir, sir!" He was waving frantically and Rathis practically ran to his side. A chill ran through him at the site of Master Hirani meditating in the hallway beyond the bridge doors. She was practically inside and he had sent the rest of his clones to the lower decks! He opened his mouth to say something but at that very moment a gentle touch caressed his brain and he found himself feeling terribly sleepy. His fingers scrabbled for the control console even as his knees hit the deck. His tongue didn't seem to want to work as he keeled over sideways, the crewman who had manned the console landing half across his legs, a glazed expression on his face. It was with detached interest he observed Master Bocri appear in the hallway next to Master Hirani. It was not his concern anymore though. He was so very tired. He blinked his eyelids once, twice, and then blackness welcomed him.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- With her task complete, the Jedi opened her eyes slowly to focus on Bocri. Without a second thought she stood to place a purple hand over the bandage on his shoulder and began to pour her own life energy into his open wound. The kolto infused bandage did a good job expediting the body's natural healing process, but she took it to a higher level. If one were to watch, they could see the wound close before their very eyes as muscle and skin cells reformed to become as whole as they once were before shot by a blaster. Hirani felt the pull on herself, as she always did when she healed, and left it so a faint scar was left upon his shoulder. It was nothing permanent and would rectify itself over time naturally. Once finished, she tapped his cheek gently with the same hand that she used to heal his shoulder. "Come, they're fast asleep." Hirani rearranged her bag to lay against her back and confidently turned the corner to walk onto the bridge of the Corellian Dawn. The twi'lek took a moment to appreciate the scene before her, a serene picture of deeply unconscious clones slumped in their chairs and sprawled over the consoles that controlled the every aspect of the cruiser. Despite the horrific circumstances that they found themselves in, Hirani was glad to have avoided killing any troopers herself so far but she knew it was like to change fairly quickly if they didn't find a way off this ship. "Bocri, will you help me to drag them outside before we seal ourselves in here?" As she voice her question, Hirani moved towards the closest clone and began dragging him from his chair to place him against the wall across the hallway.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri moved to help Hirani without comment. He was feeling far less charitable toward their would be assassins than his partner but murder wasn't something he could square with at the moment, well, not killing the sleeping men with a blaster bolt to the head at any rate. It took them several minutes to clear the bridge and he could hear the units from the lower decks continue to check in. They were becoming increasingly agitated with the lack of response from the bridge however and it was only a matter of time before they rushed back to check on their comrades. The last clone was heaved out onto into the corridor and the two jedi retreated inside. They hadn't spoken at all. Bocri was wrestling with his anger at the presumed deaths of so many comrades and was trying hard to keep a lid on the rage that was threatening to spill out. "Mind the door." He said as Hirani followed him back onto the bridge. It slammed shut as he triggered it, and then the blast doors closed a moment later. He moved across to another console and pulled up a screen, glancing at his companion who was watching him carefully. "I am going to turn off the artificial gravity, stand by." He tapped several commands into the console and a moment later the artificial gravity in the ship, everywhere except the bridge, shut down. He could see clones begin to float in the corridors they were patrolling and soon every room he looked at was filled with floating debris. "And now..." It took him but a moment to do what came next and it would stay with him for the rest of his life, however short it may be. He opened every blast door he could and shut down every magnetic field on the ship, save for the bridge. The whole process was meant to assist in fire fighting but at the moment it served just as well to vent the entirety of the remaining clones, including those in the corridor, into space.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- The tidal wave of fear that she felt nearly sent Hirani over the edge and into the abyss. The twi'lek stumbled forward into the blast door, gasping for air like the hundreds of remaining clones that were ejected into the void of space. She nearly forgot that they had been safe on the bridge and fought to regain control of her mind, body, and soul. While she had felt the previous clones that Bocri flung out of the ship, these individuals were much closer and thus able to affect her so. The only comforting thought was that at least the ones she put asleep wouldn't register the pain their body was going through as it died. Hirani inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled slowly out of her mouth. She could understand why it had to be done, but perhaps he could have warned her so that she could have shielded herself from their plight. Moving forward, she would have to place a barrier on her mind from passively feeling the emotions of others as Hirani could only assume things would get worse from here. What she could never shut out, however, was Bocri. Their bond prevented her from closing herself off from him and him from her. She could feel his anger and he would most certainly have felt her panic. Hirani opened her mouth to speak and croaked. Reaching into her bag, she grabbed her water canteen to help clear her throat. After two gulps, she tried again. "What is the plan now? It's not like we can use this ship or any of it's fighters to leave this sector." Her voice was husky, but functioning. She took another swig to help it along.</s>	<\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Despite his anger, Bocri was instantly aware of the pain that he has caused Hirani. He felt shame and regret at once, he should have warned her and at least spared her that sudden trauma he had just inflicted on her. On another day he might have drawn her into a hug but now was not the time, there would be a moment later when they had escaped in which they could sort out emotion. He offered her an apologetic smile and then tapped on the console in front of him. A number of Clone fighters were still out there, so far none of them seemed very interested in the ship as they were formed up some distance off the bow. There was really only one option left as far as Bocri could see it. He couldn't operate the turbolaser batteries, not in any efficient manner anyway. Jedi were skilled at many things, but operating technology over a distance was not one of them. The pilots were too far away for any sort of mind control, which only Hirani could manage anyway. "We crash the ship into the planet." He said quietly. "Set it on a collision course and then, as we get close to the surface, launch all the escape pods, with us in one of them. I'll call a mayday shortly and do my best to fake some sort of emergency to throw off the pilots out there, though I suspect that they will see the others floating in space when they come closer and likely think it's real." He paused and glanced at Hirani. "Does that suit you?"</s>
<\|description\|>Bocri Sauburc Age: 36 Race: Human Home Planet: Coruscant Details: Bocri is allergic to bacta and as a result has had a number of injuries repaired with cybernetics.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri moved to help Hirani without comment. He was feeling far less charitable toward their would be assassins than his partner but murder wasn't something he could square with at the moment, well, not killing the sleeping men with a blaster bolt to the head at any rate. It took them several minutes to clear the bridge and he could hear the units from the lower decks continue to check in. They were becoming increasingly agitated with the lack of response from the bridge however and it was only a matter of time before they rushed back to check on their comrades. The last clone was heaved out onto into the corridor and the two jedi retreated inside. They hadn't spoken at all. Bocri was wrestling with his anger at the presumed deaths of so many comrades and was trying hard to keep a lid on the rage that was threatening to spill out. "Mind the door." He said as Hirani followed him back onto the bridge. It slammed shut as he triggered it, and then the blast doors closed a moment later. He moved across to another console and pulled up a screen, glancing at his companion who was watching him carefully. "I am going to turn off the artificial gravity, stand by." He tapped several commands into the console and a moment later the artificial gravity in the ship, everywhere except the bridge, shut down. He could see clones begin to float in the corridors they were patrolling and soon every room he looked at was filled with floating debris. "And now..." It took him but a moment to do what came next and it would stay with him for the rest of his life, however short it may be. He opened every blast door he could and shut down every magnetic field on the ship, save for the bridge. The whole process was meant to assist in fire fighting but at the moment it served just as well to vent the entirety of the remaining clones, including those in the corridor, into space.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- The tidal wave of fear that she felt nearly sent Hirani over the edge and into the abyss. The twi'lek stumbled forward into the blast door, gasping for air like the hundreds of remaining clones that were ejected into the void of space. She nearly forgot that they had been safe on the bridge and fought to regain control of her mind, body, and soul. While she had felt the previous clones that Bocri flung out of the ship, these individuals were much closer and thus able to affect her so. The only comforting thought was that at least the ones she put asleep wouldn't register the pain their body was going through as it died. Hirani inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled slowly out of her mouth. She could understand why it had to be done, but perhaps he could have warned her so that she could have shielded herself from their plight. Moving forward, she would have to place a barrier on her mind from passively feeling the emotions of others as Hirani could only assume things would get worse from here. What she could never shut out, however, was Bocri. Their bond prevented her from closing herself off from him and him from her. She could feel his anger and he would most certainly have felt her panic. Hirani opened her mouth to speak and croaked. Reaching into her bag, she grabbed her water canteen to help clear her throat. After two gulps, she tried again. "What is the plan now? It's not like we can use this ship or any of it's fighters to leave this sector." Her voice was husky, but functioning. She took another swig to help it along.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Despite his anger, Bocri was instantly aware of the pain that he has caused Hirani. He felt shame and regret at once, he should have warned her and at least spared her that sudden trauma he had just inflicted on her. On another day he might have drawn her into a hug but now was not the time, there would be a moment later when they had escaped in which they could sort out emotion. He offered her an apologetic smile and then tapped on the console in front of him. A number of Clone fighters were still out there, so far none of them seemed very interested in the ship as they were formed up some distance off the bow. There was really only one option left as far as Bocri could see it. He couldn't operate the turbolaser batteries, not in any efficient manner anyway. Jedi were skilled at many things, but operating technology over a distance was not one of them. The pilots were too far away for any sort of mind control, which only Hirani could manage anyway. "We crash the ship into the planet." He said quietly. "Set it on a collision course and then, as we get close to the surface, launch all the escape pods, with us in one of them. I'll call a mayday shortly and do my best to fake some sort of emergency to throw off the pilots out there, though I suspect that they will see the others floating in space when they come closer and likely think it's real." He paused and glanced at Hirani. "Does that suit you?"</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- "We have been together long enough for me to trust your judgement on such things." Hirani said simply as she joined him at the console, her voice having regained most of it's normal function. She could pilot her fighter and smaller vehicles well enough, but a vessel of the Corellian Dawn was beyond her skill. "So long as we don't crash and burn along with the ship, I'll be happy." The healer worked to make herself as neutral as possible and that task had significantly increased in difficulty since she became bonded with Bocri. Jedi are taught not to be ruled by their emotions and to improve themselves with knowledge and training, amongst an overall theme of being a guardian of peace. How one went about fulfilling that role was based on an individual's skill and affinity with the force. The twi'lek peaked at the monitor as it showed some functions she was familiar with and a lot more that she was not. "Is there… anything you need me to do?" she asked meekly, weary of the answer she would receive. She often found herself willing to put herself outside of her comfort zone for Bocri and the only other individual she had bonded with to this degree was her former master, a door which she shut tight deep within herself to keep the pain of their loss from resurfacing. Later, when they have found a safe place to rest is when she'll allow herself to mourn and process the emotions that she could not help to feel but suppressed in the face of the threat in front of them. Hirani had a creeping feeling that the trial set before them would test them to their very core. Would they still be able to uphold the Jedi Code or will they loose themselves to the dark side and the suffering that accompanied it?</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri touched Hirani's shoulder so that she looked at him and offered a weak smile. It wasn't much, but it was something given the situation. "Just trust me, as you always do, and hang on." He turned back to the monitors and for a brief second his reflection stared back at him. His skin, as black as ebony, made his shape look like a shadow, a shadow with a single red eye. His prosthetics would be hard to hide, but that was a problem for future Bocri. "Start jettisoning the escape pods, only one every minute or so, make sure one remains." He instructed Hirani as his finger danced over the console. The recon fighters that had been sent out would be returning soon and it was important that they have no reason to think either Jedi was still alive. The ship responded quickly to his touch as Hirani launched the first escape pod. He hammered the ships "may-day" beacon that would be begin broadcasting all over the sector. There were no other major Republic starships nearby, that much he was sure. The returning fighters would quickly run into the debris field of everything he had vented, including their comrades. That would be an unpleasant surprise but he was making this whole thing up rather spur of the moment. Red light began to throb throughout the ship at once and the scream of damage control sirens sounded beyond the bridge doors. Operating the ship was remarkably easy, all he had to do was set its course for the planet surface, override the emergency alarm, and then step back. With the magnetic shields locked open, no living soul save for a Jedi would be able to make their way onto the ship. Hirani was still launching escape pods as the ship began its turn, the dagger shaped hull rolling over until it was pointed directly down at the planet. He couldn't operate the self-destruct as they needed three codes, one from him, one from Hirani, and the third from the Captain, who had been vented into space. An oversight on his part. There were other ways to wreck a ship however. "Get into the escape pod." He directed Hirani as he walked unhurriedly over to vacuum tube that served to carry physical objects all over the ship as quickly as possible. He pulled four thermal detonators from the small bridge weapons locker. They weren't much, but they would be enough to start a chain reaction of bigger problems with the ship spinning out of control. He set them each for one minute and then launched them to various different parts of the ship; engineering, operations, the magazine, and the galley. His steps were considerably quicker this time as he hurried to the escape pod and climbed inside with Hirani. She pushed the launch button and a "whoosh" followed by a light thud told them they were on the way. They fell away quickly into space, arcing toward the planets surface. The time ticked by his head until the detonators exploded. The vacuum of space would serve to extinguish any real fires but it did nothing to prevent the chain reaction of other shipboard explosions that quickly rippled throughout the craft. Bocri wrapped his arm around Hiranis waist and held her close, his head resting on her shoulder, as they looked back out through the viewport. He could feel exhaustion coming and his shoulder still burned something awful. The closeness, and her own inate skills, serve to sooth some of his pain. Above them, two small pinpricks of light shot toward the wounded destroyer, the scouts had returned. He could hear their cries of confusion and concern over the comlink that he now pulled from his ear and crushed in his prosthetic hand.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- The twi'lek followed Bocri's lead, removing her own comlink from her right ear cone and making the device float in the air momentarily before it seemed to collapse in on itself as Hirani used the force to destroy it. With that taken care of and the crumbled ball of metal discarded to the floor, she turned her attention towards the man that held her. Now that they were under less stress, his body was no longer producing the chemicals that allowed him to ignore the pain in his shoulder and maintain the high energy level needed for him to survive the betrayal they just experienced. She didn't know what awaited them once they reached the surface, so Hirani did what she could and tapped into herself to pour her life force into him so that he would at least no longer feel exhausted. The wound on his shoulder would take longer to rectify and they didn't have that luxury at the moment. It had been only a few minutes since they jettisoned from the ship but the pod was fast approaching the planet and they needed to be strapped in before they made entry to the planet. Hirani turned her face to his, her purple cheek stopping just short of his nose. "Bocri, we need to strap into the seats before the pod starts entering the atmosphere." The Jedi slid his arm from its embrace around her waist and mirrored her movements towards the seats lined along the walls of the escape pod. The bonded pair managed to strap themselves in just as the pod began to hit the outer layers Kijimi's atmosphere and the ride suddenly became a whole lot different. The transition from open space into the layers of gas that enveloped the planet was a violent one and the pod shook uncontrollably as it traveled through the atmosphere. The internal temperature rose several degrees as the outer protective layer lit ablaze with their entry. Hirani gripped Bocri's natural hand in her purple one for comfort… she was nervous. While the pod itself was well designed to withstand the pressures of landing, it wasn't designed to do it in any way that would be considered comfortable and in the mere minutes it took to reach the snowy surface of Kijimi, it only slowed down just enough for them to not disintegrate on it's rocky impact with the planet. The straps of their safety belts kept them from flying into the front of the pod but will definitely leave bruises on their bodies to later remind them of their ordeal. Hirani moaned softly in pain, her hand still tightly gripped to Bocri's as the flickering lights of the cabin fought to stay on.</s>	<\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc An hour later the two Jedi were already a kilometre from the crashed pod, their tracks in the snow erased almost immediately by the wind that howled across the frozen landscape. Beyond them, in the far distance, a massive debris cloud was climbing into the sky from where the cruiser had slammed into the planet. Nothing could be seen of the ship but it took little imagination to know what the wreck was going to look like. Local scavengers would feast for months, if not years, on a prize that size. They wore survival suits from inside the craft. One size fits all and one suit fits all climates was a hopeful claim printed on the interior label. He doubted the manufacturer had ever left Coruscant. He was luckier than Hirani, the suits were designed for humans and not a Twi'lek; the downside of all the Clone troopers being of one species. Her lekku were wrapped in the salvaged pieces of a third suit and then crammed into her hood as best they could manage. That meant more of her face was exposed to the cold than they might have liked but at least they were alive. Kijimi was a remote, frozen, and mountainous planet, but it boasted one major settlement, Kijimi City. The pods programming had brought them well within walking distance of the city and only Bocri forcing it to land sooner had put them down beyond the actual edge of the city proper. They had agreed that arriving on foot would attract less attention than slamming into the ground within shouting distance of any buildings. Bocri brushed a hand at his eyelids as they threatened to freeze together. His mechanical hand, even inside the suit, was moving sluggishly under the onslaught of the cold. He would need to get into the warmth soon to make sure it hadn't been damaged during the fight on the cruiser. He would have cursed his bacta allergy if he hadn't done it a million times before. Hirani had taken the lead for the last half a kilometre and her pace quickened as the first out buildings of the settlement now came into view around an icy outcropping. Bocri plowed after her, sinking almost up to his hips in snow that barely seemed to reach her ankles. He was physically and mentally exhausted. If they were attacked again right now he would be utterly useless to Hirani. She stopped as the building took shape from a dull grey thing in the driving snow to a more substantial looking structure. It had small recessed windows that glowed light and, judging from the size, could fit several families, if it was a house. There was only one way to find out. "Lead on, oh fearless one." He spoke at a normal level but brought his mouth close to the side of her head. The wind might be strong but it was blowing from behind them and would easily carry his yell into the settlement.</s>
<\|description\|>Bocri Sauburc Age: 36 Race: Human Home Planet: Coruscant Details: Bocri is allergic to bacta and as a result has had a number of injuries repaired with cybernetics.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- An hour later the two Jedi were already a kilometre from the crashed pod, their tracks in the snow erased almost immediately by the wind that howled across the frozen landscape. Beyond them, in the far distance, a massive debris cloud was climbing into the sky from where the cruiser had slammed into the planet. Nothing could be seen of the ship but it took little imagination to know what the wreck was going to look like. Local scavengers would feast for months, if not years, on a prize that size. They wore survival suits from inside the craft. One size fits all and one suit fits all climates was a hopeful claim printed on the interior label. He doubted the manufacturer had ever left Coruscant. He was luckier than Hirani, the suits were designed for humans and not a Twi'lek; the downside of all the Clone troopers being of one species. Her lekku were wrapped in the salvaged pieces of a third suit and then crammed into her hood as best they could manage. That meant more of her face was exposed to the cold than they might have liked but at least they were alive. Kijimi was a remote, frozen, and mountainous planet, but it boasted one major settlement, Kijimi City. The pods programming had brought them well within walking distance of the city and only Bocri forcing it to land sooner had put them down beyond the actual edge of the city proper. They had agreed that arriving on foot would attract less attention than slamming into the ground within shouting distance of any buildings. Bocri brushed a hand at his eyelids as they threatened to freeze together. His mechanical hand, even inside the suit, was moving sluggishly under the onslaught of the cold. He would need to get into the warmth soon to make sure it hadn't been damaged during the fight on the cruiser. He would have cursed his bacta allergy if he hadn't done it a million times before. Hirani had taken the lead for the last half a kilometre and her pace quickened as the first out buildings of the settlement now came into view around an icy outcropping. Bocri plowed after her, sinking almost up to his hips in snow that barely seemed to reach her ankles. He was physically and mentally exhausted. If they were attacked again right now he would be utterly useless to Hirani. She stopped as the building took shape from a dull grey thing in the driving snow to a more substantial looking structure. It had small recessed windows that glowed light and, judging from the size, could fit several families, if it was a house. There was only one way to find out. "Lead on, oh fearless one." He spoke at a normal level but brought his mouth close to the side of her head. The wind might be strong but it was blowing from behind them and would easily carry his yell into the settlement.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- Bocri's breath brushing against the side of her frozen face was a much-welcomed warmth from the blistering cold that was Kijimi's climate and the twi'lek subconsciously leaned towards the heat he provided. While Hirani was desperate to be out of the cold, the betrayal they had experienced was fresh on her mind and she was weary of the building that stood before her. It was one of many that were the first buildings to outline the city in an attempt to protect the inward inhabitants from the raging snow storms. With her gaze focused on the door, the Jedi slowed her breathing, every exhale producing a fog from her full lips as she slipped into a meditative state. She let go of her physical discomforts and instead focused on the consciousnesses that inhabited the building in front of them. Hirani gently brushed against the thoughts of the individuals that inhabited the building with a touch so subtle that only those gifted with enough awareness could detect her infringement upon their surface thoughts. They were mostly poor families that had immigrated to the planet, a mixture of choice and unfortunate circumstances, that lived every day counting their credits to have enough to survive. None of the people inside appeared to have thoughts in regards to the two survivors or their circumstances. It would seem word of their predicament hasn't spread further than the clones that now drifted lifelessly in the infinite vacuum of space. Hirani came back to herself as she raised a white-gloved fist to knock heavily on the front door. The twi'lek hoped that the landlord would open the door themselves and be able to offer affordable vacancy where they can get out of the cold into a space safe enough for them to brainstorm their next steps. Her knock should have been loud enough to be heard above the howling winds and at any moment the door should open. Turning face toward Bocri, she filled him in on what she had discovered. "This seems to be a residential building, I can feel many families inside…" As the last words left her mouth, the front door opened to reveal a human man whose dark brown eyes were focused intently on the two Jedi on the doorstep. A fur-lined hat covered whatever hair he may have had on his head with long flaps that covered his ears from the elements and he wore a heavy unzipped jacket that covered most of his plain unassuming clothes. "What can I do for you travelers?" his question was weary, filled with suspicion and mistrust for the people in front of him. The galaxy was a cruel enough place for him to be so cautious. "We are sorry to disturb you, are you the landlord of this building?" Hirani was sincere when she spoke and was making herself appear like a stranded person rather than someone on the run. "Why do you ask?" the man asked gruffly, crossing his arms and leaning into the doorframe. "My partner and I had chartered a cargo ship for transport back to Alderaan and some of the ship's parts ended up breaking down along the way so we are stranded on the planet while it is being repaired or we manage to find another ship off-world. It would be at least be a month before we can move on and we were told we could possibly rent an empty room amongst the city's outskirts that would be significantly cheaper than renting rooms closer to port..." As the Jedi spun their tale, she used the best of her natural persuasive abilities without taping into the force to soften the man to their plight. She didn't like to push her influence on others unless it was absolutely necessary so Hirani got very good at getting what she needed without the use of mystic abilities. The man scratched at his brown hair underneath his hat as he listened to their story and while he tried not to show it, his features softened a bit as he absorbed everything the twi'lek had to say. A man who ran a building for families to rent couldn't be so cold-hearted as he tried to appear. "Well, come inside from the cold. It sounds like you've already had your fair share of problems and by the looks of it, you're freezing in those shitty emergency suits they let you borrow to come out here. Cheap merchant bastards. I can rent you a room and can put you two on a monthly renewable lease while you wait for your way off-planet. I don't entirely trust you, so your rent will be due the first day of every month and if you leave before the month is up, you're not getting refunded any credits." As he spoke to them, he moved from the doorway to let the two Jedi into the building and into the warmth it provided. While the interior was plain and made of the most affordable material that could be found, it was well maintained and the halls appeared to be cleaned regularly. The man in front of them seemed to take a lot of pride in his building and likely wouldn't take well to anyone who tried to disturb his business. As they walked and climbed the four flights of stairs to reach the top floor, he explained the general rules of the building that would be easy enough for the pair to follow as they definitely wouldn't be looking to draw attention to themselves with loud noises, destruction of their apartment, or suspicious comings and goings from the building. "This room was recently vacated, so I can let you two use it for your short-term stint before finding a permanent resident to take it since you don't plan on sticking around. My name is Kodo and you can find me in apartment one on the first floor." As he spoke, the man slid a keycard into the door of the last room on the top floor. The metal plaque screwed into the door read '28' in bold black numbers. The door lead into the living space that shared an open floor plan with the kitchen and dining space. Towards the back right of the room were two doors that must have led to the bathroom and single bedroom. "I'll leave you two to take a look around, but you'll probably want to get yourselves a few furnishings to make yourselves comfortable. When you're ready to do so I can give you the name of the guy I give abandoned furniture to and maybe he'll cut you a deal. He's pretty good for a Rodian..." The man trailed off at the end of his sentence, looking like he wanted to ask more questions now that he saw the pair in better lighting but Hirani could see he was familiar with keeping such questions to himself when it came to newcomers. Instead, he reached out to give her the keycard since she had spoken for the pair. "Here's your key card. It will let you through your room and the front door only." The twi'lek gently took the extended card with a purple hand and thanked the man for allowing them the use of the room. He gave both Jedi the full weight of his gaze before giving them a short nod and leaving them to their own devices in the empty room. Kodo must have been content with whatever he saw in them.</s>	<\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri had not bothered to speak at all during the climb up the narrow stairs that smelled faintly of some kind of urine. He was utterly exhausted; his biological body was suffering as his mechanical body had begun to slow and freeze from the intense cold outside. The survival suits were meant to keep you alive while you sheltered in place, not hike across frozen tundra. Whoever had been contracted to supply the suits to the Republic Navy had cut every possible corner and, if things hadn't taken such a life threatening turn, he certainly would have lodged a complaint when they got back to Coruscant. The glance Kodo gave them was likely well deserved. A black human cyborg and a purple skinned Twi'lek were certainly a rare sight on a planet like this and very likely to draw some attention if they stayed to long. It was possible that Kodo had never even had tow tenants who looked like they did and he was certainly going to mention it, if not to any family, than to any drinking buddies he might have. Betrayal for the moment was unlikely, but things could change in a moment when hunters arrived and money flashed about. He had done it often enough himself when hunting enemies of the Republic. The unit was at least clean, the sharp smell of disinfectant still vaguely noticeable. They would certainly need some furniture, that was of no doubt; the lone bed would fit both of them if they got cozy but someone would have to stand guard. It would be foolish to escape the ship only to get captured or killed while napping. He longed to collapse facedown on the bare mattress but showing any sort of weakness in front of their new landlord would be foolish. Kodo left with a final once over and the door closed behind him, leaving the two Jedi to stare at each other in the painfully bright white room. Hirani looked as tired as he did; he reached out a hand to help her pull the hood off her head tails. He wanted badly to peel off his own suit but until they replaced it with something more suitable there was no point. They had little in the way of food, only survival rations, their lightsabers, and he had a blaster he'd taken from the hanger. A couple hours sleep and meditation would see them restored enough to continue their escape. Already he was considering options on how to try and contact the Jedi Council and make them aware that the two had survived. The truth was, and he would have time to unpack the emotions later, he had no idea what had happened or why. The basics of "Our troops tried to kill us" was obvious enough. The the why. That was going to drive him crazy for days. The pain they'd both felt throughout the force was another question. How many had died? Where? How? All questions that would need to be answered in the days to come. "I reckon one of us should sleep." He said at length before looking down at his mechanical hand and flexing it slowly. "I need to make sure this thing isn't busted up to badly, so why don't you sleep first?" It was a suggestion, not an order. The two had been partners a long time and they had never quarreled. His mechanical eye, the red having been dimmed in the hallway outside now brightened slightly as he swept it over the unit. No hidden electronics or other items jumped out while he conducted the scan and he felt his shoulders sag slightly in relief. "I think our new landlord might even be honest. It seems safe enough for the time being but we'll need to move in a few hours if we want to get off world before more Clones arrive to lock things down." It would have been better to leave at once, but they didn't know the city, no transports would be leaving at this hour, and it would seem mighty suspicious for them to turn up in their survival suits, no matter how clever the ruse. Plus, exhaustion was going to hit hard and sleep would be important until they could find somewhere else to go.</s>
<\|description\|>Hirani Blen Age: 32 Home Planet: Corellia Details: Hirani is currently a Jedi Consular, gifted in the healing arts and a strong force combatant.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- The twi'lek knew she was heard but the lack of response from Bocri left her concerned. It wasn't a new thing for him to not answer her calls while engaged in battle, but this wasn't a typical scenario. They were being hunted by their own and she needed to tell him about this Order 66 and the clones sudden change in mindset. She could only hope that he was in a good position despite the chorus of explosions she was hearing. The troopers were momentarily stunned from having been flung down the hallway and she took this moment to completely immobilize them. She kept her saber in her right hand, but did not ignite it while she walked briskly towards the fallen clones. Even though they meant to shoot her down, Hirani couldn't bring herself to use her deadly weapon against them. Raising her left arm, she reached out a with a slender purple hand towards the troops and pushed their bodies down into the floor, keeping them from reaching anything that would otherwise spell bad news for her. They struggled against her, she could feel it, but it wasn't particularly difficult for her to keep the five cloned men from rising. She thought about removing their helmets and hitting their temples squarely with the hilt of her saber to knock them out but she ultimately decided she wanted to be more gentle than that. She was going to put them to sleep. Through the force she threw a blanket of calm over the men, willing their bodies to relax and tricking their brain into thinking it was time to sleep. One by one she waved her hand over their covered faces and felt their consciousness slip away into deep sleep. They would be like this long enough for her to return to her rooms, quickly retrieve some extremely important belongings, and make a swift getaway. Once in her rooms, she grabbed her brown leather bag that she used to carry all of her medical supplies. In additional to various tools, bandages, medicines, and ointments, this also included numerous crystals and talismans that would amplify her healing abilities through the force. They were not as potent as the ones she used back in the Halls of Healing at the Jedi Temple, but they were potent enough for her to feel compelled to run back for and if they were going to be on the run, they would be invaluable. In the midst of Hirani's packing, her hands slowed at the sudden rush of fear and panic from hundreds of clones. She called out again. "Bocri?" This time, he answered. "Hirani. The clones turned on me. I have vented the hangar bay, the landing party is all gone. Are you ok?" The relief she felt over his response was mixed with sorrow. Being thrust into the vacuum of space would be a painful death as their bodies fought to breathe while the cold emptiness of space sucked away their warmth. "I am fine. I was forced to put some troopers to sleep as they tried to gun me down and I am in my room collecting some things should we need to break away from the ship. CC-9547 said 'Order 66 has been initiated' and we are to be executed for treason against the Republic?"</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- "I am fine. I was forced to put some troopers to sleep as they tried to gun me down and I am in my room collecting some things should we need to break away from the ship. CC-9547 said 'Order 66 has been initiated' and we are to be executed for treason against the Republic?" What the crik was Order 66?... Bocri was having a hard time processing; between having just vented nearly three hundred people into space that he had known on a first name basis, the pain in his shoulder, and the slowly dawning knowledge that all the pain he had felt through the force was likely his Jedi comrades being slaughtered. "I want to say they can't be serious but after what just happened down here..." His words dropped away as he hissed in pain. He drew a kolto bandage from his belt, one of the two he had, and worked it into place over his shoulder. The soothing sensation began at once and he swung his arm a couple times to ensure he could move freely. They were hardly out of trouble yet. "The rest of the clones will be looking for us." He said as he projected his thoughts to Hirani once again. "We won't be able to get off this ship as long as they control the bridge. They'll blow us out of space." He glanced up the steel plating above his head. The bridge was a long run from where he was, but not so far from Hirani. Between him and that bridge, somewhere on this ship, were another three hundred clones, give or take however many Hirani had dealt with. Perhaps if he got into the main ducts? Not an original idea, but one that will skip the majority of the clones, I hope. He was musing to himself as he looked upward at the roof of the control cabin. One of the first things he had done when he came aboard was familiarize himself with every aspect of the ship in the off chance they had to repel boarders. Well, now he was the boarding party. "Can you make it to the bridge?" He asked Hiarni. "I am going into the ducts and will make my way there. Will you be able to meet me?" It was a chance, but it was the only one they had at the moment. He ignited his lightsaber, cut a hole in the ceiling, and leapt effortlessly into the vent above him; he began to run.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- "I want to say they can't be serious but after what just happened down here…" Hirani shared his sentiment, but something was just horribly wrong. A power play had been made from pieces they didn't even know were on the board. Through their bond, she felt the trickles of the pain he was feeling but she was confident it wasn't something that he couldn't handle on his own until she could see to him. As a healer, she couldn't help feeling compelled to see to his injuries at that moment. At this feeling, she finished packing her bag quickly, clasped it securely and flung it over her shoulder. They had to get to safety first. The familiar call of Bocri reached out to her again. "The rest of the clones will be looking for us. We won't be able to get off this ship as long as they control the bridge. They'll blow us out of space." Hirani sent her consciousness towards the bridge. It was only two floors above her with limited personnel inside but heavily protected by blast doors that would magnetically seal if engaged. She was no splicer, so hacking her way in wasn't an option if they were locked. She could melt the door slowly with her saber, but that would leave her vulnerable. Her last option would be to infiltrate the minds of one of the clones inside to make him open the doors for her, it was the fastest outcome for her. "Can you make it to the bridge? I am going into the ducts and will make my way there. Will you be able to meet me? "Yes, let's hope the doors aren't locked when we get there. Otherwise, it's not heavily manned if you have to take it by yourself. Just enough clones needed to monitor the ship and maintain our position in orbit." she replied. Hirani tightened the strap of her bag so that it wouldn't swing wildly across her body as she moved and called to her right hand her saber that she had placed on the bed when she first re-entered the room. She stepped out into the hallway once more and borrowed the keycard from CC-9547's unconscious body so that she could hopefully access the bridge without alerting the pilots inside. As she took her first step away from the sleeping clones, she willed her body to move faster and force sprinted the rest of the way to the elevator. At its doors, she swiped the borrowed key card against the reader to instruct the machine to open. The clones must've taken it to her floor. Ding. The doors slowly opened to reveal the empty booth and Hirani extended a purple hand to the panel to direct the elevator to the top floor that housed the bridge.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri could have hugged whoever designed the Republics military fleet. The vents were large, not big enough for him to stand upright, but certainly large enough for him to move through at a quick jog while doubled over. "Just enough clones needed to monitor the ship and maintain our position in orbit." Hirani was right, that meant there was still a considerable number of armed and dangerous troopers anywhere on the ship at this moment, and they were certainly looking for the two jedi. "Be careful, see you soon. He replied quickly even as he launched himself upward into the vents of the next level. He knew that Master Kenobi has tried a similar trick on a Federation battle cruiser and the crew had been unable to track them, he hoped the Republic had not thought to correct that oversight. His travel through the vents turned out to be a somewhat educational experience. There were multiple various types and it was quickly obvious he had chosen the heat exchange vents as blasts of hot air came ripping by on a regular basis. Sometimes it smelled of food, the galley venting, or sweaty feet, likely a sleeping quarters, once the smell of engine solvents, which could only be the small shuttle bay since the main bay was still venting into open space. From time to time he could feel the presence of clones as they searched the ship. Interestingly enough, he could sense a measure of fear and panic among most of them. It seemed that they were well aware that the loss of surprise was not working in their favour. Once he paused to listen as a squad passed below him. "They're both gone." "That isn't good. I heard the medics can't wake CC-9547 and his squad from whatever Master Hirani did to them." "I thought I had some idea of how strong they were, but I guess not. Five in a dead sleep we can't fix and hundreds vented to space by Master Bocri." Their voices faded as they passed on. Behind them they left feelings of terror and anxiety. Part of Bocri was angry at the situation, but he was fairly certain that the clones were not responsible for what was happening. Not that it mattered, the only friend he had left on this ship was Hirani. "Where are you?" He launched the question to Hirani. He could sense her closer now as he clambered up vents and gained deck levels. If he could join with her, they would be able to take the bridge quickly and quietly.</s>	<\|message\|>Hirani Blen "I am down the hallway from the blast doors to the bridge. Right outside the elevator doors." Hirani peaked down the crisp white hallway from her position around the corner towards the bridge as she communicated with Bocri. The entire floor was actually unoccupied apart from herself and the handful of clones that ran the bridge. She slid down the wall while turning her had back from the hallway to sit on the floor to meditate. The bag she carried was now positioned in her lap and was being used as a resting place for her clasped hands. Closing her eyes, the Jedi began to meditate. Through her trance, she began to take note of the positions of the clones, the remaining hundreds were scurrying about the ship like ants when you kicked their hill. The altered clones were filled with overwhelming anxiety and Hirani was starting to think that is was perhaps for the best. She didn't want to fight her former allies and had hope that they would be weary to confront the two Jedi. But she knew it was a foolish wish. These men were created to be an efficient army and they proved that they will follow any order given, no matter how cruel. Redirecting her consciousness to the bridge, Hirani began to familiarize herself with the thoughts of the clones inside. If she needed to, she could control the actions of one, befuddle the thoughts of them all for Bocri to execute an easy takeover, or she could also put these clones to sleep like she did to CC-9547's group which would be the most gentle route. She reached out to her human partner, "Bocri, I'm in a position where I can put the clones to sleep if you'd like? It would only take me a bit of time… "</s>
<\|description\|>Hirani Blen Age: 32 Home Planet: Corellia Details: Hirani is currently a Jedi Consular, gifted in the healing arts and a strong force combatant.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- With her task complete, the Jedi opened her eyes slowly to focus on Bocri. Without a second thought she stood to place a purple hand over the bandage on his shoulder and began to pour her own life energy into his open wound. The kolto infused bandage did a good job expediting the body's natural healing process, but she took it to a higher level. If one were to watch, they could see the wound close before their very eyes as muscle and skin cells reformed to become as whole as they once were before shot by a blaster. Hirani felt the pull on herself, as she always did when she healed, and left it so a faint scar was left upon his shoulder. It was nothing permanent and would rectify itself over time naturally. Once finished, she tapped his cheek gently with the same hand that she used to heal his shoulder. "Come, they're fast asleep." Hirani rearranged her bag to lay against her back and confidently turned the corner to walk onto the bridge of the Corellian Dawn. The twi'lek took a moment to appreciate the scene before her, a serene picture of deeply unconscious clones slumped in their chairs and sprawled over the consoles that controlled the every aspect of the cruiser. Despite the horrific circumstances that they found themselves in, Hirani was glad to have avoided killing any troopers herself so far but she knew it was like to change fairly quickly if they didn't find a way off this ship. "Bocri, will you help me to drag them outside before we seal ourselves in here?" As she voice her question, Hirani moved towards the closest clone and began dragging him from his chair to place him against the wall across the hallway.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri moved to help Hirani without comment. He was feeling far less charitable toward their would be assassins than his partner but murder wasn't something he could square with at the moment, well, not killing the sleeping men with a blaster bolt to the head at any rate. It took them several minutes to clear the bridge and he could hear the units from the lower decks continue to check in. They were becoming increasingly agitated with the lack of response from the bridge however and it was only a matter of time before they rushed back to check on their comrades. The last clone was heaved out onto into the corridor and the two jedi retreated inside. They hadn't spoken at all. Bocri was wrestling with his anger at the presumed deaths of so many comrades and was trying hard to keep a lid on the rage that was threatening to spill out. "Mind the door." He said as Hirani followed him back onto the bridge. It slammed shut as he triggered it, and then the blast doors closed a moment later. He moved across to another console and pulled up a screen, glancing at his companion who was watching him carefully. "I am going to turn off the artificial gravity, stand by." He tapped several commands into the console and a moment later the artificial gravity in the ship, everywhere except the bridge, shut down. He could see clones begin to float in the corridors they were patrolling and soon every room he looked at was filled with floating debris. "And now..." It took him but a moment to do what came next and it would stay with him for the rest of his life, however short it may be. He opened every blast door he could and shut down every magnetic field on the ship, save for the bridge. The whole process was meant to assist in fire fighting but at the moment it served just as well to vent the entirety of the remaining clones, including those in the corridor, into space.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- The tidal wave of fear that she felt nearly sent Hirani over the edge and into the abyss. The twi'lek stumbled forward into the blast door, gasping for air like the hundreds of remaining clones that were ejected into the void of space. She nearly forgot that they had been safe on the bridge and fought to regain control of her mind, body, and soul. While she had felt the previous clones that Bocri flung out of the ship, these individuals were much closer and thus able to affect her so. The only comforting thought was that at least the ones she put asleep wouldn't register the pain their body was going through as it died. Hirani inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled slowly out of her mouth. She could understand why it had to be done, but perhaps he could have warned her so that she could have shielded herself from their plight. Moving forward, she would have to place a barrier on her mind from passively feeling the emotions of others as Hirani could only assume things would get worse from here. What she could never shut out, however, was Bocri. Their bond prevented her from closing herself off from him and him from her. She could feel his anger and he would most certainly have felt her panic. Hirani opened her mouth to speak and croaked. Reaching into her bag, she grabbed her water canteen to help clear her throat. After two gulps, she tried again. "What is the plan now? It's not like we can use this ship or any of it's fighters to leave this sector." Her voice was husky, but functioning. She took another swig to help it along.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Despite his anger, Bocri was instantly aware of the pain that he has caused Hirani. He felt shame and regret at once, he should have warned her and at least spared her that sudden trauma he had just inflicted on her. On another day he might have drawn her into a hug but now was not the time, there would be a moment later when they had escaped in which they could sort out emotion. He offered her an apologetic smile and then tapped on the console in front of him. A number of Clone fighters were still out there, so far none of them seemed very interested in the ship as they were formed up some distance off the bow. There was really only one option left as far as Bocri could see it. He couldn't operate the turbolaser batteries, not in any efficient manner anyway. Jedi were skilled at many things, but operating technology over a distance was not one of them. The pilots were too far away for any sort of mind control, which only Hirani could manage anyway. "We crash the ship into the planet." He said quietly. "Set it on a collision course and then, as we get close to the surface, launch all the escape pods, with us in one of them. I'll call a mayday shortly and do my best to fake some sort of emergency to throw off the pilots out there, though I suspect that they will see the others floating in space when they come closer and likely think it's real." He paused and glanced at Hirani. "Does that suit you?"</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- "We have been together long enough for me to trust your judgement on such things." Hirani said simply as she joined him at the console, her voice having regained most of it's normal function. She could pilot her fighter and smaller vehicles well enough, but a vessel of the Corellian Dawn was beyond her skill. "So long as we don't crash and burn along with the ship, I'll be happy." The healer worked to make herself as neutral as possible and that task had significantly increased in difficulty since she became bonded with Bocri. Jedi are taught not to be ruled by their emotions and to improve themselves with knowledge and training, amongst an overall theme of being a guardian of peace. How one went about fulfilling that role was based on an individual's skill and affinity with the force. The twi'lek peaked at the monitor as it showed some functions she was familiar with and a lot more that she was not. "Is there… anything you need me to do?" she asked meekly, weary of the answer she would receive. She often found herself willing to put herself outside of her comfort zone for Bocri and the only other individual she had bonded with to this degree was her former master, a door which she shut tight deep within herself to keep the pain of their loss from resurfacing. Later, when they have found a safe place to rest is when she'll allow herself to mourn and process the emotions that she could not help to feel but suppressed in the face of the threat in front of them. Hirani had a creeping feeling that the trial set before them would test them to their very core. Would they still be able to uphold the Jedi Code or will they loose themselves to the dark side and the suffering that accompanied it?</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri touched Hirani's shoulder so that she looked at him and offered a weak smile. It wasn't much, but it was something given the situation. "Just trust me, as you always do, and hang on." He turned back to the monitors and for a brief second his reflection stared back at him. His skin, as black as ebony, made his shape look like a shadow, a shadow with a single red eye. His prosthetics would be hard to hide, but that was a problem for future Bocri. "Start jettisoning the escape pods, only one every minute or so, make sure one remains." He instructed Hirani as his finger danced over the console. The recon fighters that had been sent out would be returning soon and it was important that they have no reason to think either Jedi was still alive. The ship responded quickly to his touch as Hirani launched the first escape pod. He hammered the ships "may-day" beacon that would be begin broadcasting all over the sector. There were no other major Republic starships nearby, that much he was sure. The returning fighters would quickly run into the debris field of everything he had vented, including their comrades. That would be an unpleasant surprise but he was making this whole thing up rather spur of the moment. Red light began to throb throughout the ship at once and the scream of damage control sirens sounded beyond the bridge doors. Operating the ship was remarkably easy, all he had to do was set its course for the planet surface, override the emergency alarm, and then step back. With the magnetic shields locked open, no living soul save for a Jedi would be able to make their way onto the ship. Hirani was still launching escape pods as the ship began its turn, the dagger shaped hull rolling over until it was pointed directly down at the planet. He couldn't operate the self-destruct as they needed three codes, one from him, one from Hirani, and the third from the Captain, who had been vented into space. An oversight on his part. There were other ways to wreck a ship however. "Get into the escape pod." He directed Hirani as he walked unhurriedly over to vacuum tube that served to carry physical objects all over the ship as quickly as possible. He pulled four thermal detonators from the small bridge weapons locker. They weren't much, but they would be enough to start a chain reaction of bigger problems with the ship spinning out of control. He set them each for one minute and then launched them to various different parts of the ship; engineering, operations, the magazine, and the galley. His steps were considerably quicker this time as he hurried to the escape pod and climbed inside with Hirani. She pushed the launch button and a "whoosh" followed by a light thud told them they were on the way. They fell away quickly into space, arcing toward the planets surface. The time ticked by his head until the detonators exploded. The vacuum of space would serve to extinguish any real fires but it did nothing to prevent the chain reaction of other shipboard explosions that quickly rippled throughout the craft. Bocri wrapped his arm around Hiranis waist and held her close, his head resting on her shoulder, as they looked back out through the viewport. He could feel exhaustion coming and his shoulder still burned something awful. The closeness, and her own inate skills, serve to sooth some of his pain. Above them, two small pinpricks of light shot toward the wounded destroyer, the scouts had returned. He could hear their cries of confusion and concern over the comlink that he now pulled from his ear and crushed in his prosthetic hand.</s>	<\|message\|>Hirani Blen The twi'lek followed Bocri's lead, removing her own comlink from her right ear cone and making the device float in the air momentarily before it seemed to collapse in on itself as Hirani used the force to destroy it. With that taken care of and the crumbled ball of metal discarded to the floor, she turned her attention towards the man that held her. Now that they were under less stress, his body was no longer producing the chemicals that allowed him to ignore the pain in his shoulder and maintain the high energy level needed for him to survive the betrayal they just experienced. She didn't know what awaited them once they reached the surface, so Hirani did what she could and tapped into herself to pour her life force into him so that he would at least no longer feel exhausted. The wound on his shoulder would take longer to rectify and they didn't have that luxury at the moment. It had been only a few minutes since they jettisoned from the ship but the pod was fast approaching the planet and they needed to be strapped in before they made entry to the planet. Hirani turned her face to his, her purple cheek stopping just short of his nose. "Bocri, we need to strap into the seats before the pod starts entering the atmosphere." The Jedi slid his arm from its embrace around her waist and mirrored her movements towards the seats lined along the walls of the escape pod. The bonded pair managed to strap themselves in just as the pod began to hit the outer layers Kijimi's atmosphere and the ride suddenly became a whole lot different. The transition from open space into the layers of gas that enveloped the planet was a violent one and the pod shook uncontrollably as it traveled through the atmosphere. The internal temperature rose several degrees as the outer protective layer lit ablaze with their entry. Hirani gripped Bocri's natural hand in her purple one for comfort… she was nervous. While the pod itself was well designed to withstand the pressures of landing, it wasn't designed to do it in any way that would be considered comfortable and in the mere minutes it took to reach the snowy surface of Kijimi, it only slowed down just enough for them to not disintegrate on it's rocky impact with the planet. The straps of their safety belts kept them from flying into the front of the pod but will definitely leave bruises on their bodies to later remind them of their ordeal. Hirani moaned softly in pain, her hand still tightly gripped to Bocri's as the flickering lights of the cabin fought to stay on.</s>
<\|description\|>Hirani Blen Age: 32 Home Planet: Corellia Details: Hirani is currently a Jedi Consular, gifted in the healing arts and a strong force combatant.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri touched Hirani's shoulder so that she looked at him and offered a weak smile. It wasn't much, but it was something given the situation. "Just trust me, as you always do, and hang on." He turned back to the monitors and for a brief second his reflection stared back at him. His skin, as black as ebony, made his shape look like a shadow, a shadow with a single red eye. His prosthetics would be hard to hide, but that was a problem for future Bocri. "Start jettisoning the escape pods, only one every minute or so, make sure one remains." He instructed Hirani as his finger danced over the console. The recon fighters that had been sent out would be returning soon and it was important that they have no reason to think either Jedi was still alive. The ship responded quickly to his touch as Hirani launched the first escape pod. He hammered the ships "may-day" beacon that would be begin broadcasting all over the sector. There were no other major Republic starships nearby, that much he was sure. The returning fighters would quickly run into the debris field of everything he had vented, including their comrades. That would be an unpleasant surprise but he was making this whole thing up rather spur of the moment. Red light began to throb throughout the ship at once and the scream of damage control sirens sounded beyond the bridge doors. Operating the ship was remarkably easy, all he had to do was set its course for the planet surface, override the emergency alarm, and then step back. With the magnetic shields locked open, no living soul save for a Jedi would be able to make their way onto the ship. Hirani was still launching escape pods as the ship began its turn, the dagger shaped hull rolling over until it was pointed directly down at the planet. He couldn't operate the self-destruct as they needed three codes, one from him, one from Hirani, and the third from the Captain, who had been vented into space. An oversight on his part. There were other ways to wreck a ship however. "Get into the escape pod." He directed Hirani as he walked unhurriedly over to vacuum tube that served to carry physical objects all over the ship as quickly as possible. He pulled four thermal detonators from the small bridge weapons locker. They weren't much, but they would be enough to start a chain reaction of bigger problems with the ship spinning out of control. He set them each for one minute and then launched them to various different parts of the ship; engineering, operations, the magazine, and the galley. His steps were considerably quicker this time as he hurried to the escape pod and climbed inside with Hirani. She pushed the launch button and a "whoosh" followed by a light thud told them they were on the way. They fell away quickly into space, arcing toward the planets surface. The time ticked by his head until the detonators exploded. The vacuum of space would serve to extinguish any real fires but it did nothing to prevent the chain reaction of other shipboard explosions that quickly rippled throughout the craft. Bocri wrapped his arm around Hiranis waist and held her close, his head resting on her shoulder, as they looked back out through the viewport. He could feel exhaustion coming and his shoulder still burned something awful. The closeness, and her own inate skills, serve to sooth some of his pain. Above them, two small pinpricks of light shot toward the wounded destroyer, the scouts had returned. He could hear their cries of confusion and concern over the comlink that he now pulled from his ear and crushed in his prosthetic hand.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- The twi'lek followed Bocri's lead, removing her own comlink from her right ear cone and making the device float in the air momentarily before it seemed to collapse in on itself as Hirani used the force to destroy it. With that taken care of and the crumbled ball of metal discarded to the floor, she turned her attention towards the man that held her. Now that they were under less stress, his body was no longer producing the chemicals that allowed him to ignore the pain in his shoulder and maintain the high energy level needed for him to survive the betrayal they just experienced. She didn't know what awaited them once they reached the surface, so Hirani did what she could and tapped into herself to pour her life force into him so that he would at least no longer feel exhausted. The wound on his shoulder would take longer to rectify and they didn't have that luxury at the moment. It had been only a few minutes since they jettisoned from the ship but the pod was fast approaching the planet and they needed to be strapped in before they made entry to the planet. Hirani turned her face to his, her purple cheek stopping just short of his nose. "Bocri, we need to strap into the seats before the pod starts entering the atmosphere." The Jedi slid his arm from its embrace around her waist and mirrored her movements towards the seats lined along the walls of the escape pod. The bonded pair managed to strap themselves in just as the pod began to hit the outer layers Kijimi's atmosphere and the ride suddenly became a whole lot different. The transition from open space into the layers of gas that enveloped the planet was a violent one and the pod shook uncontrollably as it traveled through the atmosphere. The internal temperature rose several degrees as the outer protective layer lit ablaze with their entry. Hirani gripped Bocri's natural hand in her purple one for comfort… she was nervous. While the pod itself was well designed to withstand the pressures of landing, it wasn't designed to do it in any way that would be considered comfortable and in the mere minutes it took to reach the snowy surface of Kijimi, it only slowed down just enough for them to not disintegrate on it's rocky impact with the planet. The straps of their safety belts kept them from flying into the front of the pod but will definitely leave bruises on their bodies to later remind them of their ordeal. Hirani moaned softly in pain, her hand still tightly gripped to Bocri's as the flickering lights of the cabin fought to stay on.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- An hour later the two Jedi were already a kilometre from the crashed pod, their tracks in the snow erased almost immediately by the wind that howled across the frozen landscape. Beyond them, in the far distance, a massive debris cloud was climbing into the sky from where the cruiser had slammed into the planet. Nothing could be seen of the ship but it took little imagination to know what the wreck was going to look like. Local scavengers would feast for months, if not years, on a prize that size. They wore survival suits from inside the craft. One size fits all and one suit fits all climates was a hopeful claim printed on the interior label. He doubted the manufacturer had ever left Coruscant. He was luckier than Hirani, the suits were designed for humans and not a Twi'lek; the downside of all the Clone troopers being of one species. Her lekku were wrapped in the salvaged pieces of a third suit and then crammed into her hood as best they could manage. That meant more of her face was exposed to the cold than they might have liked but at least they were alive. Kijimi was a remote, frozen, and mountainous planet, but it boasted one major settlement, Kijimi City. The pods programming had brought them well within walking distance of the city and only Bocri forcing it to land sooner had put them down beyond the actual edge of the city proper. They had agreed that arriving on foot would attract less attention than slamming into the ground within shouting distance of any buildings. Bocri brushed a hand at his eyelids as they threatened to freeze together. His mechanical hand, even inside the suit, was moving sluggishly under the onslaught of the cold. He would need to get into the warmth soon to make sure it hadn't been damaged during the fight on the cruiser. He would have cursed his bacta allergy if he hadn't done it a million times before. Hirani had taken the lead for the last half a kilometre and her pace quickened as the first out buildings of the settlement now came into view around an icy outcropping. Bocri plowed after her, sinking almost up to his hips in snow that barely seemed to reach her ankles. He was physically and mentally exhausted. If they were attacked again right now he would be utterly useless to Hirani. She stopped as the building took shape from a dull grey thing in the driving snow to a more substantial looking structure. It had small recessed windows that glowed light and, judging from the size, could fit several families, if it was a house. There was only one way to find out. "Lead on, oh fearless one." He spoke at a normal level but brought his mouth close to the side of her head. The wind might be strong but it was blowing from behind them and would easily carry his yell into the settlement.</s>	<\|message\|>Hirani Blen Bocri's breath brushing against the side of her frozen face was a much-welcomed warmth from the blistering cold that was Kijimi's climate and the twi'lek subconsciously leaned towards the heat he provided. While Hirani was desperate to be out of the cold, the betrayal they had experienced was fresh on her mind and she was weary of the building that stood before her. It was one of many that were the first buildings to outline the city in an attempt to protect the inward inhabitants from the raging snow storms. With her gaze focused on the door, the Jedi slowed her breathing, every exhale producing a fog from her full lips as she slipped into a meditative state. She let go of her physical discomforts and instead focused on the consciousnesses that inhabited the building in front of them. Hirani gently brushed against the thoughts of the individuals that inhabited the building with a touch so subtle that only those gifted with enough awareness could detect her infringement upon their surface thoughts. They were mostly poor families that had immigrated to the planet, a mixture of choice and unfortunate circumstances, that lived every day counting their credits to have enough to survive. None of the people inside appeared to have thoughts in regards to the two survivors or their circumstances. It would seem word of their predicament hasn't spread further than the clones that now drifted lifelessly in the infinite vacuum of space. Hirani came back to herself as she raised a white-gloved fist to knock heavily on the front door. The twi'lek hoped that the landlord would open the door themselves and be able to offer affordable vacancy where they can get out of the cold into a space safe enough for them to brainstorm their next steps. Her knock should have been loud enough to be heard above the howling winds and at any moment the door should open. Turning face toward Bocri, she filled him in on what she had discovered. "This seems to be a residential building, I can feel many families inside…" As the last words left her mouth, the front door opened to reveal a human man whose dark brown eyes were focused intently on the two Jedi on the doorstep. A fur-lined hat covered whatever hair he may have had on his head with long flaps that covered his ears from the elements and he wore a heavy unzipped jacket that covered most of his plain unassuming clothes. "What can I do for you travelers?" his question was weary, filled with suspicion and mistrust for the people in front of him. The galaxy was a cruel enough place for him to be so cautious. "We are sorry to disturb you, are you the landlord of this building?" Hirani was sincere when she spoke and was making herself appear like a stranded person rather than someone on the run. "Why do you ask?" the man asked gruffly, crossing his arms and leaning into the doorframe. "My partner and I had chartered a cargo ship for transport back to Alderaan and some of the ship's parts ended up breaking down along the way so we are stranded on the planet while it is being repaired or we manage to find another ship off-world. It would be at least be a month before we can move on and we were told we could possibly rent an empty room amongst the city's outskirts that would be significantly cheaper than renting rooms closer to port..." As the Jedi spun their tale, she used the best of her natural persuasive abilities without taping into the force to soften the man to their plight. She didn't like to push her influence on others unless it was absolutely necessary so Hirani got very good at getting what she needed without the use of mystic abilities. The man scratched at his brown hair underneath his hat as he listened to their story and while he tried not to show it, his features softened a bit as he absorbed everything the twi'lek had to say. A man who ran a building for families to rent couldn't be so cold-hearted as he tried to appear. "Well, come inside from the cold. It sounds like you've already had your fair share of problems and by the looks of it, you're freezing in those shitty emergency suits they let you borrow to come out here. Cheap merchant bastards. I can rent you a room and can put you two on a monthly renewable lease while you wait for your way off-planet. I don't entirely trust you, so your rent will be due the first day of every month and if you leave before the month is up, you're not getting refunded any credits." As he spoke to them, he moved from the doorway to let the two Jedi into the building and into the warmth it provided. While the interior was plain and made of the most affordable material that could be found, it was well maintained and the halls appeared to be cleaned regularly. The man in front of them seemed to take a lot of pride in his building and likely wouldn't take well to anyone who tried to disturb his business. As they walked and climbed the four flights of stairs to reach the top floor, he explained the general rules of the building that would be easy enough for the pair to follow as they definitely wouldn't be looking to draw attention to themselves with loud noises, destruction of their apartment, or suspicious comings and goings from the building. "This room was recently vacated, so I can let you two use it for your short-term stint before finding a permanent resident to take it since you don't plan on sticking around. My name is Kodo and you can find me in apartment one on the first floor." As he spoke, the man slid a keycard into the door of the last room on the top floor. The metal plaque screwed into the door read '28' in bold black numbers. The door lead into the living space that shared an open floor plan with the kitchen and dining space. Towards the back right of the room were two doors that must have led to the bathroom and single bedroom. "I'll leave you two to take a look around, but you'll probably want to get yourselves a few furnishings to make yourselves comfortable. When you're ready to do so I can give you the name of the guy I give abandoned furniture to and maybe he'll cut you a deal. He's pretty good for a Rodian..." The man trailed off at the end of his sentence, looking like he wanted to ask more questions now that he saw the pair in better lighting but Hirani could see he was familiar with keeping such questions to himself when it came to newcomers. Instead, he reached out to give her the keycard since she had spoken for the pair. "Here's your key card. It will let you through your room and the front door only." The twi'lek gently took the extended card with a purple hand and thanked the man for allowing them the use of the room. He gave both Jedi the full weight of his gaze before giving them a short nod and leaving them to their own devices in the empty room. Kodo must have been content with whatever he saw in them.</s>
<\|description\|>Alyona Yenina Age: 18 Grade: Remedial High Schooling (Mephisto's) files.catbox.moe/gi2spk.png I'm dumb so the image is probably too big to embed well so here's the link. She dyes her hair often, but never tries out the color red. Biography: Alyona was born with a twin sister. In some cruel ploy of the gods, one twin was given the powers of a holy relic, while the other became a bearer of unholy curses. While one grew normally and healthily, the other was thin and barely grew at all. Despite her royal birth and family, she was excluded from participating as soon as her powers were realized. Bringing misfortune everywhere she walked was enough for her family to isolate her, and she soon felt resentment towards them without exception. Despite the family's wealth, she knew that she would be the last person in line to inherit anything. So she eschewed her family, dying her hair different from her twin sister, taking with her anything she could steal and running away to try and find a different way of life. After all, if all she can do is bring misfortune, maybe she could find a way to use it to her advantage. Alyona has embraced her life as a walking curse. She assumes by default that people will not like her - so she better get what she can out of them before they realize what she actually is. She fled her home country with some stolen family treasures and is determined to chase her own dream in Rhea with a fresh start. She has it all, a nice apartment, a good roommate, and... mandatory schooling due to her lack of transcripts and poor testing scores. Has a childlike fondness for sweets. Powers: Core Power: Unholy Vessel - Alyona was blessed by a goddess of curses and misfortune. Some would say that the essence of curses is weaved within her mortal form. Her presence brings poor luck to those around her. Perhaps because of this curse, her body is much different from her stockier twin. Secondary Power: Aegis of Misfortune - Alyona's existence is a form of curse. Negative effects such as curses have very little effect to her. However, positive effects have a diminished effect on her as well. She's so used to negative energy that positive kinds make her feel sick. Secondary Power: Cursed Touch - Alyona's curses can be extended to others with a touch. If someone is touched by Alyona for more than a few moments, the curses will prevent positive effects such as healing from affecting the victim for several minutes. Extended bouts of contact with her will prevent even natural healing and rest from aiding the victim. Secondary Power: Contaminant Bolt - Alyona's ranged attack are spears of pure negative energy. Containing the raw energy of curses, these weapons pass through physical barriers and leave no wounds, but sap the life force from their target. Hits to muscles will make them sore and stiff as though they have been worked without breaks. These spears can return the life force to Alyona, which heals her (one of the only positive effects that isn't reduced by Aegis of Misfortune). Relationships: Sasha Yenina - "...Don't say that name to me ever again." Name: Alexandria Sova Also goes by Andras files.catbox.moe/xv9ulb.png (She doesn't actually have a grimoire... yet!) Age: 16 Grade: 1st Year Laurels Biography: Alexandria Sova was always a bookish child, who often ended up driving people away through social awkwardness. It was a wonder, then, that she managed to become a part of a trio of tightly knit friends. Her Gift manifested strangely, allowing her to manifest thoughts, concepts, and images from her mind. This led to her forming a bond with another child who had a similar power. Protected by a brash third friend, they lived out their lives without a care in the world, conjuring forth images and scenes that were born from pure imagination. Until Alex went too far. Or rather, she was intrigued by some quirk in her gift she discovered while playing - and upon experimenting, was swallowed up by her own dream. She became bedridden, comatose, unresponsive. She only awoke over a year later, and even more time to become rehabilitated. But she had emerged changed from the long sleep, and her power was erratic, unpredictable, and so much more powerful. She claimed she had found the source of magic itself, something innate to the world, even more fundamental than the gods. Or so she says. Many keeping an eye on her noticed her power was manifesting things from her imagination, or from other things she had seen in the past, or even from games she enjoyed. They commented that she may have imagined or dreamed the entire thing up, and her power simply refined itself further to manifest her scatter-brained thoughts into, admittedly, real powers. The erratic and potentially dangerous nature of her power lead her to be privately schooled in managing her power alongside remedial classes to catch up with the classes she had missed. Alexandria's extended leave from consciousness, loss of sight in one eye, and newfound ability had perhaps intermingled for her to cultivate a new persona - that of a demon mage named Andras. While she tries to keep the facade up, it becomes clear to many that interact with her that she is simply keeping up some kind of delusion, or a stage persona to have for when she enters tournaments, or perhaps she just went a little crazy when she was in a coma. Powers: Core: The Root of All Magic Within Andras's eye there is a link to the source of all magic, beyond even the gods' domain (allegedly). She can use her inward eye to gaze at the Root, catching glimpses of spells at their primordial source (or so she says). These spells crystallize as softly glowing points of light, which Andras can manifest at will (actually has been observed, so probably true). She can cast these spells using the points of light, which she usually calls "cards" (most cards in real life don't glow and float in midair). The behaviors officer that put together her file after working with her wrote: "Alexandria's power seems to let her manifest illusions of cards, like from a game, and use them to create actual magical effects. They seem to be 'drawn' from a large and random pool that may be expanding as she considers new effects. While in card form they have no real power, so they seem to be just manifest that way because of Alexandria's preferences. However, she has the ability to 'activate' them to 'cast' the effect of the card, consuming the card in the process. These spells can be from minor tricks, to powerful attacks, to granting supernatural abilities. Nearly impossible to say what she might be able to do from day to day. She seems to be documenting spells herself, but unfortunately a copy of the notebook she was using is not able to be secured. She was very adamant about not sharing it." Sub Power: Mana Bond Once per day, Andras can draw a card from the Root. She can increase the number of draws she gets from this power by forging a mana bond with a trusted friend. This is done through physical contact (like a hug or whatever) and lasts as long as both are okay with it. The bond does not impart any kind of drain on the friend. Andras is very hesistant to form bonds with someone she doesn't trust as a friend. When prompted why, she never really gives a straight answer, usually haphazardly talking about "grave prophecy" or "reality anchoring" or something similar. ...Maybe she's too shy? Sub Power (?): Forbidden Knowledge Andras's connection to the Root is seemingly becoming stronger over time, causing her to obtain more and more spells as she practices. The list of spells she has grows as she witnesses usage of gifts, magic, and her own dreams. Relationships: Wolf and Vera: "I-It's kind of daunting to face them now... A lot has happened since we were last together. But we're still friends, right? R-Right?!"</s> <\|message\|>Vera Goh --- Vera was astonished by the sudden wall of ice. The Alex she knew couldn't do that. Was this really her? But, eyepatch aside, everything fit. She hadn't even gotten that much taller. And, more importantly, no one else would have reacted this way. No one else would have cared. She held the smaller girl close, clutching her tight to her chest and kissing the top of her head. Vera couldn't help but laugh even as her voice broke, "Y-you still smell that that bargain brand strawberry junk..." she hiccupped. It was really her. Nothing else mattered for the moment. The ice wall, the crowd, all her questions. None of it. But, then the moment passed. "AHEM!" The MC boosted the volume so his voice could pierce past the wall of ice. "I'm going to assume there's a touching reunion of some sort going on in there, but we ARE trying to hold a tournament here!" Right. The tournament. This stupid tournament was where she'd found Alex. These people, this crowd, had all seen Alex before she had. Vera suddenly pulled away from her, "What are you doing here, huh?" CRACK! Outside, others were battering down the wall of ice. "How long have you been awake? When were you gonna tell us? Why was this more important, huh!?" Vere's face was still stained with tears, but now she just looked angry. CRACK! BAM! CRACK! Vera just stood there, fists and jaw clenched tightly as the wall came crumbling down. "OK! About time! Now, if we could just get things going ag-" "You wanted a fight, right?!" Vera suddenly shouted, interrupting the MC. She walked to the other end of the arena from "Andras" and raised her fists. "Well why not?! That's why we're all here isn't it?" This time, she just glared into Alex's eyes. "You know what? Screw it. Disqualifications are lame and this shit's better than a soap opera! Have at it, girls!"</s> <\|message\|>Michael Angie Location: Midnight Tournament @KillamriX88@AtomicNut Michael was curious to see how Andras' next match would go. It would be interesting to see what others cards Andras would use, hoping to gain some inspiration for other applications of his Symbolism. Unfortunately, it seemed there would be unforeseen developments as a pink-haired girl came onto the stage and knocked out Andras' opponent with little effort. What's more, the girl seemed to know Andras, and was shocked to see her for some reason. This puzzled Michael. Back when Andras was still recovering from her coma, she had briefly mentioned something about past friends, but could never get any more details than that. Now it feels Andras' history was catching up to her. Michael raised a hand in opposition to Parker's protest. "I say let her stay," Michael argued. "Anyone with eyes can see that nothing about this was planned. And besides, anyone who could get knocked out that easily wasn't going to be much of an opponent anyway. We all saw how easily Andras took out her first opponent, why would she need to cheat now?" Michael then tried to peer through the ice dome, still curious about Andras' history. She was never willing to share, and it had caused her great distress anytime Michael tried to probe into it, so he kept a respectable distance from the topic. Now it seems there was an opportunity to get some answers. Michael was originally going to put in a little effort and make a hole in the dome. Others, however, were not so patient and broke down the ice first. Michael was also going to ask a few questions of his own, but Vera's fiery temper caused him to stay his tongue. He wisely decided that he would wait until tensions died down before he would ask anything, especially as it now seemed that Vera would be Andras' new opponent.</s>	<\|message\|>Alyona Yenina Alexandria Alexandria was stunned for a moment at the sudden change in Vera's tone. Tears welled up in her eyes again. "W-What? You're asking that now?!" The image of Vera's face flashing with anger triggered... something. She couldn't remember where it came from. It wasn't from when she was awake, Alexandria felt. The murmur of the crowd coming back to front and center snapped Alexandria out of her thoughts. She wiped her face. Her gut felt twisted with anxiety, but she grit her teeth and ignored it. 'You idiot, Vera...' She thought. The burning of shame she felt at Vera's last question flared into anger. 'You didn't even want an answer, did you? Did you just ask that to hurt me? Will fighting communicate for you better?!' She couldn't back down now. As silly as it may seem, Alexandria- Or rather, Andras had a reputation to build. She couldn't go down without fighting. She wanted to become a known fighter - a demon in the ring. Andras's cards flashed into existence around her, and she grasped a spell and quickly cast it - a flurry of cards stretched out before her, and her eye scanned them all in an instant. There were the tools to win, here. She could see it. The cards flickered away. "You..." Andras cleared her throat. "Your challenge is accepted." She had a trump card. But she needed to use her other options first. "I hope you're ready..." Andras quickly flicked a card towards Vera - it was a minor spell, essentially a warning shot. The card cast itself into a bolt of sparkling energy, streaking towards Vera. Andras knew the spell wouldn't hurt too badly if it hit - not much more than a solid punch - but it would send the message that she wasn't going to hold back to Vera. She deserved that much.</s>
<\|description\|>Michael Angie AKA Michelangelo Age: 16 Grade: St. Laurel's School of Divine Excellence, 2nd year Biography: Michael grew up in a poor family with a single mother, who barely made ends meet to put food on the table. It wasn't much, but it was enough for the two to be happy enough. At least, it was enough, until one day a bully began to make his life miserable. The bully in question had influential parents as well, making it difficult to punish him. As a result, Michael couldn't do much to lessen the abuse he was receiving. He tried asking for help from friends and teachers, but both chose to look the other way. Coincidentally, the bully's father was also Michael's mother's boss, who was also undergoing some troubles of her own at work. Michael was left alone, with nothing but his family and the occasional stray animal for support. He liked animals, even if he couldn't afford to keep a pet. As time passed and everyone discovered their powers, the bullying only became worse. The bully had obtained a typical steel-skin super strength ability while Michael had ink coming out of his fingers. At first, it was torture. However, Michael was not completely helpless. While all this was happening, Michael did what he could to figure out how his power worked and how best to apply it. He worked and experimented tirelessly, and it eventually paid off. With his newfound knowledge, Michael was able to stand on equal ground against the bully, and even overpower him. The bully's father attempted to get payback, but the company found evidence against the father's various harassment and embezzlement cases, and he was promptly fired. Michael's mother was also promoted to a higher position, and the two were able to live more comfortably. With the bully out of sight and out of mind, things were looking up. Powers: CORE: The World is Your Canvas Michael can generate ink from his own body as will, and manipulate it as he sees fit. The ink travels quickly, allowing him to draw complex pieces that normal artists would take days in a matter of seconds. This allows him to create works of art that projects his will onto the world, limited by his imagination. Should he infuse his creations with power, the energy needed will come from his own body, and will be drained proportionally to the amount of power he wishes to infuse. The more complex and detailed pieces of art will allow him to infuse more energy than those he spends less effort on. However, if he does not have the energy reserves needed, he will drain himself dry and pass out. SUB 1: Symbolism By drawing patterns and/or symbols, Michael can apply a series of buffs and/or debuffs, involving things such as increasing physical stats and regeneration, as well as robbing people of their senses or freedom of movement. Inanimate objects are not immune from this effect, either, and can be weakened or strengthened accordingly. Given the right symbols and/or intentions, he can even duplicate certain powers, such as generating explosions or stretching one's body like a rubber band. Many details are needed for these powers to function exactly as Michael wishes them to, such as an AoE healing ability affecting only those he considers allies. His Symbols will last for as long as Michael wants it to (or at least for as long as he's conscious), and can be dispelled by him at any time. SUB 2: Creation Michael draws a picture of an object, and is able to construct said object into reality. These constructs will last as long as Michael wants it to (or at least for as long as he's conscious), and can be deconstructed by him at any time. Creations typically need to be drawn to a 1:1 scale to reach a desired size. SUB 3: Animation With additional effort, Michael can bring his creations to life, granting them basic sentience and absolute loyalty to him. Inanimate objects will float around, machines will function as Michael realistically imagines them to, and creatures will even be able to speak. The Mithril Paintbrush A Relic made by Erisse Augusta Narrativia, the Mithril Paintbrush has the power to enhance, as well as replicate, the power known as The World is Your Canvas; the enhancement increases the potency of each use of the enchanted ink by a third of the base power's original strength. However, the Mithril Paintbrush can also change the ink to various 'colors', each with an Elemental Attribute. Red and Orange - Fire. Yellow and Green - Earth. Blue and Indigo - Water. Violet - Poison. Grey - Air. White - Healing Light. This Relic can be used by anyone, but at reduced potency; they get a duplicate of 'The World is Your Canvas' at only one-third of the power's original strength (Moving ink is more sluggish, buffs are almost irrelevant, and creation takes a heavy toll on your energy), but can still access Elemental Attributes. Relationships: N/A</s> <\|message\|>Marmaduke Cashmere Duke watched the fight engagedly, sitting with his head in his hands as skill met strength. He could see Michael's glorious skills as paint practically flowed out of his suspiciously shiny paintbrush. The dark horse of the night slowly lost his ground, lost his strength, and lost his control. The arena cracked and the ground rumbled. The tournament was over. Duke got up and sighed. It was truly a shame, he had been looking forward to seeing who would win the fight. "'Scuse me, 'scuse me. Coming through, calm down everyone." The lanky teenager weaved through the crowd against the flow, towards the disaster zone. The area around the arena was quickly being vacated, which would make things convenient for him. Duke drew his knife. It was an ornate switchblade patterned with skulls and flame imagery, polished to a mirror's shine. It was a rather ordinary blade, in spite of its appearance. But Duke needed sharpness, and it was certainly sharp enough. Holding out his left palm facing upwards, Duke slowly lowered the knife tip down into his hand. He felt the familiar prick of the blade piercing his skin and dug deeper. He felt a small stabbing pain as blood pooled in his palm. He could feel a small spike of adrenaline shoot through his nervous system. Time seemed to slow down as he assessed the situation. The other participants of tonight's tournament would hopefully help out, though he wondered how effective they would be. They hadn't fought too much tonight, but their stamina had inevitably been dented. Still, he was sure they would provide some reliable support. Michael the painter, the round's other contestant, was in a bad spot right now. More than likely, the breaking of the arena would have knocked him off balance, and the dark horse was currently aiming to turn him into paste. This wouldn't do, this wouldn't do at all. Duke couldn't let one of the stage's stars get knocked out so early. The teenager grinned, removing his blade from his palm. The blood in his hand ignited into pale green flames, dyeing the boy's grin with an eery glow. He wound his arm back like a baseball pitcher, yelling "Fire in the hole!" as he threw the palm sized wad of fire at the fleshy student. The flames traced an arc in the air and splashed the back of the hulking contestant's head, setting his hair alight. It acted as both flame and liquid, one portion sticking on the student's head while the rest dribbled onto his back. "Hey big guy, I know I said I was rooting for you, but you just ended our night of entertainment. I can't let you get away with that." Duke said, taunting the enraged figure. He walked forward slowly with his hands in his pockets, a deliberate display of fake calmness. The flames burned on, sucking away at the contestant's energy, though in this state he probably had plenty to spare. "Would anyone else care to join me? If you do, please keep an eye out for my flames. I'm not responsible for what happens if you touch them." Duke declared loudly. @Scarifar@KillamriX88@Letter Bee@Dezuel</s> <\|message\|>Erisse Augusta Narrativia. Erisse Augusta Narrativia Erisse was beside Duke in an instant, Narrative Round of Familiarity activated right away. In her hands, she held an Anti-Materiel Rifle, which the woman apparently knew how to shoot. "This kid must have gotten some illegal steroids or Demonic help, or both," the woman said, "I know how to deal with this." And she fired at the rogue student's arms and legs, each shot enough to pulverize a normal limb into powder. Some would think this callous, as she was an adult and the kid was, well, a kid. But callous or not, Erisse was sensing that something truly vile was afoot and that she had to cripple this rogue student/fighter before he harmed any other person. And if that kid can regenerate his wounds anyway, well, that meant that she had no responsibility to hold back. "You know," she spoke, unable to hear her own words because she put on earphones beforehand, "Maybe that Suzakura kid was right and I should be doing this in a swimsuit..." She then belatedly handed Duke a set of earmuffs, "Earmuffs?" @Scarifar@AtomicNut@KillamriX88@Spin The Wheel@Crowvette</s> <\|message\|>Marmaduke Cashmere Duke noticed someone appearing next to him, but as he turned to look, a noise like an explosion burst out without warning. The teenager jumped to the side instinctively, falling to the floor. He looked to the source of the boom and saw a woman holding a large rifle. Duke stared at the woman, dumbfounded, before hastily turning his gaze away as she let loose a barrage of bullets, each shot lighting up the room in flashes of white brilliance. When the barrage finished, Duke removed his hands from his ears. The impromptu defense had protected him little, and his ears rang loudly as if in protest of the woman's mad shooting. He could see her offer him some earmuffs; her mouth moved but he couldn't hear a single word she had said. "Are you fucking-" Joking? Stupid? Insane? His mind had cooked up 3 insults to hurl at the woman, but with the aftermath of the gunshots still causing havoc his ears, it was impossible for him to know which one had come out of his mouth. Duke hastily got to his feet and snatched the earmuffs from her hand, putting them on in a hurry and backing away to a safe distance. If she was going to shoot again (and he was sure she would), he wanted some degree of safety. Bee</s> <\|message\|>Alyona Yenina Alexandria Alex was slowly inching towards Vera's vicinity when things went out of control. The center fight suddenly stopped, there was a commotion, and before Alex knew it her body was rocked by an ear-splitting blast, followed by another, and more. Each shot felt like a punch in her chest from the pressure of the gunshot. Alex had never heard a gunshot in person, let alone a high-caliber one fired indoors. It instantly sent her into a panic. Alex yelped in surprise, instinctively ducking down and covering her ears. She didn't know what was happening, but her mind focused on one thing: Getting Vera, and then leaving. Gritting her teeth, she ignored the ringing in her ears and got back to her feet, quickly scoping out where Vera was. There was a commotion, people moving, tables in the way. But luckily, Alex still had her lingering magical effects to lean on. She had an enhanced jump height, and the ability to fly. It was a simple matter for her to bound over the obstacles in her way, and beeline to Vera in midair. Alex was not quite versed in flight, however, and in her adrenaline-fueled burst of movement she did not quite allow herself the space to slow down, sending her careening towards Vera. She only had a moment to shout a warning to the unsuspecting girl before they collided. "Veraaaaaa!! Get down!"</s>	<\|message\|>Michael Angie Location: Midnight Tournament Michael was forced to use his alternate fighting style against his opponent, but it was evidently still not enough. Even with the Mithril Paintbrush augmenting his creations, that fighter seemed to power up and then rip off Michael's restraints. When the arena shattered from the fighter's blow, Michael lost his footing and fell to the ground. Looking back up, he could see that his opponent had raised a large chink of the arena floor above his head. Something wasn't right with him, though, as he looked like he was going berserk. Some bystanders even attempted to intervene. One in particular, Erisse, had summoned a gun and was currently blasting away at the fighter, each shot sounding off with a thunderous noise. Michael pressed his hands over his ears, wincing from the pain of his battered eardrums. Michael knew that this was not the place to be any longer, and began to make a getaway, scooting his way over to the arena edge and backing away from the scene. Fortunately at this point, it seemed Erisse was done firing, so Michael yelled out at her, "A little warning next time would be nice!" Then he realized his ears were still ringing, and it was difficult to even hear his own voice. Michael drew cross Symbols over his ears with white ink using the Mithril Paintbrush he received from Erisse, hoping it would be enough to restore his damaged eardrums. Fortunately they were, and they also healed other minor injuries on him, but not his fatigue. All the excitement from this tournament was finally taking its toll on him, leaving him quite spent on energy. He went over to a nearby stool and sat down, hoping he could get a chance to rest.</s>
<\|description\|>Michael Angie AKA Michelangelo Age: 16 Grade: St. Laurel's School of Divine Excellence, 2nd year Biography: Michael grew up in a poor family with a single mother, who barely made ends meet to put food on the table. It wasn't much, but it was enough for the two to be happy enough. At least, it was enough, until one day a bully began to make his life miserable. The bully in question had influential parents as well, making it difficult to punish him. As a result, Michael couldn't do much to lessen the abuse he was receiving. He tried asking for help from friends and teachers, but both chose to look the other way. Coincidentally, the bully's father was also Michael's mother's boss, who was also undergoing some troubles of her own at work. Michael was left alone, with nothing but his family and the occasional stray animal for support. He liked animals, even if he couldn't afford to keep a pet. As time passed and everyone discovered their powers, the bullying only became worse. The bully had obtained a typical steel-skin super strength ability while Michael had ink coming out of his fingers. At first, it was torture. However, Michael was not completely helpless. While all this was happening, Michael did what he could to figure out how his power worked and how best to apply it. He worked and experimented tirelessly, and it eventually paid off. With his newfound knowledge, Michael was able to stand on equal ground against the bully, and even overpower him. The bully's father attempted to get payback, but the company found evidence against the father's various harassment and embezzlement cases, and he was promptly fired. Michael's mother was also promoted to a higher position, and the two were able to live more comfortably. With the bully out of sight and out of mind, things were looking up. Powers: CORE: The World is Your Canvas Michael can generate ink from his own body as will, and manipulate it as he sees fit. The ink travels quickly, allowing him to draw complex pieces that normal artists would take days in a matter of seconds. This allows him to create works of art that projects his will onto the world, limited by his imagination. Should he infuse his creations with power, the energy needed will come from his own body, and will be drained proportionally to the amount of power he wishes to infuse. The more complex and detailed pieces of art will allow him to infuse more energy than those he spends less effort on. However, if he does not have the energy reserves needed, he will drain himself dry and pass out. SUB 1: Symbolism By drawing patterns and/or symbols, Michael can apply a series of buffs and/or debuffs, involving things such as increasing physical stats and regeneration, as well as robbing people of their senses or freedom of movement. Inanimate objects are not immune from this effect, either, and can be weakened or strengthened accordingly. Given the right symbols and/or intentions, he can even duplicate certain powers, such as generating explosions or stretching one's body like a rubber band. Many details are needed for these powers to function exactly as Michael wishes them to, such as an AoE healing ability affecting only those he considers allies. His Symbols will last for as long as Michael wants it to (or at least for as long as he's conscious), and can be dispelled by him at any time. SUB 2: Creation Michael draws a picture of an object, and is able to construct said object into reality. These constructs will last as long as Michael wants it to (or at least for as long as he's conscious), and can be deconstructed by him at any time. Creations typically need to be drawn to a 1:1 scale to reach a desired size. SUB 3: Animation With additional effort, Michael can bring his creations to life, granting them basic sentience and absolute loyalty to him. Inanimate objects will float around, machines will function as Michael realistically imagines them to, and creatures will even be able to speak. The Mithril Paintbrush A Relic made by Erisse Augusta Narrativia, the Mithril Paintbrush has the power to enhance, as well as replicate, the power known as The World is Your Canvas; the enhancement increases the potency of each use of the enchanted ink by a third of the base power's original strength. However, the Mithril Paintbrush can also change the ink to various 'colors', each with an Elemental Attribute. Red and Orange - Fire. Yellow and Green - Earth. Blue and Indigo - Water. Violet - Poison. Grey - Air. White - Healing Light. This Relic can be used by anyone, but at reduced potency; they get a duplicate of 'The World is Your Canvas' at only one-third of the power's original strength (Moving ink is more sluggish, buffs are almost irrelevant, and creation takes a heavy toll on your energy), but can still access Elemental Attributes. Relationships: N/A</s> <\|message\|>Michael Angie Location: St. Laurel's Academy The excitement of the Midnight Tournament had passed, and it was now another day. The morning arrived, and classes came and went. And Michael was bored. There was no combat involved in any of his lessons, unless he counted the history lessons involving the gladiators of old, which he didn't. As he walked, his mind raced to yesterday's events. He could still imagine every punch he threw, every Symbol pattern on his body, and even the fear he felt when his last opponent broke free from his art constructs. Then his mind wandered to a certain girl that also participated in the tournament. With her "demon" persona, the power her spell cards gave her, and even a certain misunderstanding on his part... Michael shook his head, blushing fiercely as he tried to clear his thoughts. He didn't want to believe it, but the beating of his heart forced him to confront his feelings. He didn't know when it started. It certainly didn't happen when they first met, nor when they first started hanging out together, but somewhere along the way, it happened. He had fallen in love with Alexandria. Still, Michael tried his best to repress them. He enjoyed challenges, but this was one he was not willing to deal with. In his mind, his goal for strength was his main drive in life, and these lousy teenage hormones were only distracting him. Lost in thought, Michael kept walking and almost crashed into someone, just barely swerving out of the way. "Agh, dammit, sor-" Michael was about to apologize before he got a good look at who he had almost walked into. Alexandria, just the girl plaguing his thoughts. And from the looks of things, she wasn't doing so well. She was barely shuffling around rather than walking. Michael hoped she had gotten something to eat at least. He may not have wanted to deal with his emotions, but he could never turn away from someone who looked like they needed help. Quickly catching up to Alex, Michael cried out, "Hey, Alex!" and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you ok? You don't look so good."</s> <\|message\|>Alyona Yenina Alexandria Alex had bumped into someone, and nearly stumbled into an epic spill before they caught her. For a brief moment, she wanted to go limp, allowing the person that grabbed her to do all the work of keeping her standing - but she resisted the urge. Then she heard their voice. "M-Michael?! Is that you?" Alex spun around, looking as though she might ascend from her mortal body at any moment. The sudden turn gave her a headrush, and she found herself teetering forward, coming to a rest on Michael's chest. "T-This is it for me... Please... Look after my mobile game accounts..." Alex for a moment felt like she might fall asleep standing up, in this brief moment of rest against Michael... Then she snapped awake, realizing what she was doing. Quickly straightening up, she took a quick step back. "Bwah?! I'm so sorry! I-I'msorryIdidn'tsleepatallandI'mstarvingsorryforhuggingyouI'mdealingwithalotrightnowsorrysorrysorry!!!" This was too much for her poor heart; Alex covered her face with her bag, which promptly opened due to being half-fastened, spilling her papers and folders all along the floor.</s>	<\|message\|>Michael Angie Location: St. Laurel's Academy "A-Alex!?" Michael stuttered in surprise as he caught her, his heart beating rapidly as Alex practically collapsed onto him. His mind was blank, unable to function from the sudden development, and all he could do was stare at her. Fortunately, Alex came to her senses faster and decided to hide in her backpack. After a second more of his continued silence, Michael suddenly doubled over and burst into laughter. Yeah, that was the Alexandria he remembered. Not the idealized version of her that kept popping up in his mind, but a simple girl who performed such silly actions. Michael crouched down and began to pick up her papers. "I'm not mad, Alex," Michael reassured her. "But really, you should take better care of yourself." Handing over the papers and folders he had collected back to Alex, Michael continued, "Come on, take that thing off your head. And seriously, quit making me worry about you so much." Then he realized what he was saying. Clearing his throat, he said, "I- I mean, um..." Thinking quick, Michael reached into his own backpack and handed over to Alex a small plastic container with a basic homemade lunch inside. It was his own lunch, but he was willing to part with it, especially since it seemed Alex needed it more than he did. "Here. You, uh, said you hadn't eaten, right? K-keep your strength up," Michael said, turning away as he blushed fiercely.</s>

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<\|description\|>Loreena Altera Age: 21 Bio: Loreena was the second child born to Harold and Tiana, a bit of a surprise so soon after the arrival of Annalise. She was a bit of the opposite of her elder sister, darker in hair and skin and also possessed a disdain for all things court related as she grew out of the nursery. She loved her books, often sneaking down into the library and reading long into the night. She devoured books like a starving man would a loaf of bread, and it was discovered that she possessed an eidetic memory, making her classes a breeze for her, though it seems like applying her knowledge to real life provided a challenge. Lore was also the first, and seemingly only, of her sister to show any skill in magic, swiftly coming under the tutelage of the royal mages. She is able to pick up a skill quickly, but mastering it takes time. Her most secret and ardent desire is to go on an adventure. To visit a far off land, to learn new magics from various teachers, and to write an adventure story of her own. For this reason, she is, perhaps, the most interested of her sisters in the plan their father laid out for them to marry one from a different kingdom. As long as he has books, or doesn't mind her building a library, and a sense of adventure, she will be content.</s> <\|message\|>Jinayah Altera "The sword?" Jin searched her mind for a suitable word in Prodzy, but she was coming up empty. Did the word not exist, or had she just forgotten? "Longsword." She finally said in Astalian. Switching back to Prodzy, she approached Vyarin carefully. After all, he did have a blade in his hand that he didn't know how to use. Sir Arnold had always beat it into their heads that an untrained novice was sometimes more dangerous than a trained professional. You had no idea what they could do. "Please to excuse." She gently gripped his hands and adjusted them on the hilt. "Better now." As far as she had read, Prodzy had plenty of weapons. So why was this one so curious to him? She would have to get with her sisters and ask them to translate better. Speaking of sisters – "Ah, wait! The Court of Flowers is waiting on us!" She looked down at herself. There was a bit of a mess on the very edges of her gown, but there was no time to change into another. Sighing softly and trying to rearrange her hair, she nodded to Vyarin. Briefly in Prodzy, she explained. "Come, follow!" Then she headed back inside, making sure Vyarin was somewhat behind her. With her short legs and his long ones, he could easily catch up. She led the way to the Court of Flowers, and paused once more before entering the area proper. There were going to be looks, she knew. But if they were to be her new brothers, and one a husband, they'd find out eventually. Best to discuss her proclivities on her own terms. Striding in with squared shoulders, Jin smiled warmly at all present. "Sorry I'm late. But I found one lost prince!" Seeing wine glasses already tabled (and some empty), she picked one up and took a sip. It was stronger than any they'd let her have before. Only a few years ago, they had been watering down her wine with meals. Was she suddenly such an adult now? Seeing Sulhana with that mischievous cat look on her face, and Annalise nearby, she went to Loreena instead. "Hi Lore. Having fun yet?" She curtsied briefly to Uriah as well. He wasn't royal, but his status garnered a lot of respect in her eyes. "I got… a little sidetracked. Do you think it'll be too noticeable?"</s> <\|message\|>Vyarin Kremazov The Court of Flowers was well named, Vyarin thought, as he lumbered into the moderately sized meeting hall, adorned with flowers hanging from baskets all along the walls and peeking up from long vases an entire two thirds his own height. Heads of red and gold, violet, white, even pale blue clear as the sky bowed in solemnity as the shamans do. If they had arms, perhaps they would be raised above their heads as well, until the lack of blood left them white and hard as the branches of trees. Perhaps these flowers as well were of a mystical nature? Many things were in this land of the southeast, far from the natural ebbing of the spirits. They weave the world with their 'sorcery', raising large works of stone tall as mountains such as the building within which he stood right now. Recalling his amazement as he passed under the gates, he recalled how the entire estate seemed to grow out of the ground. What a marvel it was! He imagined taking some of this sorcery home with him, and transforming the entire cityscape with its power. Would they remember him as Vyarin 'the Magnificent' for his effort? The others had arrived first, sharing conversation amongst themselves sat about a table. Golden chalices were displayed in some of their hands, filled with a dark liquid that looked unlike any juice he had ever had or seen. Some turned to meet his new, sprightlier acquaintance as she bounded in, which inevitably led their gaze towards himself. Whether they were looking or not, Vyarin gave a small and curt nod to the six others, then ambled over to a corner of the table and swiped one of the chalices, lifting the contents to his nose and sniffing. That's when he realized what it was. It was forbidden, he knew. The shamans said again and again, for as long as he could hear them. That which is rotted has been given to the spirits, and is beyond its time for the world of men. This was Essence of the Rotted Grape! He could have stumbled at the noxious odour. Did they not realize that by its imbibing they become cursed? Surely they must know better, he thought, glancing at the faces of these merrymakers. Mayhaps it would not be so bad, that they would enjoy it and fear naught. Things were different here, after all, in these lands of magic and mystery. If he were to one day take charge of their armies, he must then learn to live as they live, and if that meant drinking this product of rot, then he could do so without too much concern. The spirits would understand, he concluded, as he lifted the chalice again to his lips and sipped of the fluid. It was a mistake, in the end. Gasping and reeling, he sat the cup down with a too-loud clang. It tasted as foul as it smelled, too bitter and thick and somehow wrong on a level fundamental to his soul. He felt dirty, the dregs that remain swilling under his tongue. He leaned on the wall, whispering curses the sky in Prozdy, hoping nobody paid too much mind to his outburst.</s>	<\|message\|>Loreena Altera Loreena tilted her head to Lisse when her sister spoke of the Jördanian prince needing to be tested on his handling of liquor. Her eyes widened a little as she realized now what was going on. A drinking game! Lore herself rarely imbibed outside of a glass or so at dinner. She was always afraid of how it would make her behave, having heard the stories of people becoming angry and violent, of saying things they never meant nor remembered, and making fools of themselves by getting sick and clumsy. Nor did she know how it affected her ability to focus her magic. Until she had better control of her abilities, she feared what would result from any senselessness on her part. Such thoughts always worried Loreena, and as a result, she kept her wine consumption to a minimum. Lore was about to respond when Lisse turned to Uriah and asked if his student could be excused from a day of training. This made the smile fade just a little from Loreena's lips, and her gaze passed from Erick, to Lisse, to her mentor. The mage gave a deep, respectful bow to the crown princess as he was addressed. "Your majesty, as I told my pupil not long ago, I am no tattler. I am here to see to the magical welfare of charge. How you choose to celebrate this joyous occasion is not for me to judge. And as for being excused from lessons, the decision has always rested on Loreena's shoulders. I may always be found in the gardens in the mornings, and it has been your sister's decision to attend her tutelage as she pleases. That decision will always be hers to make." Lore's smile widened again and she cast a grateful look to the older man. "We shall see how the night progresses, Uriah. Thank you, my friend." Uriah smiled at Loreena and bowed once more to Lisse before returning to his musings. Loreena returned to the conversation previously with Erick. "I am honored that you chose to wear my jewel nonetheless, Erick. I chose each one in particular from the collection of gems and crystals that resonated with my magic. Although the Astalian blue topaz ended up being the strongest focus of my mage ability, this yellow chrysoberyl was of the purest clarity, and was a focus for me for a time. It still holds a bit of my power, a symbol of the bond you will share with our family." She heard the clatter at the entrance, and swung her head around to see the ruffled appearance of her youngest sister and the lost Prozdy prince. Judging from the flushed countenances, Vyarin had found Jiny's training yard! She watched as her younger sibling swiped a golden cup of wine. As Jiny approached, Lore embraced her warmly. "Feeling any better, dearest?" She queried, fixing a few errant locks of hair by swiftly removing a pin or two and giving the curls a deft twist and tuck. This relaxed the formerly prim and proper coif the maids had yanked Jiny's glorious hair into, and gave it the look of a lovely young woman who kept her hair away from her face as she wielded her sword. "Peace talks and alliances be damned. Sulhana and Lisse have officially declared war on our guests in the form of a drinking competition. Lisse has also bullied poor, old Uriah into being an accomplice to this affair..." she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "...and if ever there is going to be a night where father cannot insist you drink from the silver cups, tonight is the night." Loreena lifted her head when she heard Vyarin's....protests....against the wine. "Speaking of silver cups it seems..." She excused herself and walked over to a table, retrieving a silver cup, and approaching the man who was muttering angry sounding words in Prozdy. "Dro Vyarin? You are well?" She asked him, hoping he wasn't sick. "Gold cups hold Astalian..." She froze on the next word, struggling to remember. The tense and accent she would use could have a couple different meanings. "...Astalian 'old'...'brewed' grapes." She didn't know if she had used the right word. A glance to Uriah saw his back facing her, indicating she was on her own in this venture. Loreena had studied some language from the surrounding lands, mostly words pertaining to the history of magic in the various kingdoms. Prozdy was harsh for her to speak, the shape of her mouth would never let her pronounce the language perfectly, but she could converse a little. Offering the silver cup, Vyarin would see a golden amber colored liquid within. "Silver cups hold 'new'...'young' spiced apple." Lore hoped she was making sense to him. Looking to the others, she encouraged Vyarin to join closer to the group. "It seems Dro Vyarin will be the judge of the contest. We do need at least one person clear headed enough to determine a champion among this contest."</s>
<\|description\|>Loreena Altera Age: 21 Bio: Loreena was the second child born to Harold and Tiana, a bit of a surprise so soon after the arrival of Annalise. She was a bit of the opposite of her elder sister, darker in hair and skin and also possessed a disdain for all things court related as she grew out of the nursery. She loved her books, often sneaking down into the library and reading long into the night. She devoured books like a starving man would a loaf of bread, and it was discovered that she possessed an eidetic memory, making her classes a breeze for her, though it seems like applying her knowledge to real life provided a challenge. Lore was also the first, and seemingly only, of her sister to show any skill in magic, swiftly coming under the tutelage of the royal mages. She is able to pick up a skill quickly, but mastering it takes time. Her most secret and ardent desire is to go on an adventure. To visit a far off land, to learn new magics from various teachers, and to write an adventure story of her own. For this reason, she is, perhaps, the most interested of her sisters in the plan their father laid out for them to marry one from a different kingdom. As long as he has books, or doesn't mind her building a library, and a sense of adventure, she will be content.</s> <\|message\|>Jinayah Altera Jin relaxed considerably as Lore adjusted her hairstyle. Her sister's touch was very warm and soothing. It was so much nicer than when her ladies in waiting did it. They always made the bun too tight. "Much better, Lore. Thank you." She smiled widely and took a delicate sip of the wine. It was delicious, and quite powerful, and had a different scent entirely than what they usually had with dinner. Sulhana was always good at choosing that kind of thing. "A drinking contest, hm? I suppose I will join. Consider this my entry." While she had grown used to the nonalcoholic cider in the silver cups, today was apparently the day she became an adult. She took another careful sip of the wine and watched as Vyarin sputtered over his. What was that about? Was he going to be alright? Lore was already on it, so she turned her attention to Hana as she approached. "I wouldn't have run away. Not from this. I'm supposed to be the bravest of all of us, aren't I? So here I am." She chuckled as she was engulfed in a hug. There had always been a bit of the dramatic in Hana, spymaster or not. She had always been the one to make up stories as children. Her speaking of governesses and new-dress days with four less than earnest young ladies brought a sparkle to her eyes and a grin to her face. It had been simpler, yes. Much simpler. Jin actually lost composure and blushed when Sulhana mentioned the armor she had received. But she was surprised at her elder sister's advice. "You think I should have? Perhaps. Then the men would know what they're really working with, instead of… this." Sometimes the fancy gowns felt like lying. She approached Prince Gil, swept a curtsy and smiled. Before they could really get to talk, however, Hana announced that dinner was on the table. Despite her earlier nerves, the head-clearing workout from earlier had made her rather hungry now. It would be good to sit and eat.</s> <\|message\|>Gil Jalal --- --- Annalise's attention remained on Uriah as he spoke, basically confirming what she already knew. She smiled at the mage, giving him a nod before turning her attention back to her sister and Prince Erick who had started talking about Lore's gift to the man. The eldest daughter knew that of the four of them it was Lore who was far more interested in this deal than the rest of them. From what she had seen she was the most invested out of all the nobles gathered. Anna smiled at her sister as she spoke about the jewel gifted to the Prince beside her. Even she didn't know the little tidbit that her sister shared. When it came to magic most of it went over her head. As she was musing to herself in her head Jin entered the courtyard followed closely by the Prozdy prince. She was not surprised by her youngest sister's disheveled appearance. It was not the first time she had been late to an event in favor of her blades, and it certainly would not be the last. She was about to move toward Jin but Lore beat her to the punch. Ever the caring one she took to fixing Jin's hair and fussing over their younger sister. She did however chime in when Lore blamed her for the drinking competition. "Actually that was more Hana, and Prince Gil's decision. I was simply here and thought it sounded fun." She knew Lore and Jin were not the drinkers that Hana and herself were. Father often insisted that none of them partake in the wine or if they did that it be watered down, however, Hana was always rebellious, and Annalise had taken to drinking to prove that she was no different than any of the male members of the court. Not that it helped, she was still constantly fighting to be heard even though the country would be hers very soon. Her mind wandered to the suitors, and who of them would allow her to rule her country, who would stay out of her way. Gil, the third Prince who Hana had gathered had no interest in a position of power such as the ruler of a country seemed a good option. He however had carefully avoided talking to her since he had arrived at the courtyard. She was sure that in Gil's eyes, she was his last choice. She knew nothing of the elven Prince who had yet to arrive at the courtyard so she couldn't make any assumptions on him at this point. Erick seemed polite enough and he might be content to command Astalia's armies and remain out of the finer aspects of ruling the country. Though again, this was only speculation. Lastly was Prince Vyarin who was also more or less a wild card. She was sure that if she wanted to be underhanded about it she could use his limited knowledge of her language to her advantage for a while. She wasn't that manipulative though. She shook the thought out of her head as Hana approached them with Gil on her heels. At the mention of food her stomach growled, she hadn't had much to eat today, the nerves had gotten the better of her so any food in her system would be extremely welcomed at this point. She had almost missed what Erick had asked her, lost in her own thoughts. "Hm?" Was all that escaped her lips before her brain fully registered what he had said. She moved to take a seat across from him rather than directly beside him. It was a deliberate action, keeping openings for the other Princes to attempt to make a move, while still remaining close enough to Erick to still interact with him. She waited until Hana finished speaking to reply to his earlier statement and question. "Unfair you say? On whose side, mine or yours?" She cocked her eyebrow at him as her good eye looked directly into his, a very small smirk playing at her lip. "As for how I would test you, well that is simple, we must each finish the same amount of drinks by the end of the night, whoever holds their alcohol better is the winner. In other words, whoever is less drunk." She emphasized her point by finishing her own glass to make them equal. "If I win…" She paused to think. There were two ways she could do this, the light hearted way or more serious. After a moment she chose the more light hearted option. As much as she wanted to let him know that her country came first, now was not the time. "If I win, you have to tell me an embarrassing story from your childhood. And since we are declaring Price Vyarin the judge he will have final say on who is the winner. Of course you get to name your prize as well, within reason of course." The smirk was now prominent on her face as she carefully ate a bit of the food that was put in front of her, her stomach instantly reacting to finally being fed. Her attention moved to the entryway as the final member of this elaborate political game joined them. "Ah Prince Alvaro, happy you could join us. We were just about to eat, please, feel free to join us. Also if you are interested, we have some drinking games in place if you would like to partake." She motioned to the food and drink on the tables and also to the free seats. \| \| \| \| ______________________________________ \| \| --- Gil watched Sulhana as she spoke. He was about to respond when the youngest Princess and the Prozdy Prince entered the courtyard. His eyes traced over the pair. The large male appeared more than out of his element and the smaller female clearly disheveled. His curiosity peaked at the two of them. What exactly had they been doing beforehand? He didn't assume anything promiscuous but still, he wondered. He couldn't help but let out a chuckle when Sulhana mentioned him falling for her already. Though he didn't get a chance to respond before she was off to greet her sister finishing off her drink as she did so. He too finished his drink, not wanting her to get ahead of him and followed her. He did his best not to listen in on the conversation Sulhana had with her sister so instead he wandered off a bit to get himself another drink, returning just as Sulhana moved away to make a speech before offering food. He opened his mouth to greet Jin just as she started talking and closed it to allow her to speak. At the mention of food his stomach growled, realizing he had not eaten since before his arrival to the castle. He decided it was as good a time as any to get seated and get some food in his system, especially if he was going to be drinking heavily. He walked over to the table and pulled out a seat, offering it to Jin, more out of habit than anything else. "I could use some food, how about you?" He questioned the Princess politely. "Besides, if we are going to be drinking we should probably make sure we aren't doing so on an empty stomach." He smiled as he took his own seat, child-like excitement to eat some food, and hopefully taste some Astalian dishes. He hadn't even noticed the Elven Prince enter as he seated himself.</s> <\|message\|>Vyarin Kremazov Vyarin gratefully takes one of the silver cups, looking down into the well to see for himself. This did not look particularly different from the profaned drink of the gold cup, but an experimental sip told him that it was well and safe enough. Opposed to the chokingly bitter sample before, this was mild, sweet but with a spicy aftertaste. How did they manage that, he wondered? Did they crush apples into a chalice, and sprinkle in a dash of ground peppers? What an amazing culinary tradition this land of Astalia kept. His mind came alive with the most absurd things being served on a platter. Goat's livers covered in honey? Fresh honeygrass mixed in with fried horseflies? Entire frogs, stuffed full with stalks of raw grain? He was certainly willing to give them a try. "Let us go forth to glory," he sarcastically muttered in Prozdy, finally building up the courage to take a full swig from the spiced drink. It was a common phrase spoken before the consumption of a dinner. No man of the League would dare speak in the night preceding a battle. The various principalities that dotted the land were all unique in their own customs, but they all shared that much. The drink was strong with spice, so much so that he could feel particles of it scratch at his throat as it went down. It was powerful and uplifting, like the drink was made of fire, like it could fill him up with a fire's fury and he could raise fortresses with his own hands. Only guiltily afterwards did he realize he had taken the entire chalice in a single gulp, and was greedily eyeing another one. How unseemly of him, he thought to himself, pulling out a chair and joining the other heirlings as they gathered about the table, servants already melting away as they left behind them plates of resplendent, though disappointingly mundane-looking food. The other seven chatted eagerly amongst themselves, all they who were fluent in Astalian. Vyarin felt a frustration bordering on anger bubble up inside him. So long as he sat here, he was deaf in all the ways that matter. He imagined it to be not much different from wading into battle missing an arm. Perhaps he could pick up a word that appeared frequently enough. 'Wine, wine,' they said. That Astalian word appeared frequently, but he could not even begin to wonder what it could translate to. Was it marriage? That was their purpose coming here, after all. Perhaps they were speaking of arranging matches between themselves. Was it war? There are hushed mentions of a brewing war, greater than any skirmish between princes Vyarin would ever have seen, between this land and the great northern realm. He could not see any sign of worry on any other faces; they are mighty and stoic, these fellow heirlings, brave in the face of threat. What could this 'wine' possibly be?</s>	<\|message\|>Loreena Altera Seeing that Vyarin was back in sone assemblage of sorts, she withdrew a little. He had gotten the message, and seemed inclined to no further conversation with her, so she left him to his founderings. A soft sigh escaped her lips and as she saw Alvaro enter, she arranged her face in a smile and moved to intercept. A hand on her arm stilled her and she saw Uriah standing there. "You need not fuss over every single person here, child. It is not your duty." Loreena pressed her lips in a thin line. "I'm being obvious, aren't I?" "Excessively..." Uriah replied without preamble, ignoring the look of consternation from his charge. "Come, enjoy a meal." He offered his arm, beckoning Alvaro to have a seat and be served while he led Lore to a seat as well. The flowers Suly had planted glowed and shimmered like stars as they passed and the jewel on her neck glowed brightly a moment. A few murmured words had a golden chalice of wine lift from the tray held by a servant on the other side of the table and move steadily over the heads of the seated guests to her hand where she plucked it from the air and took a sip. Uriah smirked. "That's the Loreena I was waiting to see," he said quietly. Helping her to her seat, he withdrew some and sat nearby, as Sulhana made her grand speech. Lore lifted her chalice in a toast to Suly's words and to the assembled guests. "Hear hear, Sulhana! This morning we were strangers. Now we dine as friends. And may the days soon to come see us all as family!"</s>
<\|description\|>Alvaro image belongs to Heise Age: 19 Bio: Crown Prince of Lorien, Alvaro isn't like others around him. Though his father saw fit to ensure he was trained in the ways of magic and as a warrior to protect the Kingdom of Lorien, Alvaro always enjoyed the time spent with his mother and learning to listen to nature. Alvaro trained under his father's order until his body was broken, and even then he continued to hone his skill until he became the very thing his father wanted, a weapon. His mother's love kept him from being a vicious killer, not to mention his secret lover who leveled him out. Though kept a secret from his father, Alvaro's mother knew of his secret love with his father's most lethal warrior, Nairo. When the notice was received by his father to unite the Kingdoms via marriage with King Altera's daughter, his father was ecstatic, even though Alvaro's mother tried her best to talk her husband out of it, his word was final. Alvaro didn't want to disappoint either of his parents and sought only to bring peace to the land. After speaking with Nairo, he got his blessing to do what needed to be done. They shared an intimate night after the news to solidify their love. Sadly, Alvaro would leave and head to the Kingdom of Astalia, where he would live a lie for the sake of his kingdom and unity. Other: Alvaro is gay, but for the sake of his Kingdom, he will do what is necessary, at least he hopes he can.</s> <\|message\|>Jinayah Altera THWACK! From the back of the grand castle of Astalia, on the knights' target range, came the sturdy sound of an arrow hitting a target. Princess Jinayah, fourth and final in the line of succession, lowered her recurve bow and smiled. That arrow had hit dead center. Despite today being the end of her life as she knew it, her aim was as true as ever. That, at least, was comforting. With the smooth motion of a practiced archer, she nocked another arrow and let fly. The sea breeze hit it and it arced to the left, landing just to the side of her first shot. With a faint sigh, Jinayah lowered her weapon. She shut her eyes against the breeze and let it cool her. She'd been out since before the sun rose, and it was going to be a nice and warm day. Good weather for visitors. Visitors… It still made her stomach hurt to think of it. Slowly, she pulled the thick leather archery gloves from her hands, and sat herself against the cobblestone wall. She unclasped her rich plum purple cloak and folded it nearly across her arm. Perhaps if she started into the woods now, she'd be long gone before the foreign princes arrived. Even though the thought was extremely tempting, she would not abandon her sisters. They all had to stay strong. Even if they were going to lose what they valued most. Jinayah, for one, was going to miss these mornings. Nothing but the bow, the wind, and targets. Her father had been kind once, kind enough to have the crown tailors fashion her several sets of male clothes throughout her years. There had always been mutterings about her strange proclivities. When she had asked for a bow and to learn to use it, there had been complaints from various nobles. Luckily, her father heard none of them. The first day she showed up at the pages' practice area, confusion reigned. Jin had been seven then, just the same age as all the young boys hoping to make it to knighthood. However, there was one sympathizer – Knight Captain Theodore Arnold. He was the first person to treat Jin's wish seriously, and not as a passing fancy. He trained her day and night, helping to catch her up to the boys who had sword and bow as soon as they could walk. When she stumbled in last after a footrace, there had been laughter all around. When she smacked her face with the bowstring, there had been jeers. When she lost a swordfight, she was told to go back to her knitting. Nevertheless, she persisted. Jin put everything into her training. While her sisters learned needlepoint and singing and other "feminine arts", she practiced with the bow and blade. Soon, she could hit a target at 100 paces, dead center. Soon, she could win the footraces. Soon, no one could find a more graceful fighter. Soon enough, they all took the princess quite seriously. And now, all those years building up the respect and friendship of most of the young knights in the castle were all for naught. She would be leaving sooner or later, with her new husband. When the news reached the knights, they had thrown her a small party. She had cried, like a girl, to her own embarrassment. At the end of it, Sir Theodore gave her a custom set of armor. It fit her like a glove, and left her wondering just how much he'd had to bribe the royal tailors for her measurements. That was safely hidden in a secret groove in the stones behind her wardrobe. Hopefully she would get use of it before she had to leave for good. The sun was starting to peek over the trees now, and Jin knew her time was up. She headed back inside the palace slowly, taking several hidden routes that Sulhana had found ages ago. Still, her ladies in waiting were all… well, waiting for her when she entered her room. Also waiting was a steaming hot bath and the perfumed soaps she hated. Still, she was dunked in the bath and scrubbed clean. They clucked and fussed over her calluses and muscles, implying that her future husband would not find her soft enough for the night. She wasn't fully sure she cared. All too soon, she was headed downstairs to her father and sisters, in a gown the dusky pink of a rose, and about as soft. She smelled faintly of roses too, and the scent wrinkled her nose. She smoothed out her expression, and dipped into a low curtsy in front of her father and older sisters that had arrived. "Good morning."</s> <\|message\|>Loreena Altera Loreena had been up since the gray light of dawn. She knew it was Uriah's favorite time of day, before the sun illuminated the colors of the world, and life would begin to rouse and stir. The Court Mage would be found in the gardens at this hour, and Loreena herself was in the kitchen, warming a pot of tea for them. Today was a big day, the castle all in an flurry of preparation and excitement. Despite all of the pomp and circumstance, her teacher refused to release her from her lesson for the day. If she was to apply herself to magic, it needed to be a lifelong passion and pursuit. Loreena had shown no disappointment in his decision, despite his gruff mannerisms. Uriah had been her teacher and companion since she was 14 and her abilities had begun to manifest. He had tested all of the princesses as they came of age, but as of yet, only Lore had shown any aptitude for it. He had taken her education very seriously, and had done his best to impress on her the seriousness of the power she could wield. She had been an apt student, but magic was hard to master, and it had taken nearly a year for her just to find a focus she resonated with, and another half year after that before she could begin to weave the magic into the web of spells. Uriah had been infinitely patient with h, pushing her when she felt lazy or overconfident, and comforting her when she grew frustrated and discouraged. Through it all, he never lost his temper, was ever patient, and always emotionally solid. Lore brought the tray of tea out to the garden where he sat, meditating, preparing to greet the dawn. The older man smiled as he saw his young charge, gratefully accepting a cup of the steaming brew as the princess took a seat next to him. "A big day, milady. You meet a potential husband in a few hours. How does that make you feel?" The woman tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Nervous....excited....uncertain. I have never thought about a future with someone else. I don't know what to expect, nor if I should even expect anything at all. What if none like me? What if I make a mistake and embarrass my family? What if things don't work out?..." "And what if the sun turns purple and the birds swim and the fish fly...?" Uriah cut in, the absurdity of the statement bringing a smile to Loreena's face. He continued. "You have never needed anyone before, and you do not need anyone to continue. That being said, having a companion for your future can be a comforting and adventurous event. Yes, there is a business aspect to this, a chance for something strong and powerful to come of this, but you have a sensible mind and a romantic heart, milady. Do not waste it on someone who will not walk beside you as friend as well as lover." Loreena sipped her cup. "Is that why you never married, Uriah?" The older man chuckled. "I am married, child. To my work, to my learning, my teaching, and my magic. I love what I have learned, and I know it as intimately as any lover. I cannot expect everyone to walk the path I have, but I am content with my books. You, I sense, will not be content until you have filled volumes of books with your own stories. Now come, we will have your lesson early so you may be with your family when the guests arrive." A few hours later saw Loreena being the last of her sisters to enter the meeting room, Uriah in tow. "Sorry I'm late!" She said, bustling in, greeting each sister and their father with a kiss to the cheek before taking her place along with the others.</s>	<\|message\|>Alvaro "No matter what, I love you, but I must do this for my kingdom. I hope you understand." --- --- The wind whistled its beautiful melody through Alvaro's hair as he stood upon the balcony that overlooked the beautiful lush forest of Lorien. His eyes were closed as he felt the arms of his lover wrap around his midsection. The taller male's chin rested on Alvaro's shoulder as he continued to feel the breeze flow around them. "What is your plan?" "I don't know. This is all so stupid, but if it is my father's wishes how can I say no?" "Like this. NO." "Says the one who does everything he says." "Listen my love. No matter what, I will always love you and I will always support you, even if you have to go and frolic with some girl." "I know my love. I will make it up to you, I promise. I will find a way to do this without having to marry someone I don't love. I wish to marry you, to live as we do now without hindrance." "I won't stop you from doing what the King asks. You are the heir to his throne. You are the future leader of Lorien. I feel this will prepare you more to take the helm when your time comes, but for now, you're mine for the next hour." Alvaro turned to look his lover in the eyes as they shared a passionate kiss before returning to his chambers. He was set to leave that day to head to Astalia and he wanted to spend the last night with his love before marrying a princess he didn't love nor wanted to love. Alvaro and his lover spent the hour holding each other before Alvaro's guard knocked on the chamber doors to let him know the King was waiting. ---- The distance wasn't too great from Lorien to Astalia, but Alvaro had decided to only travel with two guards instead of an entourage. His father had tried to order him to take more, but Alvaro stood his ground and gave his father an order which seemed to surprise the older man, but Alvaro's mother had smiled and ushered him off with just two guards. Alvaro was capable of taking care of himself, no matter how much his father thought he needed protection. He had fought countless battles to defend his kingdom and was quite the warrior. What surprised him more is the guard that his father insisted go with him on this mission of ceremonial engagement. "Nairo, you have to promise that no matter what, you won't act out during the ceremony," Alvaro said sternly to his boyfriend of three years. "I promise, I'm just here to make sure you get there safe and besides, you know you love it." Their entourage of three approached the Kingdom of Astalia and as they approached, they saw the other princes that had come for the hands of the other princesses. Alvaro sighed and approached as the stable men took the horses they'd come on. Alvaro moved with supreme elegance and lowered his head to show respect to the princes of the other kingdoms. He carried with him an aura of light, and the wind seemed to blow in response to his presence. He held one hand behind his back as the other gripped a beautiful fan made of metal that could slice a man's throat with ease. He fanned himself lightly as he was led to the meeting area. There was no loud announcement of his coming, or anything except the guard of Astalia knowing of his arrival by vision alone. "It is an honor to be in the presence of the great King of Astalia and his daughters. I surely hope he will understand," Alvaro said to Nairo who stood beside him along with the other guard.</s>
<\|description\|>Gil Jalal Annalise Altera Age: 22 Bio: The eldest of the 4 daughters Annalise was born with some form of Albinism resulting in much lighter skin and hair than her parents. It was because of this that she was believed to have the ability to learn the art of magic. When she was old enough to learn one of the Court Mages attempted to train her in the art but it was quickly discovered that she was not able to practice the art. She has a very intense sense of duty to her father and her kingdom, while she does wish for her freedom to marry who she wanted, like her father did before her, she is willing to do what it takes to help her father and her home succeed. Other: Annalise was born blind in her right eye so she can be a little clumsy at times and lacks proper depth perception. Age: 19 Bio(optional): The 3rd son to the King of the Orc ruled desert Kingdom of Afdan. Personality: Despite his slightly brutish appearance Prince Gil is a respectable male with a kind heart. He often speaks softly and has a habit of hunching around those he does not wish to startle in an attempt to make himself look smaller. He is, however, aware that he does give off a certain appearance and his not afraid to use his larger stature to intimidate those he deems a threat. Other(optional): Aldar has been Gil's personal guard as well as teacher since he was old enough to wield a weapon. He is practically a second father to the prince. A young but gifted Shaman sent with Gil to tend to the Prince should he sustain any injuries as well as to allow fast communication between Gil and his father should it be needed. Long ago the Desert Country of Afdan was seemingly uninhabitable however the hearty Orcish race called these lands home. Many nomadic tribes existed within the country each filled with fierce warriors. Orc were viewed by the rest of the kingdoms as brutish and savage. In most cases they were correct. Many kingdoms took to exiling criminals, traitors, and deserters to the country, intending it to be a punishment. Those who were exiled here soon found out that though the Orcs of the country were indeed brutes, they were also willing to learn about the world outside of their own realm. The Orcs of Afdan accepted those who were exiled into their tribes so long as the individuals respected their rules and ways of life. Slowly as the tribes took on more people of all races a true country began to form. The dwarves brought with them knowledge of metal and ore, the humans agriculture and livestock, the elves magic. As the country grew it became a melting pot of many different cultures and the nomadic ways of the old Orcs, though not entirely gone, became less of a necessity and more of a way of distributing goods from one tribe to another. However each tribe still saw themselves as separate from the others, only trading among the others because it benefited them. Eventually, as with most new civilizations, a power struggle began, as each tribe, with their own Chief, began fighting for land and resources. After all, resources were few and far between in the desert. Simple squabbles became full blown wars until finally one of the Orc Chiefs, came up with an idea. The Chiefs of each tribe would fight in 1v1 battle against another, moving up the ranks as they won until only one was victorious. The winner would be made Chief of Chiefs and their tribe would become the new united nation's capital. All losing Chiefs would answer to the winner but still maintain their tribe. Any disputes on land and resources would be handled by the Chief of Chiefs and his word would be final. The official Kingdom of Afdan is a fairly new kingdom only about half a century old, still consisting of a variety of tribes, each with their own Chief who answers to the "Chief of Chiefs" or to other kingdoms, the "King" of Afdan. The Orc Dumag Jalal, the winner of "The Great Chief Battle" Became the ruler of this new Kingdom at the Young Age of 20. His human wife Daphne Jalal, the Queen, has been instrumental in assisting the tribes in coming together. The pair have 3 sons. Dumag Jalal II, 25, the eldest and heir to the throne. Uram Jalal, 23, the middle and commander of the Afdan army. Gil Jalal, 19, the youngest and the one who was sent to marry a Princess of the Astalian Kingdom.</s> <\|message\|>Loreena Altera Loreena had been up since the gray light of dawn. She knew it was Uriah's favorite time of day, before the sun illuminated the colors of the world, and life would begin to rouse and stir. The Court Mage would be found in the gardens at this hour, and Loreena herself was in the kitchen, warming a pot of tea for them. Today was a big day, the castle all in an flurry of preparation and excitement. Despite all of the pomp and circumstance, her teacher refused to release her from her lesson for the day. If she was to apply herself to magic, it needed to be a lifelong passion and pursuit. Loreena had shown no disappointment in his decision, despite his gruff mannerisms. Uriah had been her teacher and companion since she was 14 and her abilities had begun to manifest. He had tested all of the princesses as they came of age, but as of yet, only Lore had shown any aptitude for it. He had taken her education very seriously, and had done his best to impress on her the seriousness of the power she could wield. She had been an apt student, but magic was hard to master, and it had taken nearly a year for her just to find a focus she resonated with, and another half year after that before she could begin to weave the magic into the web of spells. Uriah had been infinitely patient with h, pushing her when she felt lazy or overconfident, and comforting her when she grew frustrated and discouraged. Through it all, he never lost his temper, was ever patient, and always emotionally solid. Lore brought the tray of tea out to the garden where he sat, meditating, preparing to greet the dawn. The older man smiled as he saw his young charge, gratefully accepting a cup of the steaming brew as the princess took a seat next to him. "A big day, milady. You meet a potential husband in a few hours. How does that make you feel?" The woman tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Nervous....excited....uncertain. I have never thought about a future with someone else. I don't know what to expect, nor if I should even expect anything at all. What if none like me? What if I make a mistake and embarrass my family? What if things don't work out?..." "And what if the sun turns purple and the birds swim and the fish fly...?" Uriah cut in, the absurdity of the statement bringing a smile to Loreena's face. He continued. "You have never needed anyone before, and you do not need anyone to continue. That being said, having a companion for your future can be a comforting and adventurous event. Yes, there is a business aspect to this, a chance for something strong and powerful to come of this, but you have a sensible mind and a romantic heart, milady. Do not waste it on someone who will not walk beside you as friend as well as lover." Loreena sipped her cup. "Is that why you never married, Uriah?" The older man chuckled. "I am married, child. To my work, to my learning, my teaching, and my magic. I love what I have learned, and I know it as intimately as any lover. I cannot expect everyone to walk the path I have, but I am content with my books. You, I sense, will not be content until you have filled volumes of books with your own stories. Now come, we will have your lesson early so you may be with your family when the guests arrive." A few hours later saw Loreena being the last of her sisters to enter the meeting room, Uriah in tow. "Sorry I'm late!" She said, bustling in, greeting each sister and their father with a kiss to the cheek before taking her place along with the others.</s> <\|message\|>Alvaro "No matter what, I love you, but I must do this for my kingdom. I hope you understand." --- --- The wind whistled its beautiful melody through Alvaro's hair as he stood upon the balcony that overlooked the beautiful lush forest of Lorien. His eyes were closed as he felt the arms of his lover wrap around his midsection. The taller male's chin rested on Alvaro's shoulder as he continued to feel the breeze flow around them. "What is your plan?" "I don't know. This is all so stupid, but if it is my father's wishes how can I say no?" "Like this. NO." "Says the one who does everything he says." "Listen my love. No matter what, I will always love you and I will always support you, even if you have to go and frolic with some girl." "I know my love. I will make it up to you, I promise. I will find a way to do this without having to marry someone I don't love. I wish to marry you, to live as we do now without hindrance." "I won't stop you from doing what the King asks. You are the heir to his throne. You are the future leader of Lorien. I feel this will prepare you more to take the helm when your time comes, but for now, you're mine for the next hour." Alvaro turned to look his lover in the eyes as they shared a passionate kiss before returning to his chambers. He was set to leave that day to head to Astalia and he wanted to spend the last night with his love before marrying a princess he didn't love nor wanted to love. Alvaro and his lover spent the hour holding each other before Alvaro's guard knocked on the chamber doors to let him know the King was waiting. ---- The distance wasn't too great from Lorien to Astalia, but Alvaro had decided to only travel with two guards instead of an entourage. His father had tried to order him to take more, but Alvaro stood his ground and gave his father an order which seemed to surprise the older man, but Alvaro's mother had smiled and ushered him off with just two guards. Alvaro was capable of taking care of himself, no matter how much his father thought he needed protection. He had fought countless battles to defend his kingdom and was quite the warrior. What surprised him more is the guard that his father insisted go with him on this mission of ceremonial engagement. "Nairo, you have to promise that no matter what, you won't act out during the ceremony," Alvaro said sternly to his boyfriend of three years. "I promise, I'm just here to make sure you get there safe and besides, you know you love it." Their entourage of three approached the Kingdom of Astalia and as they approached, they saw the other princes that had come for the hands of the other princesses. Alvaro sighed and approached as the stable men took the horses they'd come on. Alvaro moved with supreme elegance and lowered his head to show respect to the princes of the other kingdoms. He carried with him an aura of light, and the wind seemed to blow in response to his presence. He held one hand behind his back as the other gripped a beautiful fan made of metal that could slice a man's throat with ease. He fanned himself lightly as he was led to the meeting area. There was no loud announcement of his coming, or anything except the guard of Astalia knowing of his arrival by vision alone. "It is an honor to be in the presence of the great King of Astalia and his daughters. I surely hope he will understand," Alvaro said to Nairo who stood beside him along with the other guard.</s>	<\|message\|>Gil Jalal The journey from Afdan had been a decently uneventful one. People on the roads avoided the small group, which only consisted of the half-orc Prince, one large orcish guard, and a slightly smaller half -orc shaman. as well as five large oxen sized boars. Three ridden by the individuals and two carrying the luggage the group brought with them. Which, in retrospect, was not a lot. As they approached the capital city of Astalia Gil couldn't help but marvel at the city on the cliffs. The sun glistened off the sea as they approached. It was a sight that Gil hadn't known he was missing out on. He stopped for a brief moment to admire the view from a distance. "My Prince, we must continue. We must arrive this day." The guard who accompanied him said as he turned to look at the young man. His voice was gruff, one that many would find intimidating. The blue eyes of the prince landed on the guard and he sighed. "I am very aware of this Aldar. I was simply admiring the Sea. I have never seen it before." Gil replied, kicking the boar to start walking again. Travelers on the road would not know what the men were saying as they were speaking the language of the Orcs. His gaze remained on the ocean as they continued. If there was one thing he could say he was happy about, it would be the chance to see the ocean. It was a beautiful sight, one he would not soon forget. It took about an hour for the group to enter the city. The city itself was something to marvel at. The buildings much more permanent than many in his kingdom. Being built of stone, some even build into the cliff faces. The Prince examined the buildings as the group traveled through the city toward the castle that sat directly on the cliff. It took him a moment to notice the murmurs as the group traveled. He knew that many of the other races were distrustful of his people. Orcs were seen as brutes by the rest of the continent. He was sure their arrival was one that would be met with a mix of emotions. It didn't help that though the Prince's clothes were rich in color, they were nothing to marvel at. His country did not use clothing to show status, in fact it wasn't uncommon for Cheiftans to wear clothes similar to the people they commanded. Their status was instead represented by threads and ribbons braided into an individual's hair. Something other countries would not understand. After a short walk through the city they arrived at the castle gates. Where they were stopped. Aldar, dismounted and presented the Prince in broken Astalian. "Prince Gil Jalal of Afdan." Was all he said. Which seemed to give the guards all they needed. Gil and the Shaman who accompanied the two dismounted as well, and their mounts were taken elsewhere. The group now traveled on foot, being ushered toward the main hall. Aldar took the lead, with Gil behind him, and the Shaman behind him.</s>
<\|description\|>Gil Jalal Annalise Altera Age: 22 Bio: The eldest of the 4 daughters Annalise was born with some form of Albinism resulting in much lighter skin and hair than her parents. It was because of this that she was believed to have the ability to learn the art of magic. When she was old enough to learn one of the Court Mages attempted to train her in the art but it was quickly discovered that she was not able to practice the art. She has a very intense sense of duty to her father and her kingdom, while she does wish for her freedom to marry who she wanted, like her father did before her, she is willing to do what it takes to help her father and her home succeed. Other: Annalise was born blind in her right eye so she can be a little clumsy at times and lacks proper depth perception. Age: 19 Bio(optional): The 3rd son to the King of the Orc ruled desert Kingdom of Afdan. Personality: Despite his slightly brutish appearance Prince Gil is a respectable male with a kind heart. He often speaks softly and has a habit of hunching around those he does not wish to startle in an attempt to make himself look smaller. He is, however, aware that he does give off a certain appearance and his not afraid to use his larger stature to intimidate those he deems a threat. Other(optional): Aldar has been Gil's personal guard as well as teacher since he was old enough to wield a weapon. He is practically a second father to the prince. A young but gifted Shaman sent with Gil to tend to the Prince should he sustain any injuries as well as to allow fast communication between Gil and his father should it be needed. Long ago the Desert Country of Afdan was seemingly uninhabitable however the hearty Orcish race called these lands home. Many nomadic tribes existed within the country each filled with fierce warriors. Orc were viewed by the rest of the kingdoms as brutish and savage. In most cases they were correct. Many kingdoms took to exiling criminals, traitors, and deserters to the country, intending it to be a punishment. Those who were exiled here soon found out that though the Orcs of the country were indeed brutes, they were also willing to learn about the world outside of their own realm. The Orcs of Afdan accepted those who were exiled into their tribes so long as the individuals respected their rules and ways of life. Slowly as the tribes took on more people of all races a true country began to form. The dwarves brought with them knowledge of metal and ore, the humans agriculture and livestock, the elves magic. As the country grew it became a melting pot of many different cultures and the nomadic ways of the old Orcs, though not entirely gone, became less of a necessity and more of a way of distributing goods from one tribe to another. However each tribe still saw themselves as separate from the others, only trading among the others because it benefited them. Eventually, as with most new civilizations, a power struggle began, as each tribe, with their own Chief, began fighting for land and resources. After all, resources were few and far between in the desert. Simple squabbles became full blown wars until finally one of the Orc Chiefs, came up with an idea. The Chiefs of each tribe would fight in 1v1 battle against another, moving up the ranks as they won until only one was victorious. The winner would be made Chief of Chiefs and their tribe would become the new united nation's capital. All losing Chiefs would answer to the winner but still maintain their tribe. Any disputes on land and resources would be handled by the Chief of Chiefs and his word would be final. The official Kingdom of Afdan is a fairly new kingdom only about half a century old, still consisting of a variety of tribes, each with their own Chief who answers to the "Chief of Chiefs" or to other kingdoms, the "King" of Afdan. The Orc Dumag Jalal, the winner of "The Great Chief Battle" Became the ruler of this new Kingdom at the Young Age of 20. His human wife Daphne Jalal, the Queen, has been instrumental in assisting the tribes in coming together. The pair have 3 sons. Dumag Jalal II, 25, the eldest and heir to the throne. Uram Jalal, 23, the middle and commander of the Afdan army. Gil Jalal, 19, the youngest and the one who was sent to marry a Princess of the Astalian Kingdom.</s> <\|message\|>Erick Just as Erick once again took his seat, his eyes flicked to the sizeable Prozdy prince before him and much to his surprise, he began to address him in thickly accented, broken Astalian. Erick responded with a shrug, nod and an uneasy smirk at what he supposed was a fairly fun remark regarding the previous evening, the conversation then moved on and Erick strained to understand some of the words which Vyarin was himself in the process of translating, "uhhh, bear..yes, very large" he expressed grinning with enthusiasm, given Vyarin's particular choice of words, Erick wondered if their methods of hunting greatly differed.. at this point the eldest princess, Annalise spoke up breaking through their conversation. The Jörda prince was somehow both agitated and relieved as she declined her attendance for the morning horse ride - it would have been a good opportunity to make a further impression, but.. he did feel quite unwell, perhaps a blessing in disguise? Erick blinked as she arose, almost lost in his thoughts he hastily stood as she began to make her leave, "Of course, Princess" he acknowledged and returned to his seat once she had vacated. The company was dwindling.. two suitors and two princesses, but the Prince Gil was yet to make an appearance. There was a short silence and Erick considered if returning to his conversation with Vyarin or engaging the princesses was the wisest option, but the youngest princess, Jinayah spoke up to break the stifling quiet; his eyebrows flicked upwards with her suggestion, "it will be my pleasure" he replied with a smile, before she then turned her attention to the table collectively. Erick wasn't sure if Jinayah's question was mostly rhetorical, and the Jörda prince considered to himself with some regret he'd spent a portion of it in the stables.. he wondered if they were aware, hopefully not.. he cleared his throat, "yes, indeed" he expressed with a guttural voice, he scanned the others only briefly and continued to eat, picking at his dry bread and a small handful of black grapes.</s> <\|message\|>Gil Jalal \| \| \| \| ______________________________________ \| \| --- The next morning Gil was woken by Sioban. The Prince groaned and sat up not wanting to be awake just yet. "Wake up sleepy Prince, we got things we need to do today." The upbeat voice of the shaman rang out as Gil rolled his eyes and stood up to stretch the sleep from his limbs. This seemed to please the Shaman who left Gil to prepare for the day. He dressed himself in his most casual outfit. His clothes were nothing special. If one didn't know better he could easily be mistaken for a common member of society. Only those who knew of the significance of his braids, beads, and threads would be able to pick out that he was royalty. He doubted many of the Astalians would notice though. After getting dressed for the day he left his room and found both Sioban and Aldar waiting for him outside his room. "The King has ordered that we remain within the castle grounds without an Astalian guard's company. Something has changed and he clearly wishes to keep it out of the ears of the public for now. I will accompany you for the day." Aldar said bluntly as Gil walked past the two and headed toward the dining hall. It seemed his entourage had other plans as Sioban pulled Gil toward the direction of one of the gardens. "Before you partake in a morning meal, Aldar thinks it is a good idea we take the time to grant you blessings for today. It will only take a moment." Sioban explained as he led the Prince into the garden and toward the small creek that babbled through the back of it. There Gil kneeled beside the water and Sioban began speaking in orcish, requesting that the gods of nature as well as the ancestors look after Gil in his activities for the day. The ceremony was brief but it was long enough that Gil arrived to the dining hall after the eldest Princess had already made her exit and the others seemed close to finishing as well. He gave them all a polite nod and a morning greeting in Orcish as he took a place at the table and took in the options he had to eat. Aldar took a post on the wall behind the Prince but it seemed the Shaman had wandered off to do whatever it was Sioban had found to entertain himself with which didn't surprise the Prince one bit, the Shaman had always been one to do his own thing. "Big day today yea? The Ball and all?" He questioned just to see if he could start some idol chatter while he casually piled his plate high with all the food that could fit. He wouldn't be offended if nobody answered him after all they seemed to be in their own conversations already.</s> <\|message\|>Vyarin Kremazov While the others sitting at the table were occupied in their own conversations, Vyarin began shoving dry little lumps of bread into his pockets. It was a bad habit that he had never quite outgrown; his younger self did at times get into trouble for it. There was nothing that stirred the blood in his hands quite like the backs of them being rapped fiercely by a thin strand of willow, its fibres pulled taut. However, that never seemed to stop him; just make him a better sneak. Besides, one gets used to the sensation. He never regretted not having the occasional nibble of something when he had time to himself, usually sometime between the noon and evening meals. The Astalian bread was so light and airy, it hardly felt like biting into any substance at all. Best to take a few more rolls, just in case. However, his dastardly heist was cut short by the sudden arrival of one of the absent princes, the well-built figure of greenish hue. Vyarin had no way of telling whether the sudden interloper had seen him, and was simply pretending not to say anything to avoid a scene. He dropped the lump in his hand, it landing with a soft pat on the tablecloth. The other prince ambled to the table and joined the diners there, making sudden conversation. Yes, the ball. Just one more battle in this grand campaign. Vyarin nodded along, slowly getting to his feet and hoping his pockets didn't protrude too much that the others thought something off. "Excusing, please," Vyarin said, quiet as he could while still feeling like he could be heard. "I am worrying; I come to here with men. They are of me; I not see all of the night. I go to look; they are not to go away." In his mind, he irked at the half-lie. It was true, he was worried about how his loyal men were faring, but there was far more than that. He made a mental checklist of the tasks ahead. He had to destroy the letter from his father, before any of the local eyes and ears made note of it. He had to find a way to dress up in Astalian manner, to appear at the coming gathering. Most importantly, he had to talk with Annalise the eldest, at least to make his name known in person. He left the dining hall, making proper obeisance to their host the king, but not quite knowing if he appreciated the gesture. There was much to be done indeed.</s> <\|message\|>Jinayah Altera Jinayah smiled warmly at Prince Erick's acceptance of her offer to ride. "Excellent. I'll be ready in about two hours. I will meet you at the stables. Just ask one of the servants to point you the way." When Prince Gil spoke, she turned her head. Her mood dipped just a touch. "Yes, it is a big day. I, for one, hope that you're ready to dance your shoes thin." There was an excitement in her voice that was entirely false. The lie was given away in her eyes. She didn't mind socializing with the Princes in private. They were just boys, after all, and she'd spent her childhood dealing with them while she trained. No, it was the other nobles that would be in attendance. She could very well do without the conniving, backstabbing, constantly calculating courtiers. As Prince Vyarin made his excuses and exited, she too, stood. "Well, I'd best get ready. You enjoy your breakfast. Prince Erick, I will see you soon." - One and a half hours later, she was at the stables. She had switched out the armor for an embroidered tunic and pants, with high riding boots. While she brushed her favorite riding horse, a rose gray mare with an elegantly braided mane and tail, she hummed lightly under her breath. Blossom always liked the humming. Hopefully no one was looking, as she practiced her dancing footwork to her own music.</s>	<\|message\|>Gil Jalal Annalise took the long way to the library, more or less deep in her own thoughts as she walked. There was so much at stake here, her country's future as well as the futures of the countries the Princes hail from. Would uniting really make them all stronger or would it simply make it easier to take out the remaining heads of the larger countries. The Empire had no problem lying in wait. This much she knew from accounts of how the other countries were taken over. Especially in the beginning. She quickened her pace, she needed to find a book, one that accounted the start of the war. Would there even be one? She had scoured the library many times for Gilthan history but all had been lost. After a bit of walking she finally entered the large room that was the castle's main library. There were smaller libraries scattered about but those only contained copies of the books held in this room. Any book the royal family owned would be found in this room. Books were not allowed to leave this library, so the collection should be complete, so long as nobody had snuck one out. Some of the castle's staff approached the Princess as she entered but they were quickly waved off with a polite smile. She didn't want or need the help. Immediately she got to work scouring the shelves, pulling anything down that she thought would have any sort of relevant information. It took her a bit but eventually she had quite a few books piled up on one of the many tables that were scattered around the front of the room. Annalise got to work skimming the books, moving everything she realized was not helpful to the side. The discarded books were taken and put back by the staff that occupied the room. Books were watched closely here, even when in the hands of one of the Royal family. The rule was not to be broken, by anyone. This was the one place the mages had more authority than she did, and she was always careful to respect that. She would spend the next while skimming books and placing them to the side when she didn't find what she wanted. She figured this task would take her a while, keep her busy until she was either interrupted, or the time to prepare for the ball began.</s>
<\|description\|>Yin Appearance: Race: Human Occupation: Explorer Memories: Yin awoken one day in a dark, damp cave. With nothing but the clothes on her back, she had no idea where she was or even who she was. It was frightful at first, because she was alone. But soon that fear became curiosity. Yin would leave the cave, following a strange voice in her head. It was neither frightening, nor calming. It was more like... The sound of the wind. The washing of the waves. Crackling fire. A falling rock. The sound of nature and life. She wandered for some time, stopping to sleep, eat, and drink, as her memories slowly came back to her. Though really the only memory she regained was her name. However soon she would discover the horrors in these lands. Mutated beings who once were human, like her. Madness stricken beasts who tore at anything that moved. Even creatures who by all rights should be dead, shambling about adding more numbers to their ranks. Yin could not face these creatures alone, and fled from them. Fear gripped her heart. But once again, that fear turned into a strange curiosity. A desire for strength. And so Yin sought out a way to protect herself, and free these tortured souls from their existence. That's when she discovered a strange power she had within her. The power shelter lost souls within her... Other: Yin has found a large cat doll which she has painstakingly cleaned and cared for. It helped keep her sanity when she was alone, as she has had no company otherwise. So far the only memory Yin has discovered is her own name, and only because she heard the name in her head and simply assumes it's her name. She's tried to find if there's anything else about her identity, but so far she has found nothing. Yin is decently capable of basic survival skills, as she is one of the rare few truly living beings in these lands, and Yin still needs to eat and drink to live.</s> <\|message\|>Graham Douglas One moment, Graham Douglas had been the undisputed master of all he surveyed. The next, he had been bleeding out on the ground, a knife shoved into his back by his traitorous right hand man. And now here he was. Rather than heading off to whatever afterlife was waiting for him, Graham instead found himself in a crumbling temple with with a bunch of other dead people all surrounding a girl who was still clearly alive and sleeping soundly on the temple's altar. Though he was incapable of moving away from where he appeared, Graham had the fortune of appearing within sitting distance of one of the few long chairs that time had yet to break beyond use. As he sat down, Graham heard the others start talking and introducing themselves, so Graham figured he'd get in on that. "Graham Douglas." Graham introduced himself. "By the by, does anyone else 'ave this strange feelin' in the back o' their 'eads that somethin' dangerous is 'eaded this way or is that just death makin' me go a bit loopy?"</s> <\|message\|>Yin As the four were trying to figure out what was going on with their situation, the girl began to rouse. Strangely enough as she was becoming conscious, everyone would feel more mobile. They were able to move around her, though no further than five feet or so. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and looked around. For a moment she seemed shocked. She was quiet and you could all tell she was afraid. Yet at the same time, despite being so much smaller, so much weaker, there was a certain level of defiance within her. As if she was ready to fight despite how hopelessly outmatched she would be. "Who are you all? You're not... Did you just come here? You don't look like the monsters in these lands." Yin gulped. She had no weapons, not even a rock, but her hands were held tightly to her chest as if to protect her vitals. "I'm Yin... Do you all live here?" Whisper would also notice something now that they have awakened mentally. The altar the girl sat upon was dedicated to a certain deity. The name would elude them due to the void in their memories, but off the top of their heads Whisper could remember their had something to do with voyaging and safe passage: sensible things to want in this pastoral coastal ruin. Whisper himself would know that there are similar deities within the realm of death, such as the Ferryman of Souls. Perhaps it was no coincidence that Whisper would awaken here then, in this place meant to guide people to their destination, be it new lands or an afterlife. As for Graham, while most of his memories unrelated to his vengeance are also a blur, something about some of the ruined iconography was familiar. It was strange because the markings weren't anything like what was on the altar. But it would only take a moment for him to remember some cult or religion that was rather notable back in his city that had the tendency to plaster their symbols everywhere, especially in temples. Even if Graham is not a religious man, he would know that such graffiti had one purpose: marking an enemy area as your territory. Perhaps it was no time that brought this temple to ruin after all. That foreboding feeling was still coming. And for some it was heard. Tamzen was able to hear the flaps of a large winged creature: this was no mere bird. Something much bigger, and was moving fast and with purpose. It was uncertain to know if they realized Yin was here but Tamzen could at least recognize some flying creature was approaching the area due north. As for the others, Alsei would only need a short moment to realize that Yin was overly malnourished. Any strenuous physical activity would drain her quickly, and there was no doubt that if anything came by to attack her, her chances of survival was slim. The fact she survived for this long was nothing short of a miracle. PAL would approach, it's body largely functional however many parts of it's chassis and equipment were rusted and in a state of ruin. The flail heads were gone, likely lost underneath the sand, the tabard was eaten away but insects, and the shield was warped and rusted as well. It would take some time to fix PAL back to it's previous state, but it was still functional nonetheless.</s> <\|message\|>Tamzen Silentflight As the other two introduced themselves, Tamzen looked over their new companions once again, eyes lingering on Whisper in particular. They hadn't encountered many kenku in their travels, but they were pretty sure that skeletal, eyeless face was not a common trait. Did it have something to do with how he had died? None of the others showed such severe disfigurements, meaning either the kenku's death had been particularly horrific or there was something else at play here. The halfling didn't have too long to comtemplate what to do about this before the woman on the altar finally awoke. Tamzen turned their head towards her. Just as they were about to open their mouth to answer her queries, however, their pointed ears suddenly pricked up as they became aware of large wingbeats, slowly growing louder and louder. "Something's coming," they said. They pointed northwards. "From over that way." They looked back at Yin. "It appears we are not safe here. Do you know how to fight?" They then glanced at the other members of the group. "Do any of you know how to fight or..." They looked down at their ghostly hands. Could they even fight like this? They weren't even sure if they could move, let alone hit something. They shook their head. "I think we should consider retreating, find a place to hide, get our bearings."</s> <\|message\|>Graham Douglas From where he was sitting, Graham pulled out his bubble pipe and began 'smoking' it. As he did so, he became aware of a number of eight-pointed stars graffitied all across the temple. Graham was familiar with this type of graffiti. He'd frequently used his own version of it over his many campaigns of underworld conquest at the head of the Lamb Street Shanks. It was the sort of graffiti that was left behind after an attack to let people know just who it was that rolled on through and set fire to everything. Most of the gangs Graham had dealt with hadn't been religious in nature, the closest he'd ever come being some pirates led by a hobgoblin paladin. But even so, Graham had seen these symbols before when he was alive. They belonged to a cult that paid homage to the Bright for power or protection. They never made an effort to oppose him and he had never antagonized them, so Graham didn't know much about them. But he did know that a good portion of the Lamb Street Shanks were also members of this cult. Graham didn't remember there being a quiet costal village near the city he lived in though, so he wondered what these symbols were doing here. Perhaps the cults operation was farther reaching than he thought. Or perhaps they had moved or expanded far beyond the city between Graham's death and now. Either way, Graham put those thoughts aside as Yin woke up and spoke. "Graham Douglas." Graham introduced himself a second time once Yin was done talking. "We just got 'ere through some magical shenanigan or another and were just as puzzled as you are on 'ow that 'appened." When Tamzen mentioned that something was coming and suggested they run and hide, Graham was deeply offended by the notion. "Bugger that!" Graham exclaimed. "If whatever's comin' this way is a threat, I say we kill it!" With that said, Graham put away his pipe, pulled out his crossbow, and readied himself for battle.</s> <\|message\|>Whisper "Yin. Graham Douglas. Tamzen Silentflight. Alssssei Cogsssspeaker." The chorus of voices rolled out from the hooded Kenku, a perfect copy of each being reflected back to their speakers. He shifted, flowing like a rolling cloud of fog in his shadowy form towards the Altar- and towards Yin. She would be permitted, indirectly, to see into his hood and to see the abominable visage that he possesses as he quietly contemplates the Altar. Oh, how his mind failed him! A lifetime of a body that creaked and groaned only to lose his mind as a spirit! It set nerves- Nerves that shouldn't function, he has no glands or organs for them to connect to after all- on edge. At the alrert of Danger, the Kenku's feathers flattened out and smoothed down. This simple thing resulted in Whisper losing most of his volume and his robes shifting as if something beneath them were alive as his stature was reduced to that of a gaunt frame beneath the black of his attire. Truly, in life, he must have been miserable. Whirling the scythe slowly in his hands, his beak parted; "You don't look like the monsters in these lands." He echoed back to Yin, shadows flowing down his arms and along the scythe. These shadows formed into a larger cloud that Whisper suddenly turned and slashed the Scythe through; the cloud erupting around Yin and melding her into the shadows as well. [Action: Spell Slot expended to Cast Invisibility upon Yin]. "Find a place to hide, kill it, fullfill your duty as Guardian!." he declared to the group. Whisper's scythe stilled in the air, trembling as the magic flowed off him and over Yin. The beak parted one final time, whispering to Yin in a strange kaleidoscope of voices; "Somethin' dangerous is 'eaded this way, we are not safe here I fear we might not have much time. My name issss... Whisper." the final voice was once again that wondrously pleasant female voice he couldn't quite recall.</s>	<\|message\|>Yin Yin was confused why these people were here, though at the same time she didn't feel too... Threaten, at least not by them. It was a strange feeling, almost familiar? But there wasn't really any time to question it. Soon a loud, ear piercing screech ripped through the air. Yin looked around scared before glancing back to Tamzen. "I... I don't know how to fight. But I know how to hide." The church wasn't a very great place to hide as it was quite open, lacking doors and most of it's roof. Yin ran out of the ruined temple and the others would feel themselves get pulled alongside her. Yin moved somewhat quick, but it helped that she was very light and spry. She ran out of the temple and looked around for a place to hide. Lots of ruins that wouldn't provide much cover, but there was a well in the distance. Yin could potentially hide down there, assuming there wasn't anything lurking within. But as the young woman was running towards the well, the others would see something in the sky. The shadow it cast looked like a woman... But the physical body was that of a monster. The creature was about 200 feet away, and flying towards Yin. She dove behind a wall and held her breath, hoping the beast hadn't spotted her. However from the way it was flying closer, it may be too late for Yin... But not for the spirits. Though they couldn't stray far from her, they were unimpeded by the physical barriers around her. They were able to phase out of the wall and floor, and the weapons on their back had weight and heft to them. Even if Yin could not fight, perhaps these spirits could. Or at least do something to help Yin escape this flying beast, as her heartbeat and heavy breathing was revealing her position to any creature with keen senses.</s>
<\|description\|>Tamzen Silentflight myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2537265 Appearance: Tamzen stands at about 3 foot 5. They have sandy skin, dark grey eyes and very short black hair that looks like they may have tried to cut it themself to... mixed results. They almost always where a wooden mask resembling horned owl, which hides the fact that their face is badly scarred with three deep claw marks, one narrowly missing their left eye. Their left ear also appears to have a small tear in it, while the right one has two piercings that resemble very large thorns. Their clothes are monk robes that use very warm, autumnal colours, though not in the best condition as they are all tattered and stained with dirt. Race: Ghostwise Halfling Occupation: Wanderer, healer and acolyte Memories: Tamzen heralds from a small, secluded village and all of their memories prior to leaving are actually quite vivid. They were the second of two children and in contrast to their responsible older brother - and the person they themself would eventually become - they were a something of a wild child. They were constantly disobeying the rules laid down by their parents and the village elders, and essentially bullying the other village children into going along with their various schemes. Eventually, this lead to an incident involving in which, on dare to see who was brave enough to enter a nearby cave, Tamzen and another young halfling were attacked by some kind of creature the likes of which neither had ever seen. Tamzen received a nasty claw to their face and their friend was almost killed, when a stranger wearing a goat mask fended on the creature and brought the two halflings back to their village. Tamzen had passed out during the journey but when they awoke, they found the wound on their face was healed - albeit leaving a rather nasty scar - and their friend in stable condition. The stranger, who they later found out was called Alda, had apparently used some kind of power to heal both of them in a way that none of the village healers could. Now, Tamzen's village was very wary of outsiders, and this particular stranger seemed to make them very uncomfortable. Alda was about the same height as a halfling but had a greenish tint to her skin, with oversized ears and hands that more resembled claws. However, she had saved two of their own, so she was permitted to stay in the village for a couple of days, though most of the people kept their distance from her and warned their young not to associate with her. Obviously, Tamzen didn't listen. They wanted to thank Alda for saving them and their friend - who they felt extremely guilty for putting in danger - and they rarely got the chance to speak to someone outside their village. So they managed to sneak into the small hut Alda was staying in and, over the next few days, the two started to form a friendship. Alda wasn't like the other adults in the village. She always answered their questions and told them about things they'd never heard of. For example, Alda explained she was part of an order dedicated to the restoration of the land. She told Tamzen that the land 'very, very sick', that this 'sickness' was responsible for creatures like the one that had attacked them, and if nothing was done, this sickness may cause this land - or even the entire world - to become uninhabitable. All members of this order wore animal masks in order to connect them to nature and remind them of their duty to the land. While Tamzen didn't entirely understand everything she said, they felt the urgency and importance of what Alda was doing, and felt a strong desire to help her, unlike anything they had ever felt. While they loved their village and the people in it, they'd always felt restless here, like they didn't quite belong. Compared to their peers and their older brother, they'd never felt like they had a place, never sure what they wanted to do with their life, which was probably part of the reason for their mischief. In Alda, they suddenly saw some sense of purpose, so when the day come that Alda was set to leave the village, Tamzen said they wanted to with them. Some of the village immediately took against this, obviously, as it had been a long time since one of them had left and saw it as a disturbance in the status quo. After all, if Tamzen left, what would stop others from following their example? On the other hand, not everyone felt that way. Some argued that Tamzen was coming to the age when they would be considered an adult, and still very reckless and bold. Perhaps this journey was what would be needed to calm their wild spirit and make them into an upstanding citizen. After much deliberating, the elders eventually decided to let Tamzen go, but before they left, as was tradition, they were given a small vial of water from the neighbouring river to be worn around their neck as a reminder of where they had come from. After that, Tamzen's memories become very patchwork. They spent a lot of time traveling, saw a lot of people and places, all the while learning from Alda. Alda taught Tamzen many things about both the order and the world in general, such as about various gods including a obscure nature deity that she and the other members of the order worshiped - though Tamzen can no longer recall the name of this deity - how to use one's life force to both heal AND hurt others, and how to speak and understand Terran and Primordial, both languages used by the order and the former of which used in all their scripture. During that time, Tamzen matured a great deal, losing their wilder nature and becoming entirely dedicated to their duty. Eventually, Alda gave Tamzen their own mask, which she had made herself, and resembled an owl in honour of Tamzen's surname 'Silentflight'. Tamzen also remembers that Alda did say after giving this mask that she was going to take them to meet the other members of their order to get fully inducted, though they can't remember if she ever got round to this. They also don't remember what happened to Alda, whether she died or left, only that at some point, Tamzen found themself traveling alone, though still fulfilling the teachings of their mentor. As for Tamzen's death, they don't remember how or when they died, nor do they seem to care much. In fact, they seem to find their new state merely a way for them to better fulfill their responsibilities, even seeing it as being in some way advantageous as they no longer feel burdened by the weaknesses of the living. They also have gotten it into their heads that the Gestalt is some sort of saviour figure, that they are the answer to saving this land that their order was trying so desperately to find, and that the spirits that are bound to the Gestalt are key to aiding this cause. Other: - Goes by they/them pronouns. - Despite claiming that the past is past and that their fellow spirits should forget about their past lives to focus fully on helping the Gestalt, Tamzen is very protective of the vial of water given to them by the village and will become very anxious if it is endangered. - Tamzen almost never removes their mask in the presence of others, partly due to their loyalty to their order but also because they don't want people to see their scars. This isn't so much because they hate the look of the scars themselves but because they are a reminder of their recklessness during youth, which they feel a great deal of shame towards.</s> <\|message\|>Yin The sun never sets in the Brighted Lands. More a curse than a blessing. Despite the sun's constant presence, it provided no warmth. The land was cold, dry, and desperate for life. What exists are ruins and shadows, dust and decay. In a nameless coastal village, Yin was searching for food. Sometimes she could find something that wasn't too rotten that she could eat, or if she was really lucky she would find a plant she could eat. She thought about hunting before, but most creatures she encountered were monsters. Even the birds looked scary and almost as big as her. Yet despite how bleak things were, she's always kept a smile on her face. A skip in her step. Something about her was... Hopeful, despite how desolate these lands were. Even now as her stomach growled and her body was so thin. She hasn't had much to eat except a strange root she had dug up yesterday. It tasted like dirt, but it didn't make her puke, so it was delicious. But it wasn't enough. She searched through the ruins of a building covered in sand. Long chairs had been broken down due to sand and time, but somehow the stone altar remained. Though dirty it didn't show too much signs of decay, though whatever was written on it was on sort of language Yin doesn't understand. Or maybe her eyes were just playing tricks on her due to her hunger. Still... This alter felt nice. Smooth and oddly warm. Yin sat on it to get a moment of rest. "Suppose I could try and see if there's anything to eat in the water. Even if it's far away... I could try. I could... Try..." Yin was tired. She had been walking for as long as she had been awake. Sometimes she would run. When she stopped, she simply sat down, closing her eyes for a bit before running off again. Day and night. She was so tired... So lonely. She laid down on the altar for a moment. It was comfortable. Warm, even in the shadow of this dilapidated building. It would be the first time she's truly had rest. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She took in the senses of her surroundings. The sound of the waves. The smell of the sea. The dryness of her skin. The bitter taste on her tongue. "Yeah... This is a good place to rest..." --- It has been forever since you had died. And it also felt like it was only a moment ago you breathed your last breath. Death. Even for the most stalwart of martyrs, no one can escape the burden of death on one's soul. For many, the experience is enough to drive a man to insanity. A quite whimper would be the best he could muster. But for some... Craven, courageous, wise, or witless, they can find the strength of self to go beyond death. You awaken in a destroyed temple. You don't truly feel like yourself, yet at the same time you feel as though you're alive again. Yet when you try to move, even as you lift your foot and put it in front of the other, you don't move from your spot. You see three other figures near you. Strangers yet somehow there's a sense of kinship with these people. And at the center, a young woman sleeping on an altar. She looks gaunt and hungry, yet somehow sleeping peacefully on this stone bed. But something is coming. How far or how many, it's hard to tell. But you know danger will arrive. Something threatens you, yet at the same time you hardly feel fear. Or anything for that matter. There is no heart beat, no breath. You couldn't move because your feet are not touching the floor. Even if you tried to touch your hand or your chest, it's as if there's nothing there at all. You are a spirit, bound to a mortal. How or why, you do not know. But you have the instinctive feeling of protecting this person, if only out of self-preservation. You know your life is linked to hers. For better or for worse, because you had the will to live you are here. Now you must use that will to fight for your life. There is some time before this profane feeling approaches. You should speak to these fellow spirits, and learn who you're accompanying. The girl doesn't seem to stir, though she still lives. For now.</s> <\|message\|>Alsei Cogspeaker Eyelids flutter open to reveal green eyes with slit pupils. The woman with black hair looks around curiously as she tries to recuperate. A low serpentine like hiss comes from her, "What...? By Moradin'ssss Beard, What isssss thissss placcce?" She quickly takes stock of her memories, her surroundings, and the others nearby. Many questions arose at the fact that she is dead and is currently a spirit. She noticed the sense of kinship between the other three spirits, and the girl sleeping on the altar. "How sssstrange. I may need to take notessss on thisss later..." Her head snaps warily towards the sense of profane danger that approaches. She wanted to speak with the others and get to know them more, but she knows that they need to get the girl in front of them ready for a fight. While she may not fear death anymore, she still is aware that they shouldn't waste any time if they want to be able to make it through the fight. Preparation ahead of time can do wonders for the girl's survival after all. She looks to the group and quickly introduces herself, "I fear we might not have much time, sssso, I'll quickly introduccce myssssself. My name issss Alssssei Cogsssspeaker. It issss niccce to meet you. Now then..." After introducing herself, she looks around quickly and speaks to herself, "Now....where isss PAL? He sssshhhould be...Ah! There you are!" Her eyes land on the steel defender that lied nearby covered in sand. She noted the sand and figured that a lot of time had passed. PAL clearly needs maintenance, but at a glance, it seems like PAL should still be functional. She clears her throat and with her attention directed to the steel defender, she speaks with authority, "Voiccce Authentication: Eight Two Ssssixxx Five. Risssse and Sssshhhine PAL. It isss time for a new day, and time to fulfill your duty as Guardian!" --- After Alsei gave the voice authentication, the steel defender's eyes shine with a blue light. The steel defender moves to stand up and turns to face Yin, unmoving and waiting for commands or any sign of threats. It stands vigilantly as it speaks, "Voice Authentication confirmed. Ally registered. Awaiting commands,</s>	<\|message\|>Tamzen Silentflight When the shortest of the four spirits awoke, their first instinct upon finding themself among these spectral strangers was to get into a defensive stance. While their expression was hidden behind a mask, the distrusting glint in their eyes as their gaze swept over each member of the group was unmistakable. Eventually, their sight rest on the woman asleep on the altar. At the sight of her, the masked spirit felt themselves relax slightly, though they weren't sure why. She was just as unknown to them as the others. However, unlike them, she seemed to be tangible, alive, and not in the best condition due to hunger. A strange feeling of... protectiveness passed over the small spirit and they attempted to approach the woman, only to find they couldn't move. Frustrated, they muttered something under their breath. It sounded like it was in halfling, but even if the other spirits couldn't understand it, they could probably tell it was some kind of curse. It was at this point one of the other spirits, a (seemingly) human woman with an unusual green eyes spoke up, introducing herself to the rest of them as Alsei. The masked halfling glanced at her, scrutinizing her once again. She didn't seem hostile, at least not towards current company. In fact, her sense of urgency and her willingness to be the first to speak up meant that the halfling couldn't help but respect her, even if they still weren't sure if they could trust her. "Tamzen," they grunted in response. "Tamzen Silentflight." They watched as Alsei then started scanning the surroundings in search of something she referred to as 'PAL'. Tamzen followed the woman's gaze towards a shape sitting submerged in the sand that, on closer inspection, appear vaguely humanoid in shape. How had Tamzen not noticed that before? They'd have to be much more alert going forward if they wanted to figure out what was going on.</s>
<\|description\|>Tamzen Silentflight myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2537265 Appearance: Tamzen stands at about 3 foot 5. They have sandy skin, dark grey eyes and very short black hair that looks like they may have tried to cut it themself to... mixed results. They almost always where a wooden mask resembling horned owl, which hides the fact that their face is badly scarred with three deep claw marks, one narrowly missing their left eye. Their left ear also appears to have a small tear in it, while the right one has two piercings that resemble very large thorns. Their clothes are monk robes that use very warm, autumnal colours, though not in the best condition as they are all tattered and stained with dirt. Race: Ghostwise Halfling Occupation: Wanderer, healer and acolyte Memories: Tamzen heralds from a small, secluded village and all of their memories prior to leaving are actually quite vivid. They were the second of two children and in contrast to their responsible older brother - and the person they themself would eventually become - they were a something of a wild child. They were constantly disobeying the rules laid down by their parents and the village elders, and essentially bullying the other village children into going along with their various schemes. Eventually, this lead to an incident involving in which, on dare to see who was brave enough to enter a nearby cave, Tamzen and another young halfling were attacked by some kind of creature the likes of which neither had ever seen. Tamzen received a nasty claw to their face and their friend was almost killed, when a stranger wearing a goat mask fended on the creature and brought the two halflings back to their village. Tamzen had passed out during the journey but when they awoke, they found the wound on their face was healed - albeit leaving a rather nasty scar - and their friend in stable condition. The stranger, who they later found out was called Alda, had apparently used some kind of power to heal both of them in a way that none of the village healers could. Now, Tamzen's village was very wary of outsiders, and this particular stranger seemed to make them very uncomfortable. Alda was about the same height as a halfling but had a greenish tint to her skin, with oversized ears and hands that more resembled claws. However, she had saved two of their own, so she was permitted to stay in the village for a couple of days, though most of the people kept their distance from her and warned their young not to associate with her. Obviously, Tamzen didn't listen. They wanted to thank Alda for saving them and their friend - who they felt extremely guilty for putting in danger - and they rarely got the chance to speak to someone outside their village. So they managed to sneak into the small hut Alda was staying in and, over the next few days, the two started to form a friendship. Alda wasn't like the other adults in the village. She always answered their questions and told them about things they'd never heard of. For example, Alda explained she was part of an order dedicated to the restoration of the land. She told Tamzen that the land 'very, very sick', that this 'sickness' was responsible for creatures like the one that had attacked them, and if nothing was done, this sickness may cause this land - or even the entire world - to become uninhabitable. All members of this order wore animal masks in order to connect them to nature and remind them of their duty to the land. While Tamzen didn't entirely understand everything she said, they felt the urgency and importance of what Alda was doing, and felt a strong desire to help her, unlike anything they had ever felt. While they loved their village and the people in it, they'd always felt restless here, like they didn't quite belong. Compared to their peers and their older brother, they'd never felt like they had a place, never sure what they wanted to do with their life, which was probably part of the reason for their mischief. In Alda, they suddenly saw some sense of purpose, so when the day come that Alda was set to leave the village, Tamzen said they wanted to with them. Some of the village immediately took against this, obviously, as it had been a long time since one of them had left and saw it as a disturbance in the status quo. After all, if Tamzen left, what would stop others from following their example? On the other hand, not everyone felt that way. Some argued that Tamzen was coming to the age when they would be considered an adult, and still very reckless and bold. Perhaps this journey was what would be needed to calm their wild spirit and make them into an upstanding citizen. After much deliberating, the elders eventually decided to let Tamzen go, but before they left, as was tradition, they were given a small vial of water from the neighbouring river to be worn around their neck as a reminder of where they had come from. After that, Tamzen's memories become very patchwork. They spent a lot of time traveling, saw a lot of people and places, all the while learning from Alda. Alda taught Tamzen many things about both the order and the world in general, such as about various gods including a obscure nature deity that she and the other members of the order worshiped - though Tamzen can no longer recall the name of this deity - how to use one's life force to both heal AND hurt others, and how to speak and understand Terran and Primordial, both languages used by the order and the former of which used in all their scripture. During that time, Tamzen matured a great deal, losing their wilder nature and becoming entirely dedicated to their duty. Eventually, Alda gave Tamzen their own mask, which she had made herself, and resembled an owl in honour of Tamzen's surname 'Silentflight'. Tamzen also remembers that Alda did say after giving this mask that she was going to take them to meet the other members of their order to get fully inducted, though they can't remember if she ever got round to this. They also don't remember what happened to Alda, whether she died or left, only that at some point, Tamzen found themself traveling alone, though still fulfilling the teachings of their mentor. As for Tamzen's death, they don't remember how or when they died, nor do they seem to care much. In fact, they seem to find their new state merely a way for them to better fulfill their responsibilities, even seeing it as being in some way advantageous as they no longer feel burdened by the weaknesses of the living. They also have gotten it into their heads that the Gestalt is some sort of saviour figure, that they are the answer to saving this land that their order was trying so desperately to find, and that the spirits that are bound to the Gestalt are key to aiding this cause. Other: - Goes by they/them pronouns. - Despite claiming that the past is past and that their fellow spirits should forget about their past lives to focus fully on helping the Gestalt, Tamzen is very protective of the vial of water given to them by the village and will become very anxious if it is endangered. - Tamzen almost never removes their mask in the presence of others, partly due to their loyalty to their order but also because they don't want people to see their scars. This isn't so much because they hate the look of the scars themselves but because they are a reminder of their recklessness during youth, which they feel a great deal of shame towards.</s> <\|message\|>Graham Douglas One moment, Graham Douglas had been the undisputed master of all he surveyed. The next, he had been bleeding out on the ground, a knife shoved into his back by his traitorous right hand man. And now here he was. Rather than heading off to whatever afterlife was waiting for him, Graham instead found himself in a crumbling temple with with a bunch of other dead people all surrounding a girl who was still clearly alive and sleeping soundly on the temple's altar. Though he was incapable of moving away from where he appeared, Graham had the fortune of appearing within sitting distance of one of the few long chairs that time had yet to break beyond use. As he sat down, Graham heard the others start talking and introducing themselves, so Graham figured he'd get in on that. "Graham Douglas." Graham introduced himself. "By the by, does anyone else 'ave this strange feelin' in the back o' their 'eads that somethin' dangerous is 'eaded this way or is that just death makin' me go a bit loopy?"</s> <\|message\|>Yin As the four were trying to figure out what was going on with their situation, the girl began to rouse. Strangely enough as she was becoming conscious, everyone would feel more mobile. They were able to move around her, though no further than five feet or so. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and looked around. For a moment she seemed shocked. She was quiet and you could all tell she was afraid. Yet at the same time, despite being so much smaller, so much weaker, there was a certain level of defiance within her. As if she was ready to fight despite how hopelessly outmatched she would be. "Who are you all? You're not... Did you just come here? You don't look like the monsters in these lands." Yin gulped. She had no weapons, not even a rock, but her hands were held tightly to her chest as if to protect her vitals. "I'm Yin... Do you all live here?" Whisper would also notice something now that they have awakened mentally. The altar the girl sat upon was dedicated to a certain deity. The name would elude them due to the void in their memories, but off the top of their heads Whisper could remember their had something to do with voyaging and safe passage: sensible things to want in this pastoral coastal ruin. Whisper himself would know that there are similar deities within the realm of death, such as the Ferryman of Souls. Perhaps it was no coincidence that Whisper would awaken here then, in this place meant to guide people to their destination, be it new lands or an afterlife. As for Graham, while most of his memories unrelated to his vengeance are also a blur, something about some of the ruined iconography was familiar. It was strange because the markings weren't anything like what was on the altar. But it would only take a moment for him to remember some cult or religion that was rather notable back in his city that had the tendency to plaster their symbols everywhere, especially in temples. Even if Graham is not a religious man, he would know that such graffiti had one purpose: marking an enemy area as your territory. Perhaps it was no time that brought this temple to ruin after all. That foreboding feeling was still coming. And for some it was heard. Tamzen was able to hear the flaps of a large winged creature: this was no mere bird. Something much bigger, and was moving fast and with purpose. It was uncertain to know if they realized Yin was here but Tamzen could at least recognize some flying creature was approaching the area due north. As for the others, Alsei would only need a short moment to realize that Yin was overly malnourished. Any strenuous physical activity would drain her quickly, and there was no doubt that if anything came by to attack her, her chances of survival was slim. The fact she survived for this long was nothing short of a miracle. PAL would approach, it's body largely functional however many parts of it's chassis and equipment were rusted and in a state of ruin. The flail heads were gone, likely lost underneath the sand, the tabard was eaten away but insects, and the shield was warped and rusted as well. It would take some time to fix PAL back to it's previous state, but it was still functional nonetheless.</s>	<\|message\|>Tamzen Silentflight As the other two introduced themselves, Tamzen looked over their new companions once again, eyes lingering on Whisper in particular. They hadn't encountered many kenku in their travels, but they were pretty sure that skeletal, eyeless face was not a common trait. Did it have something to do with how he had died? None of the others showed such severe disfigurements, meaning either the kenku's death had been particularly horrific or there was something else at play here. The halfling didn't have too long to comtemplate what to do about this before the woman on the altar finally awoke. Tamzen turned their head towards her. Just as they were about to open their mouth to answer her queries, however, their pointed ears suddenly pricked up as they became aware of large wingbeats, slowly growing louder and louder. "Something's coming," they said. They pointed northwards. "From over that way." They looked back at Yin. "It appears we are not safe here. Do you know how to fight?" They then glanced at the other members of the group. "Do any of you know how to fight or..." They looked down at their ghostly hands. Could they even fight like this? They weren't even sure if they could move, let alone hit something. They shook their head. "I think we should consider retreating, find a place to hide, get our bearings."</s>
<\|description\|>Tamzen Silentflight myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2537265 Appearance: Tamzen stands at about 3 foot 5. They have sandy skin, dark grey eyes and very short black hair that looks like they may have tried to cut it themself to... mixed results. They almost always where a wooden mask resembling horned owl, which hides the fact that their face is badly scarred with three deep claw marks, one narrowly missing their left eye. Their left ear also appears to have a small tear in it, while the right one has two piercings that resemble very large thorns. Their clothes are monk robes that use very warm, autumnal colours, though not in the best condition as they are all tattered and stained with dirt. Race: Ghostwise Halfling Occupation: Wanderer, healer and acolyte Memories: Tamzen heralds from a small, secluded village and all of their memories prior to leaving are actually quite vivid. They were the second of two children and in contrast to their responsible older brother - and the person they themself would eventually become - they were a something of a wild child. They were constantly disobeying the rules laid down by their parents and the village elders, and essentially bullying the other village children into going along with their various schemes. Eventually, this lead to an incident involving in which, on dare to see who was brave enough to enter a nearby cave, Tamzen and another young halfling were attacked by some kind of creature the likes of which neither had ever seen. Tamzen received a nasty claw to their face and their friend was almost killed, when a stranger wearing a goat mask fended on the creature and brought the two halflings back to their village. Tamzen had passed out during the journey but when they awoke, they found the wound on their face was healed - albeit leaving a rather nasty scar - and their friend in stable condition. The stranger, who they later found out was called Alda, had apparently used some kind of power to heal both of them in a way that none of the village healers could. Now, Tamzen's village was very wary of outsiders, and this particular stranger seemed to make them very uncomfortable. Alda was about the same height as a halfling but had a greenish tint to her skin, with oversized ears and hands that more resembled claws. However, she had saved two of their own, so she was permitted to stay in the village for a couple of days, though most of the people kept their distance from her and warned their young not to associate with her. Obviously, Tamzen didn't listen. They wanted to thank Alda for saving them and their friend - who they felt extremely guilty for putting in danger - and they rarely got the chance to speak to someone outside their village. So they managed to sneak into the small hut Alda was staying in and, over the next few days, the two started to form a friendship. Alda wasn't like the other adults in the village. She always answered their questions and told them about things they'd never heard of. For example, Alda explained she was part of an order dedicated to the restoration of the land. She told Tamzen that the land 'very, very sick', that this 'sickness' was responsible for creatures like the one that had attacked them, and if nothing was done, this sickness may cause this land - or even the entire world - to become uninhabitable. All members of this order wore animal masks in order to connect them to nature and remind them of their duty to the land. While Tamzen didn't entirely understand everything she said, they felt the urgency and importance of what Alda was doing, and felt a strong desire to help her, unlike anything they had ever felt. While they loved their village and the people in it, they'd always felt restless here, like they didn't quite belong. Compared to their peers and their older brother, they'd never felt like they had a place, never sure what they wanted to do with their life, which was probably part of the reason for their mischief. In Alda, they suddenly saw some sense of purpose, so when the day come that Alda was set to leave the village, Tamzen said they wanted to with them. Some of the village immediately took against this, obviously, as it had been a long time since one of them had left and saw it as a disturbance in the status quo. After all, if Tamzen left, what would stop others from following their example? On the other hand, not everyone felt that way. Some argued that Tamzen was coming to the age when they would be considered an adult, and still very reckless and bold. Perhaps this journey was what would be needed to calm their wild spirit and make them into an upstanding citizen. After much deliberating, the elders eventually decided to let Tamzen go, but before they left, as was tradition, they were given a small vial of water from the neighbouring river to be worn around their neck as a reminder of where they had come from. After that, Tamzen's memories become very patchwork. They spent a lot of time traveling, saw a lot of people and places, all the while learning from Alda. Alda taught Tamzen many things about both the order and the world in general, such as about various gods including a obscure nature deity that she and the other members of the order worshiped - though Tamzen can no longer recall the name of this deity - how to use one's life force to both heal AND hurt others, and how to speak and understand Terran and Primordial, both languages used by the order and the former of which used in all their scripture. During that time, Tamzen matured a great deal, losing their wilder nature and becoming entirely dedicated to their duty. Eventually, Alda gave Tamzen their own mask, which she had made herself, and resembled an owl in honour of Tamzen's surname 'Silentflight'. Tamzen also remembers that Alda did say after giving this mask that she was going to take them to meet the other members of their order to get fully inducted, though they can't remember if she ever got round to this. They also don't remember what happened to Alda, whether she died or left, only that at some point, Tamzen found themself traveling alone, though still fulfilling the teachings of their mentor. As for Tamzen's death, they don't remember how or when they died, nor do they seem to care much. In fact, they seem to find their new state merely a way for them to better fulfill their responsibilities, even seeing it as being in some way advantageous as they no longer feel burdened by the weaknesses of the living. They also have gotten it into their heads that the Gestalt is some sort of saviour figure, that they are the answer to saving this land that their order was trying so desperately to find, and that the spirits that are bound to the Gestalt are key to aiding this cause. Other: - Goes by they/them pronouns. - Despite claiming that the past is past and that their fellow spirits should forget about their past lives to focus fully on helping the Gestalt, Tamzen is very protective of the vial of water given to them by the village and will become very anxious if it is endangered. - Tamzen almost never removes their mask in the presence of others, partly due to their loyalty to their order but also because they don't want people to see their scars. This isn't so much because they hate the look of the scars themselves but because they are a reminder of their recklessness during youth, which they feel a great deal of shame towards.</s> <\|message\|>Graham Douglas From where he was sitting, Graham pulled out his bubble pipe and began 'smoking' it. As he did so, he became aware of a number of eight-pointed stars graffitied all across the temple. Graham was familiar with this type of graffiti. He'd frequently used his own version of it over his many campaigns of underworld conquest at the head of the Lamb Street Shanks. It was the sort of graffiti that was left behind after an attack to let people know just who it was that rolled on through and set fire to everything. Most of the gangs Graham had dealt with hadn't been religious in nature, the closest he'd ever come being some pirates led by a hobgoblin paladin. But even so, Graham had seen these symbols before when he was alive. They belonged to a cult that paid homage to the Bright for power or protection. They never made an effort to oppose him and he had never antagonized them, so Graham didn't know much about them. But he did know that a good portion of the Lamb Street Shanks were also members of this cult. Graham didn't remember there being a quiet costal village near the city he lived in though, so he wondered what these symbols were doing here. Perhaps the cults operation was farther reaching than he thought. Or perhaps they had moved or expanded far beyond the city between Graham's death and now. Either way, Graham put those thoughts aside as Yin woke up and spoke. "Graham Douglas." Graham introduced himself a second time once Yin was done talking. "We just got 'ere through some magical shenanigan or another and were just as puzzled as you are on 'ow that 'appened." When Tamzen mentioned that something was coming and suggested they run and hide, Graham was deeply offended by the notion. "Bugger that!" Graham exclaimed. "If whatever's comin' this way is a threat, I say we kill it!" With that said, Graham put away his pipe, pulled out his crossbow, and readied himself for battle.</s> <\|message\|>Whisper "Yin. Graham Douglas. Tamzen Silentflight. Alssssei Cogsssspeaker." The chorus of voices rolled out from the hooded Kenku, a perfect copy of each being reflected back to their speakers. He shifted, flowing like a rolling cloud of fog in his shadowy form towards the Altar- and towards Yin. She would be permitted, indirectly, to see into his hood and to see the abominable visage that he possesses as he quietly contemplates the Altar. Oh, how his mind failed him! A lifetime of a body that creaked and groaned only to lose his mind as a spirit! It set nerves- Nerves that shouldn't function, he has no glands or organs for them to connect to after all- on edge. At the alrert of Danger, the Kenku's feathers flattened out and smoothed down. This simple thing resulted in Whisper losing most of his volume and his robes shifting as if something beneath them were alive as his stature was reduced to that of a gaunt frame beneath the black of his attire. Truly, in life, he must have been miserable. Whirling the scythe slowly in his hands, his beak parted; "You don't look like the monsters in these lands." He echoed back to Yin, shadows flowing down his arms and along the scythe. These shadows formed into a larger cloud that Whisper suddenly turned and slashed the Scythe through; the cloud erupting around Yin and melding her into the shadows as well. [Action: Spell Slot expended to Cast Invisibility upon Yin]. "Find a place to hide, kill it, fullfill your duty as Guardian!." he declared to the group. Whisper's scythe stilled in the air, trembling as the magic flowed off him and over Yin. The beak parted one final time, whispering to Yin in a strange kaleidoscope of voices; "Somethin' dangerous is 'eaded this way, we are not safe here I fear we might not have much time. My name issss... Whisper." the final voice was once again that wondrously pleasant female voice he couldn't quite recall.</s> <\|message\|>Yin Yin was confused why these people were here, though at the same time she didn't feel too... Threaten, at least not by them. It was a strange feeling, almost familiar? But there wasn't really any time to question it. Soon a loud, ear piercing screech ripped through the air. Yin looked around scared before glancing back to Tamzen. "I... I don't know how to fight. But I know how to hide." The church wasn't a very great place to hide as it was quite open, lacking doors and most of it's roof. Yin ran out of the ruined temple and the others would feel themselves get pulled alongside her. Yin moved somewhat quick, but it helped that she was very light and spry. She ran out of the temple and looked around for a place to hide. Lots of ruins that wouldn't provide much cover, but there was a well in the distance. Yin could potentially hide down there, assuming there wasn't anything lurking within. But as the young woman was running towards the well, the others would see something in the sky. The shadow it cast looked like a woman... But the physical body was that of a monster. The creature was about 200 feet away, and flying towards Yin. She dove behind a wall and held her breath, hoping the beast hadn't spotted her. However from the way it was flying closer, it may be too late for Yin... But not for the spirits. Though they couldn't stray far from her, they were unimpeded by the physical barriers around her. They were able to phase out of the wall and floor, and the weapons on their back had weight and heft to them. Even if Yin could not fight, perhaps these spirits could. Or at least do something to help Yin escape this flying beast, as her heartbeat and heavy breathing was revealing her position to any creature with keen senses.</s>	<\|message\|>Tamzen Silentflight While it was partially obscured by their mask, Tamzen had shot a pretty fierce glare in Graham's direction. The man had completely regarded their concerns, seemingly ignorant of the kind of troublesome position they were in. "Listen," Tamzen said. Had they been able to move, they might have taken a step towards Graham, as if in an attempt to intimidate him. However, their feet remained anchored to where they had first spawned, and instead they could only lean forward slightly to get their point across. "We don't even know if we can fight in our current state, do you really think-" They were cut off suddenly when Whisper spoke again. He chanted each of the group's names in turn, perfectly mimicking the sound of each of their voices. It took all of Tamzen's will not to shudder as hearing their own voice coming out of another's mouth... err, beak. Then the Kenku did something else unexpected. With a flick of his scythe, he enveloped Yin in a shroud of darkness, causing her to disappear completely from sight. Tamzen's body tensed again, only to immediately relax once he realised what had happened. A spell... the Kenku had used a spell to hide Yin. "Magic still works, it seems," Tamzen muttered, more to themself than anyone else. Still, that didn't help them much. Their power didn't come from magic - not in the traditional sense, anyway - but from the energy that runs through all living things, that which some monastic traditions referred to as 'ki'. Tamzen glanced down at their hands, grimacing slightly. If their power was tied to life force, and they were no longer alive, how could they still possibly use it? They didn't have much time to ponder on this however, as a loud piercing shriek sounded from the sky. Tamzen tensed up again. They heard Yin admit that she didn't know how to fight, and they had to resist the urge to mutter another curse. It couldn't be helped. "We need to get her out of here," Tamzen said to the others, though those words were barely out of their mouth before both they and their new compatriots were suddenly pulled away from the temple. "What..." As they couldn't see Yin, it took a long moment to realise that she had bolted, and in the process had pulled them along. Eventually, they came to stop a few feet away from the well. "... ok," they said. They were starting to sound exhausted. This was just too much, and just when they thought they could barely handle any more of this chaos, they spotted the shadow on the ground. Tamzen raised their head up towards the sky, and muttered another halfling curse to themself as they caught sight of the creature. It seemed, despite Whisper's spell, it was still making a beeline towards Yin. "What do we do now?" they asked the others, unable to hide the slowly building panic in their voice.</s>
<\|description\|>Whisper Appearance Whisper is a Kenku; a feathered biped whose wings falter and fail, whose voice dies, and whose dreams of creation are stymied by a divine curse generations in the making. All things considered, he maintains strange cheeriness and aloofness from his circumstances. It's quite impressive for a bird whose body more closely resembles an incorrectly constructed puppet mixed with a leaking water balloon than a living creature. The Bright has cursed Whisper with a form most egregious, indeed; bones protrude from his wings, from his limbs, granting him a shambling and gangling gait- his living motion plagued by discomforting protrusions and difficulties in ambulation. To top it off, most of his face has slipped away- leaving behind skeleton and beak, hollow eyes as black as the first Night gazing ever outward. It is a form contrived of the stuff of nightmares, and it belongs to a very misunderstood creature. Race Kenku Occupation "Death isn't cruel - merely terribly, terribly good at his job." -Terry Pratchett Death's Apprentice - Warlock of the Grim Reaper Memories Whisper's final moments flashed before his lidless eyes yet again. The light. So bright. So all encompassing. Such totality. He could scarcely remember what was there before the light- and yet his mind raced. Yearned. Forced form into being, drawing upon the fragments of power that remained in his spirit as it drifted through the Inbetween. Forgetting who you were was common. Forgetting those you loved came easy. Clinging to the past, to purpose, to people- that is what gives the spirit definition. That is what Whisper sought to do. What caused panic was that the Light seemed to not be satisfied with merely eviscerating his body; it also clung to his very soul. On one hand, regaining his shape came easy. On the other, this unnatural tie was worrisome. There was no time to worry about it right now. Whisper drifted through the darkness of the afterlife, being dragged out from the shadows he knew he belonged, and towards the world of Light once more. As Life rushed to meet Whisper, so too did memory. Blinding light. Definition. Shape. Quadruped, a great wall of muscle- it was the Steed. The horse stamped its hooves. Snorted. Even in the face of this immense danger, it remained aloof Next came its rider, a gaunt figure. Hooded and bestride the great beast, a single skeletal hand gripped the reigns. A resurgence of memory followed that image- definition and tangibility exploding into reality through the Light, bringing with it darkness and tone. Whisper could imagine the feeling of the ground beneath his feet. He could almost taste the air as the scene played out before him. THERE IS NO ESCAPING IT. ALL THINGS MUST END. SO TOO MUST THIS KINGDOM His master's voice was like the closing of coffin lids, a booming tone that echoed from the beginnings of time and spoke of an inevitability that would reach through the future until the end of all things. It was a voice that had once made Whisper shiver, but now brought him calmness. It was the voice of the entity who had gazed upon his wretched form so long ago and given it purpose. FATE'S STRINGS ARE PULLED TAUGHT, MY BOY. HEED MY WORDS AND CARRY THEM WELL. YOU WILL BE TRIED. TESTED. TEMPTED. MEDDLING IS NOT OUR WAY; THE FATES CHOOSE THEIR TOOLS AND WE OBSERVE. THIS, HOWEVER, DISRUPTS THAT ORDER. THE GODS THEMSELVES HAVE SOUGHT TO HIDE IT AWAY. WE WILL NOT BE DENIED SO EASILY. At the time, the words had been hollow to Whisper. Even now as he listens again and again to the words of his Master, his feathers rise and his bones creak. His beak opens- a warning cry of ravens echoing out of his spectral throat. Beyond Death's horse, silhouetted in the light, rose a figure who wielded great power. Death's shadow, born of blackest night and the dreams of the abyss itself, was unwavering in the light even as his physical form was slowly absorbed by the oppressive brightness radiating from that figure. Soon it was all that consumed Whisper's vision. That figure, radiating light. His flesh melting away, his spectral form evaporating in its might. And yet Death's shadow remained, seen walking through the light as carefree as any other day. A final message ringing in Whisper's ears. THIS IS NOT THE END, MY BOY. DEATH IS ONLY A BEGINNING. FORGET NOT YOUR PURPOSE. SET THINGS RIGHT. Whisper relived this memory ceaselessly. Chasing himself and memories of his master through it. Every excruciating moment of death and radiant bane brought with it a relived insight of clarity. Again and again Whisper yearned to grasp onto the Fell energies his master instilled within him and break free of the hold the Light had on him. Time and time again he heard his master's words. When he awoke, finally escaping the cycle of death and life, the final image of a great tower rising behind the silhouetted figure of power had seared itself into his mind. Whatever had happened, whoever that creature was who could temporarily banish Death itself was, Whisper's answers and purpose could be found there. Years ago, there was a thief. Silent as an unspoken idea and deft as a street performer with a spare hand for change. She was damn good at what she did to keep it short, but not good enough to avoid the yearnings of the heart and the ache of loneliness. This thief bore a child- but let us back up a few scenes, shall we? Her name was Bellarmina. However, and you try saying that with a tape recorder that has never had that name recorded upon it, the common name accepted for this thief was Bell. Bell was a damn good thief who was slowing down for some reason, and she would learn why too late; Bell, unbeknownst to herself, was with Child. Ordinarily a wonderful thing (depending on persuasion), but in this case merely a tragic thing. A Witch is someone who is lightly trifled with and usually for only good cause; a Witch in the Bright Lands is a creature best avoided at all costs. Bell crossed one such witch, a heist gone astray leading to blades flying and curses being thrown. Bloodied and ensorcelled, Bell had to flee with the Witch's flying broomstick in hand- and a darkness at work within the child she carried. For the record, Bellarmina tried her best. Truly, she did. Giving birth to a heap of bones and feathers would fray at anyone's sanity, which in these lands is something already quite infirm as it stands, and the struggle to support an infant whose face was truly something only a mother could love in a hostile world helped her regain her edge. But in the end, Bellarmina was in a corner. She kept the broomstick. She abandoned the baby. Leaving it in the wilderness, not capable of ending the wretched thing's life herself, Bellarmina flew away to leave the horribleness behind. Emotionally speaking, that is. What came along later was not some foul creature or mutated beast- but rather the trotting of a large and impressive horse. Its rider pulled out a sheet of parchment, then referenced a broken hourglass in a bony hand. THERE IS ALWAYS SOMETHING, ISN'T THERE? NEVER A SIMPLE DAY OF WORK ANYMORE. IT IS NOT YOUR TIME, LITTLE ONE. When the figure spoke first to Whisper as a child, its timeless boom of a voice made him weep. Being lifted into the skeletal arms of the Pale Horse's Rider, however, brought about a calmness that rivaled the dead. In silence, the wretched Whisper grabbed at the broken Hourglass. YOU MAY KEEP THAT, I SUPPOSE. IT IS YOURS AFTER ALL. Other I intended to add more backstory, but what I consider to be the core idea of the character is present and am debating leaving the rest as 'regained' memories down the line as he 'regains' his power.</s> <\|message\|>Tamzen Silentflight While it was partially obscured by their mask, Tamzen had shot a pretty fierce glare in Graham's direction. The man had completely regarded their concerns, seemingly ignorant of the kind of troublesome position they were in. "Listen," Tamzen said. Had they been able to move, they might have taken a step towards Graham, as if in an attempt to intimidate him. However, their feet remained anchored to where they had first spawned, and instead they could only lean forward slightly to get their point across. "We don't even know if we can fight in our current state, do you really think-" They were cut off suddenly when Whisper spoke again. He chanted each of the group's names in turn, perfectly mimicking the sound of each of their voices. It took all of Tamzen's will not to shudder as hearing their own voice coming out of another's mouth... err, beak. Then the Kenku did something else unexpected. With a flick of his scythe, he enveloped Yin in a shroud of darkness, causing her to disappear completely from sight. Tamzen's body tensed again, only to immediately relax once he realised what had happened. A spell... the Kenku had used a spell to hide Yin. "Magic still works, it seems," Tamzen muttered, more to themself than anyone else. Still, that didn't help them much. Their power didn't come from magic - not in the traditional sense, anyway - but from the energy that runs through all living things, that which some monastic traditions referred to as 'ki'. Tamzen glanced down at their hands, grimacing slightly. If their power was tied to life force, and they were no longer alive, how could they still possibly use it? They didn't have much time to ponder on this however, as a loud piercing shriek sounded from the sky. Tamzen tensed up again. They heard Yin admit that she didn't know how to fight, and they had to resist the urge to mutter another curse. It couldn't be helped. "We need to get her out of here," Tamzen said to the others, though those words were barely out of their mouth before both they and their new compatriots were suddenly pulled away from the temple. "What..." As they couldn't see Yin, it took a long moment to realise that she had bolted, and in the process had pulled them along. Eventually, they came to stop a few feet away from the well. "... ok," they said. They were starting to sound exhausted. This was just too much, and just when they thought they could barely handle any more of this chaos, they spotted the shadow on the ground. Tamzen raised their head up towards the sky, and muttered another halfling curse to themself as they caught sight of the creature. It seemed, despite Whisper's spell, it was still making a beeline towards Yin. "What do we do now?" they asked the others, unable to hide the slowly building panic in their voice.</s> <\|message\|>Graham Douglas "What do we do now?" Graham heard Tamzen ask in panic. "Now we kill it, of course." Graham said as he stowed his bubble pipe and drew his heavy crossbow. "That ugly bitch up there is a Peryton. It's 'ungry for 'earts, and once yer 'eart is on the menu the only way it's gettin' off is by killin' the one what placed the order. If ya got a ranged weapon, start shootin'. If ya got magic use that instead. Normal stuff can still 'urt a Peryton, but not as much as it should. An' if yer invisible, keep it that way. It's senses are keen enough to find ya without bein' able to see ya, but it'll still 'ave trouble gettin' an 'it in if yer invisible." With that said, Graham took aim and fired. Action: Graham attacks the Peryton with his heavy crossbow. He rolls a 13 to hit and a 9 to damage.</s>	<\|message\|>Whisper Whisper's movements were guided by Yin's hasty exodus, and in silence the shrouded spectral kenku observed. He listened. Even his silence has a grave weight to it, which was perhaps aided by the unnerving realization he could- and would- mimic anything said nearby. The shadow of the creature drew Whisper's gaze about, and the kenku's movements were in a languid sort of lethargy as his companions conversed and readied themselves; The bones creaked. The hands tightened. The robes shifted uneasily as the Kenku brought the heavy scythe up in its hands and raised the weapon back. Its ghostly form shifted, moving to the wall that Yin had chosen to hide behind, and prepared itself there; almost as if trying to physically shield the invisible girl from harm. Some part of Whisper's mind clicked its beak at himself; this act was a foolish one, he was no more tangible than a thought. His grip adjusted on the scythe's handles as he considered this, and steeled himself to protect the girl nontheless. He remained utterly silent, even as the time eventually came to swing the Scythe silently through the air in a motion that seemed as practiced as the most skilled farmer's own harvesting technique. --- Mechanics Initiative Roll if required: 11 Held Action even if Whisper's turn comes up before the Peryton's in formal initiative: Attack With Pact Scythe if Peryton Enters Reach [Reminder: Scythe has Reach property, so 10 foot threat area!] Attack Roll: 26: Critical Hit! Attack Damage: 10! Magical Slashing damage</s>
<\|description\|>Graham Douglas Appearance Race: Human Occupation: Thug/Gang Leader Memories: Much of Graham's memories are shrouded in the fog of death, but he remembers bits and pieces and he most certainly remembers his end. He was born into a family on the... well not the rich side of town that's for sure. He doesn't remember whether he was middle class or poor but he does remember joining a gang, the Lamb Street Shanks. Why Graham did this he does not recall. It was either something about family, something about revenge, or something about gold. Whatever the reason, Graham joined the Shanks. Eventually, the Shanks' founder got himself killed, something about a gang war or a guard crackdown, and someone had to take his place. After breaking a few faces and crushing a few windpipes, Graham got the job. When Graham joined, the Shanks' territory barely reached beyond Lamb Street. By the time Graham took the helm, that had not changed. The first thing Graham did was correct that. Graham began a campaign of rapid outward expansion, pushing aside defiant rivals and meddling guards with contemptuous ease as he went. But just as the height of his power seemed to be in his grasp, Graham was met with the one challenge he could not so easily contend with: Those who stood behind him. Paxton Truter, Graham's right hand man, who handled the finer points of wrangling the Shanks while Graham focused on the ambitious broad strokes. After watching Graham work for a time from the position he held at the boss' back, Paxton figured that he could handle both the finer points and the broad strokes easily enough. And so, Paxton went from having Graham's back to stabbing it. But while that would have been the end for most, it was not so for Graham. Instead of moving onto whatever the afterlife had in store for him, Graham's soul found itself bound to a gestalt. This turn of events, though surprising, was certainly not unwelcome. Graham saw it as an opportunity, a chance to track down his backstabbing right hand and reduce him to a bloody stump. All he needed to do was find away to convince Yin and the rest of them to go along with it. Other: In life and in death, Graham carries a curious smoking pipe. Nothing can be placed in the pipe, nor can it be lit. But should someone attempt to use it, the pipe produces bubbles. Graham does not remember how he came upon the pipe, but he does remember that he finds the act of blowing bubbles from it therapeutic.</s> <\|message\|>Tamzen Silentflight When the shortest of the four spirits awoke, their first instinct upon finding themself among these spectral strangers was to get into a defensive stance. While their expression was hidden behind a mask, the distrusting glint in their eyes as their gaze swept over each member of the group was unmistakable. Eventually, their sight rest on the woman asleep on the altar. At the sight of her, the masked spirit felt themselves relax slightly, though they weren't sure why. She was just as unknown to them as the others. However, unlike them, she seemed to be tangible, alive, and not in the best condition due to hunger. A strange feeling of... protectiveness passed over the small spirit and they attempted to approach the woman, only to find they couldn't move. Frustrated, they muttered something under their breath. It sounded like it was in halfling, but even if the other spirits couldn't understand it, they could probably tell it was some kind of curse. It was at this point one of the other spirits, a (seemingly) human woman with an unusual green eyes spoke up, introducing herself to the rest of them as Alsei. The masked halfling glanced at her, scrutinizing her once again. She didn't seem hostile, at least not towards current company. In fact, her sense of urgency and her willingness to be the first to speak up meant that the halfling couldn't help but respect her, even if they still weren't sure if they could trust her. "Tamzen," they grunted in response. "Tamzen Silentflight." They watched as Alsei then started scanning the surroundings in search of something she referred to as 'PAL'. Tamzen followed the woman's gaze towards a shape sitting submerged in the sand that, on closer inspection, appear vaguely humanoid in shape. How had Tamzen not noticed that before? They'd have to be much more alert going forward if they wanted to figure out what was going on.</s> <\|message\|>Whisper It was too bright. The vestiges of power that the Kenku had clung to were beginning to burn away. Memories fragmented- slipped away- disappeared- and with them so too did the power that was granted to Whisper by his Patron and Master. Greatness was stripped from his very soul, power and purpose eradicated in the oppressive light of these Bright Lands... Finally the cycle of death and visions was broken, finally his spirit could try to piece itself back together with the echo of his Master's voice in his mind. and what remained was the shell of Death's Apprentice. A being coalescing of shadows, murky and bestowed of an abyssal gloom, took form in the recesses of the Altar that Yin had lain upon. The wretched form of Whisper- a puppet without strings, bones holding up a shell of skin and feathers, a faceless horror of skull and beak, an eyeless creature ever watching- solidified in this place of darkness and rose from it into visibility. At first it was as if the strange Kenku were asleep, its body somewhat curled in on itself, but in short order the spectral creature unfurled and presented itself to the others. Its robes were dark and heavy, the feathers of a dense and dark cloak blending with his natural plumage where possible- and offering some semblance of coverage for his gangling and strange appearance in others. His arms moved stiffly, the quiet creak of bones apparent in his otherwise languid movements; he raised his arms up and pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head, stifling most of the skull into shadow that left his beak protruding out into the visible strata of light. Quietly, almost purely to himself, the beak parted to utter a phrase in a voice as timeless and as booming as the thudding of tombstones into earth; DEATH IS ONLY A BEGINNING. The hood shifts, attention moving to speaking voices. Feathers rise, danger sensed. An arm reaches out into empty air, a hand only half-covered by flesh and feather stretching and coiling experimentally. Seemingly satisfied, the creature's hand suddenly closed tightly into the air as shadows whirled about its spectral form and coalesced into the form of a large reaping scythe, which it brought about to bear in both hands. Gripping this weapon tightly seemed to bring about an air of comfort to the strange Kenku, and as the hood tilted down to give the impression of a gaze being lowered Whisper appraised the girl on the altar. A weighty inspection. "I think we shall call you Whisper." This time when the Kenku's beak parted, the soft and pleasant tones of a woman's voice slipped from the beak. It occurred to Whisper that he had no recollection of who the voice had belonged to even as the words left his beak. This made his grip on the scythe tighten visibly as he lowered his head further. Damn that insufferable Brightness. He would remember with time... But for now, he resolved himself to protect this girl. Whoever she was, she did not deserve this fate. He decided this suddenly, but he felt secure and comfortable in the resolution. So far, keeping her alive was the only thing that made any sense- and he still remembered enough to know that keeping people alive was most certainly not his ordinary order of business. There was never a simple day of work anymore. --- Mechanical tidbits; Summoned Pact of the Blade weapon, re-flavored 'Halberd' as a Scythe</s> <\|message\|>Graham Douglas One moment, Graham Douglas had been the undisputed master of all he surveyed. The next, he had been bleeding out on the ground, a knife shoved into his back by his traitorous right hand man. And now here he was. Rather than heading off to whatever afterlife was waiting for him, Graham instead found himself in a crumbling temple with with a bunch of other dead people all surrounding a girl who was still clearly alive and sleeping soundly on the temple's altar. Though he was incapable of moving away from where he appeared, Graham had the fortune of appearing within sitting distance of one of the few long chairs that time had yet to break beyond use. As he sat down, Graham heard the others start talking and introducing themselves, so Graham figured he'd get in on that. "Graham Douglas." Graham introduced himself. "By the by, does anyone else 'ave this strange feelin' in the back o' their 'eads that somethin' dangerous is 'eaded this way or is that just death makin' me go a bit loopy?"</s> <\|message\|>Yin As the four were trying to figure out what was going on with their situation, the girl began to rouse. Strangely enough as she was becoming conscious, everyone would feel more mobile. They were able to move around her, though no further than five feet or so. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, and looked around. For a moment she seemed shocked. She was quiet and you could all tell she was afraid. Yet at the same time, despite being so much smaller, so much weaker, there was a certain level of defiance within her. As if she was ready to fight despite how hopelessly outmatched she would be. "Who are you all? You're not... Did you just come here? You don't look like the monsters in these lands." Yin gulped. She had no weapons, not even a rock, but her hands were held tightly to her chest as if to protect her vitals. "I'm Yin... Do you all live here?" Whisper would also notice something now that they have awakened mentally. The altar the girl sat upon was dedicated to a certain deity. The name would elude them due to the void in their memories, but off the top of their heads Whisper could remember their had something to do with voyaging and safe passage: sensible things to want in this pastoral coastal ruin. Whisper himself would know that there are similar deities within the realm of death, such as the Ferryman of Souls. Perhaps it was no coincidence that Whisper would awaken here then, in this place meant to guide people to their destination, be it new lands or an afterlife. As for Graham, while most of his memories unrelated to his vengeance are also a blur, something about some of the ruined iconography was familiar. It was strange because the markings weren't anything like what was on the altar. But it would only take a moment for him to remember some cult or religion that was rather notable back in his city that had the tendency to plaster their symbols everywhere, especially in temples. Even if Graham is not a religious man, he would know that such graffiti had one purpose: marking an enemy area as your territory. Perhaps it was no time that brought this temple to ruin after all. That foreboding feeling was still coming. And for some it was heard. Tamzen was able to hear the flaps of a large winged creature: this was no mere bird. Something much bigger, and was moving fast and with purpose. It was uncertain to know if they realized Yin was here but Tamzen could at least recognize some flying creature was approaching the area due north. As for the others, Alsei would only need a short moment to realize that Yin was overly malnourished. Any strenuous physical activity would drain her quickly, and there was no doubt that if anything came by to attack her, her chances of survival was slim. The fact she survived for this long was nothing short of a miracle. PAL would approach, it's body largely functional however many parts of it's chassis and equipment were rusted and in a state of ruin. The flail heads were gone, likely lost underneath the sand, the tabard was eaten away but insects, and the shield was warped and rusted as well. It would take some time to fix PAL back to it's previous state, but it was still functional nonetheless.</s> <\|message\|>Tamzen Silentflight As the other two introduced themselves, Tamzen looked over their new companions once again, eyes lingering on Whisper in particular. They hadn't encountered many kenku in their travels, but they were pretty sure that skeletal, eyeless face was not a common trait. Did it have something to do with how he had died? None of the others showed such severe disfigurements, meaning either the kenku's death had been particularly horrific or there was something else at play here. The halfling didn't have too long to comtemplate what to do about this before the woman on the altar finally awoke. Tamzen turned their head towards her. Just as they were about to open their mouth to answer her queries, however, their pointed ears suddenly pricked up as they became aware of large wingbeats, slowly growing louder and louder. "Something's coming," they said. They pointed northwards. "From over that way." They looked back at Yin. "It appears we are not safe here. Do you know how to fight?" They then glanced at the other members of the group. "Do any of you know how to fight or..." They looked down at their ghostly hands. Could they even fight like this? They weren't even sure if they could move, let alone hit something. They shook their head. "I think we should consider retreating, find a place to hide, get our bearings."</s>	<\|message\|>Graham Douglas From where he was sitting, Graham pulled out his bubble pipe and began 'smoking' it. As he did so, he became aware of a number of eight-pointed stars graffitied all across the temple. Graham was familiar with this type of graffiti. He'd frequently used his own version of it over his many campaigns of underworld conquest at the head of the Lamb Street Shanks. It was the sort of graffiti that was left behind after an attack to let people know just who it was that rolled on through and set fire to everything. Most of the gangs Graham had dealt with hadn't been religious in nature, the closest he'd ever come being some pirates led by a hobgoblin paladin. But even so, Graham had seen these symbols before when he was alive. They belonged to a cult that paid homage to the Bright for power or protection. They never made an effort to oppose him and he had never antagonized them, so Graham didn't know much about them. But he did know that a good portion of the Lamb Street Shanks were also members of this cult. Graham didn't remember there being a quiet costal village near the city he lived in though, so he wondered what these symbols were doing here. Perhaps the cults operation was farther reaching than he thought. Or perhaps they had moved or expanded far beyond the city between Graham's death and now. Either way, Graham put those thoughts aside as Yin woke up and spoke. "Graham Douglas." Graham introduced himself a second time once Yin was done talking. "We just got 'ere through some magical shenanigan or another and were just as puzzled as you are on 'ow that 'appened." When Tamzen mentioned that something was coming and suggested they run and hide, Graham was deeply offended by the notion. "Bugger that!" Graham exclaimed. "If whatever's comin' this way is a threat, I say we kill it!" With that said, Graham put away his pipe, pulled out his crossbow, and readied himself for battle.</s>
<\|description\|>Age \| Gender \| Height \| Weight Student Roster [anime appearance] Nation \| Major \| Specialization Their Story As little and as much as you need to explain the general bits and pieces that made who your character is, how they became recognized as one of the world's best and brightest, and why they've decided to fall in with shady organizations and become a spy. --- Organization: Only the name, please. Current Mission: I'll fill this out in a PM. Secret: I'll fill this out in a PM. Solomon Antedivula 17 y/o \| Male \| 5'10 \| 142 lbs The Nation of the Rose King, France \| Egoism \| Prehensile Blood Solomon was just a poor boy living in a first-generation immigrant's family on the countryside of France. As a child, he worked tirelessly on the sunny hills of the Rose King's domain. Sadly, he was bullied in school for not being into baguettes. One day while he was being bullied, a wandering Mongolian horseback archer came by and took a shine to the kid for a plot-based reason. They taught him the fundamentals of Egoism, exchanged telephone numbers with the lad, and over the course of many years, Solomon telecommuted his Polymath training, having the grit and determination to essentially self-study a wide field of works while also engaging in lots of self-reflection. And then, on his twelfth birthday, he decided that he could do it. With a scalpel, a mirror, and a towel, he carved his first set of Formula upon his back during the early hours of the morning, and was irrevocably changed. Word spread quick of the Self-Made Polymath of Ardennes, and Solomon vibed with that, even though he wasn't really sure what he should do with this outside of training more. But when that same Mongolian mounted archer called him again and offered him a job, Solomon knew. Debts were to be paid, and kindness could not be left unrewarded. Some years later, he secured his position in Bermuda, as an agent of Khan Academy, a "non-profit organization meant to make education available for all." --- Organization: Khan Academy Mission: Befriend the Student Council President, PC 1. Secret: Solomon is actually a double agent. His true allegiance lies with the Greatest Bond, a crime syndicate operating in Germany, who has gained his loyalty by teaching him of the wonders of steamed bread.</s> <\|message\|>Franz Steiner @Click This@Yankee@banjoanjo@Medili --- The dinner party continued as normal. Franz paid full attention to Bang and Nazca's presentations. However, he spent little time thinking about the possibilities they opened up. There was no point in pondering problems he had neither the information or care to solve. The truth of Jeanne's innocence was not a matter Franz cared for at all. But it was still important to be viewed in a light where that was the case, so he would continue eating while feigning a captivated interest. Once Inti had finished, Franz reached for a napkin and politely cleaned around his mouth before addressing Bang and Nazca with a pleasant smile. "You two have certainly made a lot of progress for this investigation. It must be quite time consuming, no? I think it is a noble act to suspend your academic goals in the pursuit of justice. With only a short amount of time, we have not a second to lose of course." Franz turned to Jeanne. "As for my contribution Jeanne, I implore you to mark out the student record as requested by tonight so I may receive it by mail tomorrow morning. My investigation skill pales in comparison to what Bang and Nazca have demonstrated, but I am good with people. That registry will let me know exactly who's door to knock on." Returning to his meal, Franz didn't talk much about the investigation for the rest of the night. Instead, he spent the time with inconsequential small talk until it was time for him to depart back to his accommodations. --- Franz had no plans to skip curfew. After all he had no method to pass by the locking system effectively. Even if such a thing was in his possession, he had no reason to skip curfew. Franz settled for a bit of violin practice before going to bed and getting a good night's sleep. ---</s> <\|message\|>Higashiakemi Ryuuko --- @Click This@Yankee@banjoanjo@Jumbus Ryuuko listened to the others talk while finishing up with her meal. Information were exchanged, some new and some were confirmations of what she already knew. Good progress were definitely made in this first day that marked the start of their investigation. Things remained inconclusive, and a defense still needed to be made... But they still have two more days for that. And besides, there was still time yet to do more today, even in the lateness of night. It was something that Ryuuko had been considering to do depending on what information were discovered by the team. "Alright then. I have an idea of something to do to possibly get us even closer to nailing this thing." Ryuuko grinned wide while pushing her eyeglasses up by the bridge of it with the middle finger of her right hand. "It's pretty obvious, but what the heck I'll state it nonetheless. As we all know, that Robespierre kid's prosecution focus is on making out this whole thing as if it's the fact that Jeanne's the only one that's guilty about what happened. So, we really need to bag this manbat person or at least find more evidences of their involvement with the incidence, thus allowing us to call bull on that kid's primary point of argument." She paused a bit as she considered her next statements. "Now, we also know that this manbat themselves claimed that they're an opportunist... Yes, we don't know exactly what they meant by that, but I feel that we might as well do a gambit by baiting this opportunist with an, well, opportunity. A bait that they will hopefully take. That is to say... I'm going to break the curfew tonight and see if the manbat will show up again or not." "Now, of course, this doesn't necessarily mean there will be a fight or some other such... dramatic happening. To that end, I'm wondering if any of you have an audio recording device that I can borrow. Nazca maybe?" She looked at the Abya Yalan girl as she spoke so, continuing "If not, then even just a camera will do. Anyways, in the end, the point is to collect potential evidences to build our defense... So I am open if anyone have more ideas of what I should do or bring with me while I'm out breaking the curfew. To make the most out of it and such. Or hey... Maybe any of you would like to accompany me on this endeavor? Haha." Ryuuko then sipped on some drink as she finished speaking. However, she soon spoke up again after remembering a certain thing that she had forgotten to mention. "Ah, right. One more thing." She turned to look at Jeanne, giving the Frenchwomen a friendly smile as she addressed her directly "Jeanne, I'd like to ask you to please stay put for tonight. After all, we need to keep you out of trouble for the sake of us all. Surely you understand, yes?"</s> <\|message\|>Yun Hana Hana Yun Hana returned to her room as the evening wore on. It would be good to investigate the island by night, as doubtless several of her fellow polymaths had already, but she was in no hurry to do so. Jeanne's alleged activities of the previous evening didn't have her particularly excited to explore without full preparations. And besides, she had a few things to do during a night in. The first, was calling after one Angelo Beloco. The second, while she was at it, would be getting in touch with Mr. Porter. If he was interested in a collaboration, it was worth arranging things with him, as well. So it was that, some time after dinner, she sat down next to her telephone to ask the operator to connect her. Hopefully, nobody was otherwise engaged at the time.</s>	<\|message\|>Age \| Gender \| Height \| Weight EE 87, May 5 \| Night And thus sounded the blasted bell once more, heralding the lightning that sealed the buildings, the incursion of that all-consuming mist. Ten chimes rang with cacophonous, metered rage, and this time, the sudden locking down of every exit point did not come to a surprise to any of the residents within the isolated island. Now was the time for the night, for clandestine encounters and the advancement of schemes. Within the muted light of the fog-shrouded streets, shadows stirred, pursuing disjointed goals. The dinner party had concluded, dishes scoured and discarded, the guests leaving to do whatever work they wished, or to seek the rest that they believed they deserved. In the end, Ryuuko, seeking adventure and excitement, had left the apartments with Nazca, searching for any sign of the rumoured manbat, leaving Bang to chaperone their fractious charge. Throughout their discussions and studies about what had transpired the night before, Jeanne remained largely mute, only watching them speak and intermittently picking at her food. The Frenchwoman affected once more a sense of uninvolved cool, and despite Franz's request, she had not done more than flip through a few pages of the censored student register before tossing it to a couch. Jeanne herself sat by the window, her eyes squinting against the blinding Formula that made alteration impossible, her gaze drawn to the fog that pressed up against the glass without clouding it over. Nothing was said between the two. It had been two hours now, of this awkward silence, in this suite with no possessions worth distracting one's self with. Perhaps Bang should have brought a book. The operator was quick and efficient, with the sort of manic tone that sounded like someone who had caffeinated properly in preparations for a night shift at the telecommunications center. Within a couple of moments, the line connected to the famed 'Angelo Beloco', and a distorted voice sounded, some sort of device utilized to artificially crack what should be an otherwise stellar connection. "Bermuda Triangle, Classified Section. Who's this?" In the background, opera music vibrated out of a gramophone, warbling tragic tones in a language Hana didn't know.</s>
<\|description\|>Age \| Gender \| Height \| Weight Student Roster [anime appearance] Nation \| Major \| Specialization Their Story As little and as much as you need to explain the general bits and pieces that made who your character is, how they became recognized as one of the world's best and brightest, and why they've decided to fall in with shady organizations and become a spy. --- Organization: Only the name, please. Current Mission: I'll fill this out in a PM. Secret: I'll fill this out in a PM. Solomon Antedivula 17 y/o \| Male \| 5'10 \| 142 lbs The Nation of the Rose King, France \| Egoism \| Prehensile Blood Solomon was just a poor boy living in a first-generation immigrant's family on the countryside of France. As a child, he worked tirelessly on the sunny hills of the Rose King's domain. Sadly, he was bullied in school for not being into baguettes. One day while he was being bullied, a wandering Mongolian horseback archer came by and took a shine to the kid for a plot-based reason. They taught him the fundamentals of Egoism, exchanged telephone numbers with the lad, and over the course of many years, Solomon telecommuted his Polymath training, having the grit and determination to essentially self-study a wide field of works while also engaging in lots of self-reflection. And then, on his twelfth birthday, he decided that he could do it. With a scalpel, a mirror, and a towel, he carved his first set of Formula upon his back during the early hours of the morning, and was irrevocably changed. Word spread quick of the Self-Made Polymath of Ardennes, and Solomon vibed with that, even though he wasn't really sure what he should do with this outside of training more. But when that same Mongolian mounted archer called him again and offered him a job, Solomon knew. Debts were to be paid, and kindness could not be left unrewarded. Some years later, he secured his position in Bermuda, as an agent of Khan Academy, a "non-profit organization meant to make education available for all." --- Organization: Khan Academy Mission: Befriend the Student Council President, PC 1. Secret: Solomon is actually a double agent. His true allegiance lies with the Greatest Bond, a crime syndicate operating in Germany, who has gained his loyalty by teaching him of the wonders of steamed bread.</s> <\|message\|>Nazca Whitehall Nazca WhitehallClockwork Autumn Nazca couldn't help but to show a slight look of surprise as her visitor gave his response and met her gaze. Between her initial impression of the student in his official role, and her colored impression of visitors after the day's events, she had come to expect Maximillien's motives to be far more self-serving than the reality of why he was here. Pissed as she was, if his apology was genuine, she could recognize that he actually showed quite a lot integrity to admit that he was wrong. "I see," she responded simply, settling back into her hospital bed. "It's all water under the bridge now. If it is as you say, neither of us could have expected such an… extreme outcome. Apology accepted… but it is clear that something is still not right with this Jeanne business. It is strange for somebody to be attacked just for being around or looking into her business, if what I have been told is correct. It's a shame that I remember nothing of what happened." At his offer for improving her stay, she glanced at the door. "A nurse and a doctor with a better bedside manner would be pleasant." -- Later in the day, either as a result of her request, or by complete coincidence, she received her last visitor for the day as she nibbled on one of Maximilien's gifted baked goods. Upon hearing that it was a student of medicine, Nazca was quick to give her assent to the arrival of the oriental student. This one she coincidentally recognized, although she had yet to interact with her in any real capacity on the island before now. "Hana Yun, was it? No need to apologize. I can and will appreciate any additional medical expertise. Just being apologized to is a nice change of pace compared to rude students barging into my room demanding things." Yes, she was still salty about James and Bunga. She would be for a while. Her eyes tracked the bottle as Hana revealed the medicine, glancing at the exotic characters on its label as she placed it on her bedside table. Nazca listened intently at her instructions, not caring if the girl seemed to ramble. If it would help her heal from those awful burn wounds, then just being a bit hungrier was no issue. She had a whole basket of food now, anyway. "I see. Thank you for the medicine. I appreciate it," she gratefully replied. "As long as there aren't any other detrimental effects… then I have no real questions. If I do, then I'll be sure to call for you."</s> <\|message\|>Shou Zheng Shou Zheng --- The fading warmth of a setting sun prompted Shou to slowly rise from his seated position. Rather than hole up inside his room, he had returned to it only briefly to begin detailing out the latest addition to the tapestry on his back. Completing it would take some time and further inspiration, and he was in no rush despite the dangers he had encountered last night. Perfection could hardly be rushed, and he could not simply add haphazardly to himself. The ink had to settle, be drawn in and integrated, and connected with the changes he worked upon himself. The majority of his focus had been directed towards recovering from last night's ordeals anyways. Despite the immense amount of food he had consumed during lunch, he could feel his appetite stirring as he slowly started to walk. Minor aches and pains that might have gone unnoticed by non-Egoists were still apparent to Shou, but not concerning enough that he would be absent from tonight's excursion. By the time curfew actually rolled around, Shou was as prepared as he could have been. Well-fed and well-rested after a quick nap in the few hours he had after the sun had set, he rose again with a quick yawn and stretch. He had retrieved his weapon from where he had hid it this morning rather than carry it through the city like some sellsword. Its usefulness was debatable, but it was easy enough to carry around and something of a comfort to have in hand. As the bell tolled once more and heralded the mist's arrival, Shou started to move before it could blanket the entire island. Hopefully they'd actually get to meet up without any incidents; it would hardly bode well if one of them needed saving before they could even get started.</s>	<\|message\|>Age \| Gender \| Height \| Weight EE 87, May 6 \| Curfew Begins Few were there to dine now at Jeanne's place, but the dinner itself took advantage of the free meals hosted to all students within Bermuda and remained as eloquent as always. Nazca had, understandably, remained in the hospital, visiting hours closed and bandages having been changed out during her nightly wipedown. Franz, as if trying to make up for the sheer amount of time he had lost during the day, opted to remain at the ryokan-style apartments. Another one of the students there had fixed up the front doors by then, and he was free to catch up on his personal research and accommodations while chewing on some non-descript one-handed meal. Inti had been missing since yesterday, and no one had bothered to look for the Dynamicist from the Incan Empire. So dinner remained a gorgeous, yet frigid affair. Bang and Jeanne ate in a quiet that clearly indicated something was amiss, and Ryuuko had nothing truly to add beyond speaking of her own post-curfew plans, regardless of what the Vietnamese Egoist had argued about during the morning. In the end, there was nothing that could be done about the Prodigious Dragon and her reckless lust for revenge. It was a small comfort, at least, that she would be with Shou and Valeriya during this, even if their meeting place of choice was vague and ill-defined. Jeanne had no comment to make, and Bang had no task given. There was one more day and one more night before the Frenchwoman would stand trial, but the information that they held remained frustratingly lacking, tied more with obscure abnormalities within this artificial island rather than the matter of the pyromaniac and the man-bat. And when the bones were picked clean, when dessert was served and finished, Ryuuko left, leaving just two alone in the suite meant for one. Jeanne relocated to a seat by the patio, stared out the window, and with her index finger, covered as it was by black leather gloves, began to trace something upon the wooden table before her, content, as it were, to disregard Bang's presence. It would, perhaps, be a long night. Ten bells chimed with discordant sorrow, and the mist fell once more, shrouding the grave-like city in a silence most profound. … Sector 1 – The Inner Circle James's ears were, for the most part, still ringing. If one thought of clocktowers in Bermuda, there really was only one clocktower out there: the one that rang with such ferocity that one's ears hurt even if they were at the very perimeters of the island. Perhaps it was loud enough even to reach the surrounding oceans. And it was that loud, to be inside the clocktower while it rang was a recipe for suffering, even with the proper protections in place. As it stood, his head still ached and there was still a real good chance of permanent hearing loss, but for the time being, the British Polymath wasn't bleeding out from his ears, and now, he was alone at the top of the clocktower. This high above, he was finally able to see the clear night sky that watched over Bermuda every night, the crescent Moon escorted by an entourage of twinkling stars. Even though these were but conceptual illusions, brought about by divine decree rather than by the existence of tangible, celestial objects, there was still something romantic about it. Not, of course, that it mattered. Though he was unable to make out the shape of the ocean, James was able to clearly catch the moment in which the fog rolled in. It had come in with a speed akin to a tsunami, enveloping the city from all sides within the same span of time as the ten tolls of the clocktower's bells. From the ground, it may have appeared slower appeared as if it gradually formed from nothingness, but at his vantage point, it was a swift transformation, a very concrete one. And, as well, he noticed it. Though the fog encompassed all parts of Bermuda, it did not wash over the high walls that separated the Inner Circle from the rest of the academic island, leaving a pocket of clarity. Was this to be a 'safezone' then? The gloom of the clocktower, bereft of any light but a solitary lantern, offered no answers. Machinery whirred and clicked, well-oiled gears spinning with the regularity of a metronome, all of it without the touch of Formulization, and yet, at the top of the clocktower, he could still see nothing. At this point, standing upon the only spot of civilization unclaimed by a fog that hid everything, from saints and sinners to demons and mortals, James felt a creeping loneliness. A loneliness only heightened, when something irregular intruded upon the regularity of a clock's gears. Tip tap. Footsteps sounded, climbing the spiral stairsteps of the freestanding tower. Distant still, but inevitably closing in. Sector 4 – Waterfront Wharf During daytime, this part of Bermuda was one of the liveliest portions of the island. Featuring a small, eclectic display of shops and services, there was a distinctly tropical-festivity feel to the place, with smooth pavement gradually giving away to sand-dusted boardwalks the further east one travelled. Abya Yalan glassbowers would create wonderful sculptures, European clockworkers had entire orchestras held within musical boxes, and Far East chemists mixed up safe but explosively satisfying fireworks. For a place to rendezvous with friends, it was one of the best to be, and for a place where friends met often, the value of a portable, high-quality camera was immeasurable in capturing the fleeting moments of one's youth, the sparse leisure that a Polymath affords themselves. That, however, was during daytime. In the night, the night smothered by the salt-stained fog, silent except for the distant roar of the ocean, the mismatched silhouettes of the eclectic quarters made for a nightmarish display. Streetlamps burned brightly enough to cast everything in a yellowed hue, but even that was a sparse comfort. Franz was but a man. Lucretia had handed off her greatest weapon. And Bunga, their bodyguard, had the infamous distinction of being one of the weakest Egoists within Bermuda. Perhaps the concoctions that James had managed to whip up for her would help even out the odds a bit more, but on the other hand, the biology of each individual Egoist was vastly different. Perhaps the bottles she now had with her were worth less than a placebo. Still, they gathered, a few blocks away from the Atelier du Moor that they sought to stake out. The mist would be omnipresent, by nature, but for now, all that caught the attention of their trained eyes was the spark of Sukoro Jinga's Starsteel Formulizations, emerging upon the few inorganic components that made up this sector's buildings. Time will tell of the fruitfulness of their designs. Sector 8 – Blockscape Ultimately, no matter the strength and durability that the Tsardom's powered armors granted, the black-tinted plates offered not the natural, graceful mobility that any classically-trained Egoist would obtain, and it was decided that Shou and Ryuuko would locate Valeriya outside the testing facility that she would be breaking out of. The two Egoists had met a couple minutes before, Shou armed and Ryuuko ready, and their accelerated steps propelled their forms through the mist at such speeds that it was as if they were bounding ten meters for every step, wind and fog curling off the edges of their clothing as they shot past Brutalist monoliths, their stark shadows cast by fog-piercing fluorescent lights. And then, rounding the corner, they saw it, a silhouette of black. For a moment, Ryuuko's memories of the night triggered, memories of incomprehensible darkness, of impossible conjurations, of the obsidian cocoon that swallowed her companion whole. Had Valeriya already been taken? But no, this had more shape than that, more substance. Tubes and plating, weaponry and containers, The necessary equipment for connection to the Telesma, as well as back-up generators in the form of Steam Cores. And more than that, it was the style of it that made it doubtlessly something of the Occident. It was a style that pronounced terror, the terror of the Tsardom's Armored Infantry, of walking deadmen clad in scorched sarcophagi, wielding gatling coilguns to reap the wheat that was the Fatherland's foes. It was a philosophy that evolved from the study of the French Blast Knights, of metal that brought strength for the man to exercise their malice. It was domination. It was the boot that pressed against the traitor's throat. It was nothing that presented much threat at all to Ryuuko and Shou, though, and the trio all had more things to worry about than whether one of them would betray the others. Namely, how exactly were they to 'investigate' the abnormalities brought out by this fog? Certainly, they wouldn't be so foolish as to replicate the steps that Shou took to be attacked, yes?</s>
<\|description\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE 13 y/o \| Female \| 142cm (4'8") \| 35kg (77lbs) The Iron Sentinel Empire, Germany \| Technologism \| Ferromancy Lucretia Close-up Schwarzritter Close-up Born to House Konigsmahne, one of Germany's most prominent noble families, Lucretia was the youngest of five siblings. It was clear even from the first few years of her life that the white-haired girl was gifted, one of the very few individuals blessed with exceptional intellect, a savant, a genius among geniuses. Not only that, her family had the connections and resources to foster Lucy's talents as soon as possible. The young girl was taught with the best private tutors money could buy and combined with her extraordinary intelligence, it catapulted her development in the academics. Naturally, aside from general knowledge, her studies were focused on learning Technologism, the House's primary major in the art of Formulization. For Lucretia in particular, she had a particularly strong affinity with the element of ferrum, iron. Of course, all of these boons didn't come without a price. As it was common with savants, Lucretia had developmental disorders in the social aspect of things, she didn't get along well with her peers, not that she was a bully or anything, but other children were often put off by how quiet and insensitive she was. She preferred to wrap herself in her own bubble, intensely focusing on her current project, often days on end, stopping only to eat, sleep, and do hygiene stuff. She couldn't read the atmosphere and often came off as brutally honest, speaking pragmatically without heeding the emotions of others. Still, she wasn't an actively malicious person, but humans are social creatures and being able to relate with others is just as - if not more - important as academic prowess. Over the years, she got better... somewhat, through experience and trial and error, she had developed certain 'social protocols' in her head to compensate where she lacked. Regardless, she still preferred to deal with machines instead of people whenever possible. As mentioned before, the noble house she belonged to was quite prestigious, their ancestors were engineers and inventors, Technologist Polymaths, one of the forefront actors that brought about the Scientific Revolution of the Occident. The name "Konigsmahne" could be found in documents detailing the discovery of the steam core, peizogravitas, dreadnought designs, mechanized weapons (panzermensch), and other technological marvels. They too were one of the parties that supported the Enlightenment edict that led to the short-lived Age of Exploration... Then the Futile War came, and it marked the end of House Konigsmahne's golden age. In a loyalty-fueled attempt to support the Occident's war efforts, the house poured massive amount of resources to fight back against the 'savages'. How could they resist Enlightenment in favor of their primitive beliefs? Preposterous, unthinkable, Technologism is the way to the future, not some voodoo nonsense. Alas, in the end, nothing was gained as the war ended in a stalemate, but for the house, it might as well be a crushing defeat. While their finances had recovered over the decades after the war, the stain on their pride was still fresh to this day. Since then, the house never stopped searching for a way to finish what the Occident started, prove to the world that Technologism is the only true path to Enlightenment. To that end, they made alliances with parties that shared their views, one of them being Pax Occidenta, an enigmatic group that operated in the shadows, claiming to be the heralds that'd manifest the destiny of the Occident. The deal was to hand over one of the house's brightest to them, to be their scion, so that with their combined might, they'd bring about Manifest Destiny. This chosen scion was none other than Lucretia. Her first mission? Enroll into the Academic City of Bermuda and await further instructions... Lucretia's Specialization within the Formulization Major of Technologism. While she's able to manipulate the properties of most solid matter like all technologists, she's particularly adept at the element of iron and combined with her gifted intellect, this truly led to extraordinary craftsmanship, especially for someone so young. She had constructed numerous devices over the decade, but none surpassed her masterpiece, Schwarzritter. Schwarzritter takes the form of a curious T-shaped remote-controlled floating drone that's capable of a number of things. It can be used as a personal transport, portable storage, mobile cover, and weapons platform. Its strength and endurance are the equivalent of an iron golem, its central body had slots to store items in, and its two 'arms' contain an automatic assault turret each. It's installed with a Peizogravitas formula to enable buoyancy using electricity gathered from the global electric wireless structure a.k.a the Telesma Network. In the absence of access to said network, it possesses a backup Steam Core generator, enabling it to function at a reduced performance. When not in use, it can fold itself into an inert backpack-shaped object, surprisingly lightweight, making it convenient to carry around. Furthermore, although it's definitely not a living creature, Lucretia considers the drone to be her closest friend, she often talks and refers to it as if it has a mind of its own, like a young girl playing with her doll... except that it's made of metal, and many times her size, and capable of deadly force. --- Organization: Pax Occidenta</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --A Missing Patrician-- After taking care of some private business - and not the bathroom kind of private business - Lucretia made her way back to the Hall of the Greats, accompanied by the unquestioningly-loyal Schwarzritter. She entered the already-opened double doors as clockwork symphony graced her ears once more. Hmmm... now she'd just need to locate Mr. Gharbi and dance with him, yet something was rather off. Common sense would dictate that if he invited her for a dance, then he should be waiting near the entrance for convenience, but it seemed either he was late or she arrived earlier than expected. "Guten Abend, Frau Konigsmahn-..." One of the waitstaff, a German himself, was carrying a tray of sparkling wine in crystal glasses when he recognized the heiress, he tried to greet her only for Lucy to seemingly don't even recognize his existence and just simply walked off. "..." The waiter's polite smile faded into an awkward frown, so what people said regarding her being exceptionally aloof was true, well he just hoped she wasn't singling him out for some reason. Ahaha... yeah, that would be silly, she's just that kind of genius, a shame that the house was using her to further their ambitions though. But eh, what the fuck do I know? These nobles and their politics. In truth, Lucretia really did have nothing against that particular waiter, she was just deep in thought and didn't recognize someone was specifically addressing her, although her usual expression of an indifferent flat stare whether she was thinking or not didn't exactly help her image, Hmmm... well, his forearm was injured, perhaps he decided to rest a bit more before returning here. It made sense and she couldn't fault him for prioritizing his health over a dance, there were always more opportunities in the future anyway. With that deduction in mind, she decided to pick a vacant spot among the many ornate dining chairs. This one just so happened to be quite close to the dancing floor so she could get a good look at what's happening there. Oh, that's Herr Steiner... She saw his dance, a show of energetic twirls, leaps, and footwork. It's certainly rather unorthodox considering the 'high culture' style of the event. He finished off the performance like a ballerina, spinning thrice before ending with a flourish. That must've been difficult to perform. Lucy mused as she made barely-audible claps, the noise overwhelmingly drowned out by the music and cheering around the dance floor. Then Franz seemed to tag someone else to take the stage, a boy with fiery eyes and white hair like hers but further marked by red highlights, wearing a colorful set of Abya Yalan clothes, particularly South Abya Yala it seemed, that poncho was the most distinctive part of the outfit. Lucy didn't know him personally, but he and Franz seemed to be friends. He then proceeded to dance and while Lucy could somewhat recognize that Franz's dance - unorthodox it might be - was distinctly Occidental, especially with the ballerina spin, but this white-haired boy... moved in such a foreign way that Lucy couldn't have any other deductions except that it was an Abya Yalan style. It was enjoyable, although yes, it didn't exactly fit with the music, one didn't need to be an expert dancer to see that. The Abya Yalan boy soon finished his performance and exited the stage, being approached by Herr Steiner again. ...oh. Right, since every student was here right now and she's not doing anything in particular... this might be a good chance to search for this "Egoist Defector" that Franz mentioned, yes, she should do that. Although... with so many students around - even if she narrowed them to just the Egoists - and without further information on this defector's physical attributes, she would be hard-pressed to identify them. It will be a pointless endeavor... I should wait for a reply instead. Yes, indeed, they should be able to provide her with further information. For now, well, she supposed it was time to indulge herself a little. Getting up, Lucy proceeded to procure herself a selection of German sausages and hams: bratwurst, frankfurter, wiener würstchen, and others, then finally garnished with a serving of potato salad and sauerkraut. A small portion of each as she had never been someone who ate much. Her order done, the silver-haired girl went back to her previous chair, sat down, and began consuming her meal in peace.</s> <\|message\|>Shou Zheng --- Shou Zheng --- Alas, the young German's peace wasn't to last for long. The commotion with the lights may have caused a momentary distraction, one that was further lengthened by his conversation with Jeanne, but in the end Shou did return to the laid out feast for another plate of food. He sampled his way from table to table, and the dishes he found to his liking were piled upon the plate. There was no point in returning to an empty table across the hall, and the dance floor seemed like it had finally attracted some attention. He paused when he saw that it was Inti at the center of attention though. It wasn't too odd given how excitable and outgoing the boy had been during their conversation, and despite the clash between his style and the Occidental orchestra, it didn't seem to dampen his enthusiasm much. It was good to see that the other boy was enjoying himself instead of beating himself up over a simple accident at the least. His hands were a bit too full to join the others out on the dance floor at the moment though, and he shuddered a bit as the orchestra continued with its next performance. He preferred his dances a bit more energetic and frantic than this slow-paced swaying. Regardless of his preferences though, they weren't going to matter until he finished eating his full. There were plenty of empty tables by the dance floor as students migrated from one to the other, but he made his way towards a table occupied by one instead. It was a shame that her construct had already been folded back into its compact form though. Testing its stability as a perch would have been fun, if incredibly rude and off putting to the heiress. Then again, given how she apparently had to be protected by another student rather than her own creation earlier? She could have used a few more surprises to help refine her reactions a bit. Like Jeanne had said, the machine currently mattered less than the man wielding it. "Frau Konigsmahne," he called out while still a few feet away from her table. "May I join you for dinner?"</s>	<\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --Ocean Man Cometh-- When within the company of 'less-gifted' teens, Lucretia's unusual behaviour would be as obvious as a floating iron golem charging through a porcelain shop. A thirteen-year-old capable of focusing on a single task to such a degree that one wouldn't be at fault to wonder whether she was truly human or something else, perhaps the Konigsmahne managed to engineer one of those fabled "automatons", a novel concept that couldn't yet be realized even by the best technologists of the Occident... or was it? Perhaps behind the veneer of a young silver-haired teenager lied an advanced set of logic engines capable of self-thought and self-learning, although not perfect, hence explaining the girl's personality. An automaton, really? A polymath automaton at that? Truly a ludicrous conspiracy theory, one that was preposterous enough to gain the ire of Emmerich von Konigsmahne, Lucretia's father and House patriarch, and any German could tell you that being on the rich and powerful noble's bad side wasn't... ideal to say the least. An educated fellow could simply deduce that geniuses often had their own quirks, no? Especially since most - if not all - geniuses gathered here didn't quite have the wisdom to compensate for said quirks with life experience. Lucy was unusual, sure, but so was the student body here, after all what were they if not for the brightest youths on Earth? Regardless, the fact remained that the German Polymath had the social charisma of a brick wall, a fact that no doubt one Shou Zheng would experience firsthand. When the dark-with-red-tint-haired boy's voice reached her ears, Lucy stopped eating, put her fork and knife down, turned her gaze toward him, and blinked once in that specific order. "..." She didn't say anything to him at first, and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out that she was studying him, perhaps digging her memories to associate his likeness to someone she already knew, in the end, it seemed she failed, which meant he was a stranger, a one-sided sentiment considering he already knew her looks and name. A few seconds later, she finally replied, "For what purpose?" She asked bluntly, her flat tone devoid of even the slightest bit of sarcasm or hostility, an absurdly far cry from Mademoiselle Bordeaux. "..." The question was followed by another few seconds of awkward silence before Lucy continued her attempt at 'courtesy', "Perhaps you have business with me, then of course. but first, an introduction is in order, I'm Lucretia von Konigsmahne, and who might you be, sir?"</s>
<\|description\|>Franz Steiner 16 \| Male \| 6'1" \| 75kg Austria \| Mesmerology \| In Development Franz grew up in poverty in a farming town outside Vienna. Not much is to say about it. Everyday was a struggle to keep the essentials and Franz was too young to help out his parents in the labour. However, he did display astounding potential in his academics. From a young age, most subjects he tackled were a breeze. While it was generally chalked up to being a sizeable fish in an incredibly small pond, he eventually garnered the attention from the main city. Vienna is known as a world capital for the arts. Making massive contributions to art, music, and theatre. A pianist from a Vienna academy is one that is unmatched in their skill and grace. When Franz got recruited to study in a Vienna academy, he had thought he would be going to study the violin. But instead he was taken to the Vienna Young Polymath Academy. While the study of Mesmerology is very underdeveloped, the Vienna Young Polymath Academy has made far greater strides than the rest of the world. They view the study of Mesmerology to be more of an art than a science. When it came to the study of it, Franz was almost unmatched. Franz was outclassed in most ways by a noble's son, who had been studying from a far younger age. When it was announced that only one Mesmerologist from the academy would be able to attend the Academic City of Bermuda, Franz poisoned the noble's son. While there was suspicion that Franz had been the poisoner, nothing could be proven. The noble tried taken action against Franz but the academy defended him. As if they valued his ability to subtly harm someone. "There seems to be a notion that people from poverty don't take advantage of their wealthy position. On the contrary, I intend to take every advantage I can." Franz is a born Dyanamicist, however he did not specialize this ability to instead pursue Mesmerology. Franz's main ability is memory manipulation. This is harshly limited by the lack of available literature and the complexity of the subject. Despite Franz being an unmatched academic, he finds himself continuously grasping at straws for the power of this field. He hopes to find more at the Academic city. Franz's ability seems to directly relate to how much understanding he has over the subject's mind. He can affect his own mind with considerable success and, because of their reduced complexity, has shown the ability to affect insect minds. However, Franz seeks to fully understand another person so he may test on them. Above all, Franz seeks to finally crack Mesmerology and attain the power and pretige that comes along with it. In terms of academic achievements, he is one of the top literature and music students in Austria. While he is above average in other subjects like mathematics and science, it is nothing noteworthy. In terms of combat, he is untrained entirely. He had a few rudimentary fencing lessons but he saw no reason in continuing them. Organisation: Vienna Young Polymath Academy A government program to develop espionage agents using Mesmerology.</s> <\|message\|>Age \| Gender \| Height \| Weight With Ryuuko volunteering, it appeared as if this examination would soon be over. Maximilien nodded once, recognizing at a glance the prodigious Egoist who so disdained her own nation, the dragon-girl who had joined Jeanne in her pyromania in the minutes before curfew began. A gazebo had been reduced to cinders, after all. That account was reported only with circumstantial evidence and eyewitness reports, however, and hadn't been worth bringing up. If accomplices wished to watch each other's backs though, the wig-wearing youth had no qualms with letting them both burn. Unfortunately, others seemed more eager to jump into the flames. Franz Steiner, the Universal Genius, revealed his common origins with every word he spoke. Even as the self-proclaimed Mesmerologist approached with increasingly incendiary language, Maximilien's expression did not change. His eyes were mirrors, reflecting a learned apathy towards the outcries of buffoons. Le Bang Kieu, Vietnam's little prince, was at least somewhat reasonable, despite what Abya Yalan theories of justice had infected his mind. The difference of understandings between nations and cultures remained though, of the difference between the justice served upon Technologists and Egoists, of the insignificant value of an impartial jury when it came to any case that involved a Polymath renowned enough to make it to Bermuda. There was a flash of pity, but no response still. Maximilien could see that the boldness of two empowered further speech from more. He had not expected this child, nameless as they were, to posit such a question though. The world was wide, it appeared. Wide enough that even after fifty years, there were still those who did not understand the value that an Egoist presented in such scenarios. Maximilien paused briefly, mind moving at lightning speed to determine how genuine of a question it was, before speaking. "For us who remain human, an Egoist will always be our physical superior. Subsequently, they are the most capable when it comes to reacting, surviving, and suppressing any other Major's attempt at escape." The last one to speak, to volunteer, was unremarkable in both reputation and demeanor. Maximilien fancied Nazca with a nod of acknowledgement, before placing his index finger against the platform upon which Jeanne was marooned. Tracing a pathway through the starscape of the Divine Calculus, he turned stone to sand, the construction sinking lower and lower until the bound woman was on the ground once more. "You have many friends, Du Bordeaux," he spoke quietly, placing all her gear but the flame-spewing claymore into her leather-encased hands. "Give thanks, for the mercy they've shown." Perhaps she too had words to exchange with the Head of the Committee of Public Safety, but Maximilien's gaze was no longer upon her. "It goes without saying that if another incident involving Jeanne occurs during these next three days, all of you who have volunteered will be held jointly responsible. Otherwise, may God grant insight where men are wont to hide. We shall adjourn again upon the afternoon of the 8th." Sensing that nothing else was to happen, the crowd that had gathered dispersed, a few excited at all the extra drama that was tossed in by unexpectedly-involved individual, while others were laughing at the ignorance of outsiders and scoundrels. A cold-blooded murderer defending an habitual arsonist, how novel! If only they hadn't dragged poor Bang with down with them…that was the real pity there. Maximilien himself turned to leave too, measured gait leading him to a tower in the western corner of Bermuda's inner circle. Now, only those who truly cared about Jeanne remained before the ashes of her work. --- Warm waters, crystal-clear and teeming with small fish, enveloped Shou as he dove into ocean that surrounded the artificial island. It was as comforting as any tropical island could be, the sandy beach dissolving into colorful coral. Even the most dangerous of fish were vibrantly colored, a far cry from the deep ocean monstrosities that he was accustomed to encountering in his early years as a sailor. If it was just for the purpose of recreation, this would be a wonderful place for a casual dip into the ocean. But he was not here for that. Five hundred meters off the coast of Bermuda, the gradual deepening of the sea floor underneath dropped off into the true ocean, like encountering a continental shelf. At the same time, Shou could feel a faint electric buzz teasing at his nerves, not painful in any manner, but simply…annoying. Enough so that it could dissuade larger aquatic predators, perhaps. The same sort of technology used by high-end fishing vessels to corral profitable species into the waiting nets of others. It must be what enables such a vibrant collection of species near Bermuda's beaches. If he dug deep enough into the sand, perhaps he would find Steam Core-powered water-quality modulation devices too. There was no sand here though. There was only the deep dark, the waters blackened by the lack of light. So he dove. So he saw. Five hundred meters away from the island of Bermuda proper, with hardly any light at all, it was possible only to make out the barest outline of the mechanical underbelly of the Academic City of Bermuda. How much money had it cost, to create what was essentially an airship the size of a city, equip with massive Steam Cores to perpetually power the Pleizogravitas constructions that kept the entire city buoyant? If Shou had the ability to perceive the Divine Calculus as clearly as his peers, perhaps he too would have become blind. But then, a thought crossed his mind. What could happen if a single Starsteel Sword was introduced here? The island wouldn't even take a minute to sink. … More details had to be determined, and with a flaring of his gills, a tightening of his lungs, the Egoist released a burst of sound. At the depths he could dive, echolocation was the preferred sense, the guiding post to sculpt terrain and detect prey. But the echoes did not reach. Within the waters beneath the great artificial city, his voice did not even vibrate against the border. And thus, another realization, one that explained the lack of any anchor to fix this buoyant island in place. In a 500 meter radius of Bermuda's coast, the ocean water was dead.</s> <\|message\|>Shou Zheng Shou Zheng --- Shou may have had a purpose for diving into the surrounding waters, but he could still appreciate the lively and colorful ecosystem established on the island's shores. He would have expected them to be a bit more barren given Bermuda's recent construction, but there was no telling how long the island had been around while the Academy was built up on it. The tingle made Shou grimace, even as he pushed through the sensation and dove straight down. There was enough light for him to see the end of the cliff face that marked the end of the island. Flipping himself upright as he passed it and squinted into the darkness, he could just barely make out the various constructions built into the island's underside. Even if it was currently too unrefined to use, the sheer amount of electricity being circulated to keep the island afloat made the pathways light up in ways that almost hurt his head. Of course, the island being reliant on that much Formulae was quite the vulnerability, and he couldn't imagine there wouldn't have been some protections built in against sabotage. It would be more expensive to have each Steam Core function independently, but clearly the countries responsible weren't too concerned about expense. If he were a Technologist as well he might have been able to discern any countermeasures to deal with saboteurs, but the entire underbelly of the island was just a thrumming beacon of electricity to Shou. Curious, but he hadn't left his dormitory first thing in the morning to oogle at the sheer cost and scale of Bermuda's construction. As he lingered there by the edge of the island, he cut loose with his echolocation to map out his surroundings. Almost instantly he recoiled a bit from the disappearance of half his created waves. It wasn't as bad as if they had been reflected to him instantly, but their absorption was a bit more unsettling. It was a good thing there was still a bit of light available to him, otherwise it would have been like finding himself right before an abyss! He sent out more waves as he swam downwards, carefully mapping out the exact range of Bermuda's influence on the ocean. Given how the zone began right under the island, he doubted it was a natural phenomenom and likely the work of some piece of equipment. Aside from somehow rendering the water completely still though, he had no idea about its other effects. Would it render him immobile if he tried to swim into it? Spinning his sword around by the strap looped around his wrist, the blade seemed to cut through the water without any resistance as he grabbed onto the handle. He had descended to the point that there was no more sunlight, and his clicks had yet to bounce back to him either. Nothing but ocean water for at least a couple hundred meters around him, and this weird still zone right in front. With a deep breath he swung the sword lazily into the zone and waited for something to happen.</s>	<\|message\|>Franz Steiner No reaction, the boy gave Franz no reaction. Not just being silent, but as if Robespierre was ignoring him. Surely there would be something, Franz thought. He wasn't even particularly defending Jeanne, instead, more commencing a direct attack on Robespierre's character. And still nothing. Although Franz could hide his emotions well, a sense of frustration had taken hold. Robespierre had made an enemy today. Looking around the volunteers, Franz surmised that he may not be the only one. As Robespierre finished his speech, Franz feigned a smile and waved him off from the sandy remains of the stage. "Auf wiedersehen, Herr Robespierre!" Robespierre finished his exit and Franz looked toward the crowd of volunteers. Ryuuko was an obvious volunteer and he wasn't particularly surprised to see her there. Bang was a well-known celebrity and Franz was happy to have his help. Having him so firmly on the same side helped Franz overlook his inability to say 'Steiner'. Franz smiled seeing Inti at the front and volunteering. Frankly, he didn't expect to see the abya yalan boy so soon after the party. Speaking of abya yalan, the final volunteer was Nazca Whitehall. She was an easily recognizable figure, few in the Occident wouldn't have heard of her. A runaway princess adopted into a rich noble's estate is the closest thing to a modern fairy tale you could get. Although the reputation of her Polymath skill had yet to reach Franz's ears. Bang looked in awful health, that was obvious enough. Franz wondered if he would be a suitable guard for someone as dangerous as Jeanne. Still, it was Bang's voice that backed him up when he took the stage. "I am grateful for your help. I am unsure his highness would have retreated if not for your… more levelled approach. I assume I am talking to the famous Le Bang Kieu. My name is Steiner, Franz Steiner." The 'Steiner' was slightly louder and spoken with crystal clear in its pronunciation. Franz reached out for a handshake. That concluded, Franz turned to the still bound Jeanne. He made eye contact before drifting his view to the ashes of the library behind and then back to her. "You seem to be in quite the predicament, Miss Bordeaux. I will not insult your intelligence by claiming my actions are entirely selfless and noble. You know better. However, I am willing to help prove your innocence and even defend you at the trial if need be. The decision to accept is entirely up to you, of course. But other applicants seem to be sparse at best." </s>
<\|description\|>Franz Steiner 16 \| Male \| 6'1" \| 75kg Austria \| Mesmerology \| In Development Franz grew up in poverty in a farming town outside Vienna. Not much is to say about it. Everyday was a struggle to keep the essentials and Franz was too young to help out his parents in the labour. However, he did display astounding potential in his academics. From a young age, most subjects he tackled were a breeze. While it was generally chalked up to being a sizeable fish in an incredibly small pond, he eventually garnered the attention from the main city. Vienna is known as a world capital for the arts. Making massive contributions to art, music, and theatre. A pianist from a Vienna academy is one that is unmatched in their skill and grace. When Franz got recruited to study in a Vienna academy, he had thought he would be going to study the violin. But instead he was taken to the Vienna Young Polymath Academy. While the study of Mesmerology is very underdeveloped, the Vienna Young Polymath Academy has made far greater strides than the rest of the world. They view the study of Mesmerology to be more of an art than a science. When it came to the study of it, Franz was almost unmatched. Franz was outclassed in most ways by a noble's son, who had been studying from a far younger age. When it was announced that only one Mesmerologist from the academy would be able to attend the Academic City of Bermuda, Franz poisoned the noble's son. While there was suspicion that Franz had been the poisoner, nothing could be proven. The noble tried taken action against Franz but the academy defended him. As if they valued his ability to subtly harm someone. "There seems to be a notion that people from poverty don't take advantage of their wealthy position. On the contrary, I intend to take every advantage I can." Franz is a born Dyanamicist, however he did not specialize this ability to instead pursue Mesmerology. Franz's main ability is memory manipulation. This is harshly limited by the lack of available literature and the complexity of the subject. Despite Franz being an unmatched academic, he finds himself continuously grasping at straws for the power of this field. He hopes to find more at the Academic city. Franz's ability seems to directly relate to how much understanding he has over the subject's mind. He can affect his own mind with considerable success and, because of their reduced complexity, has shown the ability to affect insect minds. However, Franz seeks to fully understand another person so he may test on them. Above all, Franz seeks to finally crack Mesmerology and attain the power and pretige that comes along with it. In terms of academic achievements, he is one of the top literature and music students in Austria. While he is above average in other subjects like mathematics and science, it is nothing noteworthy. In terms of combat, he is untrained entirely. He had a few rudimentary fencing lessons but he saw no reason in continuing them. Organisation: Vienna Young Polymath Academy A government program to develop espionage agents using Mesmerology.</s> <\|message\|>Age \| Gender \| Height \| Weight @Yankee@Click This@Medili "I couldn't see the gunman, and the gunman missed all six shots," Jeanne spoke, turning her face towards Bang. "They were low on my list of priorities." As the rest of the table fell into discussion, rumination, and interrogation, the Frenchwoman settled back into her seat once more, letting all the white noise wash over her. By nature, a devilbat Egoist of Occidental origins should have been easy to spot during their month-long flight across the known world, and yet, no one recalled any such individual. Being attacked while chasing another appeared to indicate collusion, but most of the bullets didn't even land anywhere near her. And if the Egoist were an opportunist taking advantage of the scenario that Jeanne had established, what were they hoping to achieve prior to this? It was when Nazca spoke up that the blonde Technologist deigned to speak up again. "Playing at spywork, Miss Whitehall?" Nothing but a light jab. Nothing but a little prodding from the French to the British. Jeanne moved on just as effortlessly, interlacing her fingers and setting them on the table. "And as for your question, Bang, it's simple." Her fingers tightened, clasping together firmly. "Something stalked me within the mists, and when I attacked, something fled in great bounding leaps. Naturally, I pursued." But any Polymath would know that correlation did not imply causation. The case certainly had its share of oddities, of peculiarities. "For the gunman, it's a simple task to show you where the shooting occurred." Perhaps, of all present, only Nazca would understand what Jeanne was doing as she rolled the right sleeve of her shirt back to reveal a flexible, blackened metal chasis beneath, studded with nodes and circuitry. "Formation Pyre," she spoke in French, then directed her gaze outside the window. Against the picturesque sky, it was easy to see. The trail of black smoke, snaking up to the false heavens. Jeanne settled back down, her posture perfect and her facade unperturbed. "One hundred and twenty two meters southwest of that point." @Kumbaris There was no response to either Lucretia or Bunga. Sukoro continued to draw, his pencil gliding smoothly over the canvas, rendering the drawing three-dimensional despite the lack of shading. It was a study, a study of the deathly plant. How its petals peeled away to reveal its bud, how its fibers intertwined to form its body, how the spots and bumps upon it created the sense of a slice of pepperoni or salami. Sweat continued to drip, the Japanese Technologist's robes clinging to his body, his shoulder moving vigorously while his arm was as stiff as the pencil in his hand. And after what seemed to be an eternity, he stopped, placing his pencil onto his thigh and letting out a long hiss through his teeth, his entire body seeming to sink down into itself. Expertly rendered, and yet wholly without expression, his study of the plant was as if through the lens of an impartial creator, neither proclaiming the work good nor bad. His eyes, half-closed turned to the two ladies who had been forced to wait, before his head naturally tilted downwards in an expression of apology. "Pardon me," the young man spoke, his voice scratchy from a combination of thirst and silence, "I was not ignoring you, but rather simply had other matters to handle first. It is a pleasure, Miss Konigsmahne, Miss Kurniawan." He stopped speaking, eyes looking at nothing in particular while he recalled their questions, before continuing. "And yes, I would be happy to provide you with a chest inscribed with my Starsteel Formulization, Miss Konigsmahne. In exchange, could you lend me your Black Knight for a few days, so I may study it?" It was fair, after all. One work for another. Perfectly acceptable... "And yet another apology, Miss Kurniawan, but considering my own circumstances, I've been endeavouring to avoid, rather than socialize with, others. In regards to that particular part of the world, hrm…" He brought one leg up, crossing it over his knee, and leaned his elbow against it while propping his head up with his palm. "…maybe you could ask Mr. Kieu? I heard he was quite the social sort, compared to myself. Honestly, I wouldn't even be able to name a Nusantaran Polymath off the top-of-my-head, so even if I saw them, I wouldn't know them." It made sense again, of course. Japan was notoriously insular as a nation. "I'm doing lovely today, thank you! And yes, such a troubling matter to hear of in the morning. I haven't had the chance to read up on it myself, but, between me and you, I think it's simply wrong for Mr. Robespierre to defend an arsonist and all. I get that's what he's known for but, like, that's basically a shut-and-closed case, isn't it?" The lady shook her head. "Makes me troubled, really. Like, I get that you're all smart and good kids, and the governments that sent you definitely trust you to behave yourselves, but all it takes is one bad Technologist to do something crazy, y'know?" She blinked, and then her face flushed, her hand moving up to cover her mouth. "Oh, I'm so sorry for rambling on like that. It's honestly a terrible habit of mine, but, well, I guess that's to say that I'll do whatever's in my power to help you out with the prosecution!" …there definitely seemed to be a misunderstanding here. Whether Franz chose to correct or maintain this misunderstanding though, was a decision that he'd have to make later. "That being said, I could certainly hotprint Bermuda's currently-enrolled students for you though. It won't have anything that isn't publicly accessible information though, due to privacy concerns, but there'll be photos without a doubt. Just, you know, nothing specific like their addresses or anything else their countries would like to keep private." A slightly awkward smile formed over her expression and she looked off to the side. "…and not all students postured themselves correctly during the photography sessions either, so some of them might look a bit off…" The Swedish lady recovered from that easily enough though, and directed a bright smile towards Franz. "I could have it delivered through the Postal Service to your residence by this evening though. Or is there another location you'd like to receive this, Mr. Steiner?"</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --An Agreement Made-- @ERode "...?" Lucretia merely tilted her head slightly at Bunga's comment about her conduct, what was unproductive about it? In fact, she phrased her question with the express goal of being efficiently productive, no beating around the bush with unnecessary small talks. In relation to that, why would an efficient talk anger Sukoro? He's a fellow Technologist Polymath, and Technologists often adopted engineering philosophies into their craft. If Bunga defined "politely" as wasting time by beating around the bush first, then the Egoist clearly misunderstood the whole thing. However, she was both foreign and non-Technologist so Lucy chalked it up to her being unfamiliar, perhaps things were done differently in her homeland, that was certainly a distinct possibility. Since Sukoro was apparently wholly focused on his work - something Lucretia could genuinely relate to - the white-haired girl took a step back first, not really caring about Bunga's inaccurate assessment of her motivations and behavior. Although, the fox-eared Egoist sure had an incredibly flowery way of speaking, and Lucy found it uncomfortably frustrating. Strangely however, she wasn't this excessively aureate back in the cafe, maybe because both her and Sukoro are Orientals? Something to muse about. Perhaps much to Bunga's disbelief, Lucretia was content to wait for Sukoro to finish his painting, a far cry from her seemingly impatient attitude just now. The petite Polymath sat back down at Schwarzritter's left arm as she watched Sukoro's pencil strokes. Fascinating, he managed to create a monochromatic yet photorealistic sketch of the Rafflesia, a meticulous perfectionism that Lucy knew all too well. It seemed they were more alike than she thought. His sweat-ridden body, parched throat, and strained voice reminded Lucy of an event not too long ago, just this early morning in fact. A part of her was amused that their experience was mutual, but there was one huge difference, he succeeded in his endeavors; no stray birds defecated on his canvas moments before completion. Now that he was done though, she listened to what he had to say. Hmmmm... a curious, yet expected trade offer. Schwarzritter and Starsteel were each Polymath's magnum opus after all. "Knowledge and progress should never be hindered by irrational paranoia, therefore I consider this an equivalent exchange and will accept your offer. However, I must make sure that the chest will have an installed function to repair the Starsteel Formulization should I break it, for both of our conveniences obviously so I won't have to bring the chest back to you each time I solve the puzzle." Lucy nodded, then if Sukoro confirmed that said chest would be inscribed by such function, she'd continue, "In exchange, you may take Schwarzritter under your care. I will register your voice so you may command him as I can."</s>	<\|message\|>Franz Steiner How beneficial that the lady at the desk assumed Franz was the prosecution. Maintaining that assumption could help him gather more needed details. However, it was imperative not to explicitly state he was the prosection. Telling a blatant lie was sure to backfire and harm him in the long run. "It is an unenviable position to be sure, defending someone whom common sense would dictate is guilty. To do such a thing requires great respect for the law. Even if every piece of information is screaming at guilt, you have to stand and give them a fair shot like everyone else. Like fighting a losing battle for someone you don't believe in. It's not for the sake of who you defend, but for the sake of the battle itself." Realising that his eyes were trailing away in his self-aggrandising speech, Franz turned his sight back to eye contact. "I find such a thing to be strangely respectable. But here I am rambling myself as well." Franz reciprocated a smile back. "Nevertheless, I appreciate all your help. I imagine I will need it if I am to oppose Robespierre in an effective manner. Evening delivery to my dorm room would be excellent, having two or three copies of the records would be ideal. Thank you for your work." Franz began leaving the desk but turned back for a final statement. "Who knows, maybe after all this is done the craziness will subside for a while. I'll be sure to send you a bottle of wine or something celebratory in thanks should I be successful at the trial." How troublesome that people are so against the idea of defending Jeanne. It is to be expected given her reputation. But Franz will need to put in excessive work to win this trial once word got out that he was the defendant. He didn't exactly need to win this case. But his ego would not allow him to lose either. He had his work cut out for him and it, unfortunately, would harm his time to study. High risk, high reward. Something deep in Franz' psyche liked that idea. --- Once out of the building, Franz pulled out the clockwork sparrow. He spent little time admiring the intricacies of it because he wouldn't be able to grasp the finer details without considerable time. From the looks of it though, it didn't look as though Franz would be able to follow it effectively. So instead he settled on writing a letter to send back to Nazca and the group. Dear Nazca, I have acquired access to a registry of students in Bermuda, and I am expecting it to be delivered this evening. This should prove valuable in the investigation but will require time to read through. Inform the group that I wish to continue my studies for the rest of the day, but will rejoin you all once the documents have come in. Regards, Franz With some awkward fiddling, Franz managed to get the small message onto the bird and send it into flight. Presumably, it would return to Nazca. Franz began the walk back to the dorms. Hopefully, his pets were not too off-put by the smells of this morning, or the cleaning crew that, hopefully, came in and cleaned the place. He had a long day of study and note-taking ahead of him, a dirty room would disturb that. </s>
<\|description\|>Franz Steiner 16 \| Male \| 6'1" \| 75kg Austria \| Mesmerology \| In Development Franz grew up in poverty in a farming town outside Vienna. Not much is to say about it. Everyday was a struggle to keep the essentials and Franz was too young to help out his parents in the labour. However, he did display astounding potential in his academics. From a young age, most subjects he tackled were a breeze. While it was generally chalked up to being a sizeable fish in an incredibly small pond, he eventually garnered the attention from the main city. Vienna is known as a world capital for the arts. Making massive contributions to art, music, and theatre. A pianist from a Vienna academy is one that is unmatched in their skill and grace. When Franz got recruited to study in a Vienna academy, he had thought he would be going to study the violin. But instead he was taken to the Vienna Young Polymath Academy. While the study of Mesmerology is very underdeveloped, the Vienna Young Polymath Academy has made far greater strides than the rest of the world. They view the study of Mesmerology to be more of an art than a science. When it came to the study of it, Franz was almost unmatched. Franz was outclassed in most ways by a noble's son, who had been studying from a far younger age. When it was announced that only one Mesmerologist from the academy would be able to attend the Academic City of Bermuda, Franz poisoned the noble's son. While there was suspicion that Franz had been the poisoner, nothing could be proven. The noble tried taken action against Franz but the academy defended him. As if they valued his ability to subtly harm someone. "There seems to be a notion that people from poverty don't take advantage of their wealthy position. On the contrary, I intend to take every advantage I can." Franz is a born Dyanamicist, however he did not specialize this ability to instead pursue Mesmerology. Franz's main ability is memory manipulation. This is harshly limited by the lack of available literature and the complexity of the subject. Despite Franz being an unmatched academic, he finds himself continuously grasping at straws for the power of this field. He hopes to find more at the Academic city. Franz's ability seems to directly relate to how much understanding he has over the subject's mind. He can affect his own mind with considerable success and, because of their reduced complexity, has shown the ability to affect insect minds. However, Franz seeks to fully understand another person so he may test on them. Above all, Franz seeks to finally crack Mesmerology and attain the power and pretige that comes along with it. In terms of academic achievements, he is one of the top literature and music students in Austria. While he is above average in other subjects like mathematics and science, it is nothing noteworthy. In terms of combat, he is untrained entirely. He had a few rudimentary fencing lessons but he saw no reason in continuing them. Organisation: Vienna Young Polymath Academy A government program to develop espionage agents using Mesmerology.</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --The Next Step...-- @ERode Lucretia put a hand against her chin as she pondered Sukoro's clarification to her statement; an interesting misunderstanding indeed, if Starsteel didn't just disappear, then why did it do exactly that early morning today? Someone or something must've deactivated them at the source, cut off the electricity powering the Formulization, the tolling bell that happened in tandem was likely correlated. However, it was unsurprising that the Godhand's intention with Starsteel was to delay instead of truly locking something away, which aligned with Lucy's conclusion that to truly secure something, both formulization and mundane measures must be employed simultaneously; Starsteel by itself was designed to stall Technologists, it would accomplish little against an Egoist's brute strength. "I see, induce a blackout of its power and the pattern will reset, understood," The petite polymath nodded, "Agreed, and I will send Schwarzritter your way by tomorrow at the latest." Although she tilted her head at the last bit, "What competition?" the question was spoken with every bit of genuine innocence the German girl could display, but her green eyes lit up merely a second later, A contest to see who can be most swift at navigating the Starsteel labyrinth perhaps? Intriguing... She'd definitely take a look at this competition for sure; she would be sullying the Konigsmahne name if she let herself be humbled by an Oriental at their own game. Apex Technologist prowess rightfully belongs to the Occident after all, particularly Germany. With her business done, she turned away from Sukoro, walking together with the Nusantaran Egoist back where they came from, "Because it's a statement, a challenge, one that I must answer as a Konigsmahne Polymath," Lucretia answered, her voice calm as usual but there was an inkling of pride underneath, "Our House never settle for the average, we strive toward excellence in the pursuit of perfection, a 'tough nut' is no deterrence for us." Bunga could swear that Lucy puffed out her chest with that boast there, what little was there anyway. Perhaps it should've been obvious, but both of them were complete strangers mere hours ago so it'd be justified for Bunga to not know that Lucretia wasn't the type to pursue something that she had no interest, nor obligation to. The answer to her offer was all but written on the wall, "Your happiness is unnecessary because I won't be tagging along with you, Miss Kurniawan." Lucy answered bluntly, yet with that same genuine honesty that she showed to Sukoro, there was no personal feelings attached, "I have other matters to attend, including but not limited to tuning Schwarzritter for Mr. Sukoro. Danke for assisting me in my search." With that she went on her separate ways, sitting on Schwarzritter's arm as the two left the Elysium Conservatory. .......... ..... ... A little later, Lucretia found herself standing sitting before the smoldering ruins of the library. So this is why... This Jeanne du Bordeaux... truly a black sheep of the Occident, a sociopath who was somehow blessed with great intellect, something she clearly didn't deserve. So much knowledge, just... gone, and all for what? Was she making a statement against authority and institutions? Or was it something as shallow as satisfying her pyromania? Some individuals in this world truly boggled her mind, it's as if there was no rhyme or reason to their actions, and Lucy believed that it was literally that for a few, genuinely insane people. Was Jeanne one of them? If only she could've been there to prevent this. With a regretful sigh, Lucretia asked around for a bit, particularly the Bermuda staff stationed around the scene of the arson... It didn't take long for her to receive her next destination, to meet Maximilien Francois Marie Isidore de Robespierre, Polymath, Enforcer, and Head of the Committee of Public Safety. His office should be in the City Administrative Center building, westward from here. Thus, her loyal steel companion carried its mistress there, only putting her down once they have reached in front of the main entrance before furling into its compact form upon her command. Said mistress then entered the multi-story Brutalist-style structure before lining up to meet with the very same Swedish receptionist that a certain Universal Genius charmed a few hours ago. "Guten Tag," Lucy greeted her native tongue before quickly switching to Latin, "I am Lucretia von Konigsmahne, I wish to arrange a meeting with Herr Robespierre regarding the matter of the library's destruction please. It is of utmost importance."</s> <\|message\|>Higashiakemi Ryuuko --- Soon after, the group decided that the time for lunch was over. To the misfortune of Valeriya and Hana, which ended up becoming involved with the entire thing. Ryuuko, on the other hand, was just happy that they've finally left the Japanese restaurant. As for her role in this mismatched group of Polymaths, she had decided to continue "escorting" Jeanne, leaving the investigation of the scene of the shooting and the identity of the Man-bat to the others for now. Along the way, she had noticed and had summarily ignored the whispers and gazes that were directed at Jeanne, Nazca, and herself. She's no stranger to having bad cred, considering most of Japan already saw her in a negative light. The thought brought a small smirk to her face. They'll all see who will have the last laugh. Upon arrival to the Incan-style apartments where Jeanne and Nazca were assigned to, Ryuuko nodded in approval, while also feeling a little bit of envy about it. Would've been a way better place to be assigned to, this. Rather than a dang ryokan... Haaa... She let out a sigh and shook her head briefly. Oh well, at least my roommate's awesome. A saving grace, really. As for the swimming pool and the students currently making good use of it, Ryuuko deliberately paid little attention to them. She'd normally enjoy a good swim at a pool, but at the moment the swimming pool somehow reminded her of "seaweed" and "musty odor" due to what happened to her room back in the ryokan. She really didn't feel like thinking about it. At all. Soon enough, they arrived to the living room of Jeanne's suite. Nazca will be returning to her own suite, and despite some brief hesitation, Ryuuko still managed a small smile and a "Good luck with the photos, Ms. Whitehall. See you around." She had also exchanged her contact info with Nazca (also with some brief hesitation) and the others earlier after Nazca suggested it back in the restaurant. As for Jeanne's mention of wanting to bath alone, Ryuuko replied with a simple "Oh yeah, sure thing. I'll wait here then. Enjoy your bath, Jeanne!" For a moment there, she amusingly misheard Jeanne's word. It almost sounded like "bathing along", which made Ryuuko had to suppress a surprised flinch. Haha, silly me. Of course that's not what she said! She then took a seat to wait until Jeanne finish her bathing. ... Sitting had lasted approximately a minute however, and she soon became quite bored. Thus, she started looking around nosily instead, walking all over the place to see what's in the living room.</s>	<\|message\|>Franz Steiner Once Franz has gotten back to his dorm room, he was displeased to see the smell had not been cleaned up. No matter, he thought, the cleaning crew should be around any time now. It was best that he just thrust his mind into his studies and let them do their job. Another issue that had presented itself was the lack of any acceptable desk. All the tables here were far too low to the ground for Franz' comfort. He must remember to get a proper Occidental desk put in place at the earliest possible time. No matter, he could make do for now and just continue his study. Franz went to his stored belongings and surveyed his spiders while feeding them. Which one would mark his first study in Bermuda? Thor the tarantula was the largest spider of the three and also the most lacking in mental capability, this made him the easiest to produce some results with. But that would be too easy. Freyja the black widow, a size smaller with a greater degree of intelligence posed a larger challenge. Franz' only web spinner leaves at least some physical record once a study is concluded. But no, Franz wanted to start with Loki the fringed jumping spider. Widely regarded as the most intelligent spider breed he was also the smallest of the three. Any progress was hard to make and even harder to see visually. Loki was a tough nut to crack. But Franz welcomed the challenge and wanted to get to work with all the free time he had. Franz placed Loki on one of the low lying excuses for a table and went to grab his violin. The smell hit him again but he tried to put it out of his mind. The staff would take care of it after all. Raising the bow to the strings, Franz prepared to play. But another whiff of the room invaded his senses. No, Franz concluded, he could not wait for the staff to arrive and sort this out. It wasn't just him either. Franz thought he could see that Loki was put off by the smell also. If the spider were to exhibit abnormal behaviour from outside sources during his study, it would ruin his notes. He got up and left the room to ask about getting cleaning supplies. Franz proceeded to spend the next several hours cleaning the room. He was particularly thorough to remove any slight scent of last night's mistake. </s>
<\|description\|>Shou Zheng 15 \| Male \| 5'10, 1.78m \| 234lbs, 106kg The Song Central Empire \| Egoism \| Aquatic Adaptation His Story One of the youngest members of the Ministry, Shou comes from a family of sailors that have served the nation in naval matters for many generations. The high rate of Polymaths among the Zheng family is attributed to descending from a great Sea Serpent in ancient times. Though not all members have served in the Ministry, it's almost certain that they'll find their calling braving the waves of the sea. Despite hailing from one of the older and well established families, Shou's upbringing was never suffocating for him. With generation after generation of successful Polymaths, a sense of personal freedom had become ingrained in the family. Egoism was all about expression of one's self, and trying to force one of their own to reject that and conform? That was something their Esteemed Elder would not stand. However with this freedom came the expectation that they would excel at whatever path they chose though. To that end, they spend time with many tutors from a young age so they may learn of the world and discover what might interest them to devote their studies to. Like many of his family, the sea has called to Shou from a young age and fueled a strong sense of wanderlust. While it's likely he could have found success anywhere given how easily he took to the numerous lessons, he found himself constantly drawn to leave instead. The sparkling waters in the port of his home were far too clear, and he wished to see what laid beyond the horizons and in the murky depths below. The history of such things did not initially interest Shou, but that would change with the event that garnered the Ministry's attention. Nowadays there are few things that can cause entire merchant fleets to sink. The spread and adoption of Technologist materials have led to sturdier ships that can withstand all but the worst of storms. Diplomatic ties among the Orient nations have reduced conflicts on the sea to a fraction of historic highs. The waters patrolled by the various navies typically ensure that whatever inhabits the lightless depths stay out of the way. Typically. While not the lone survivor of the disaster, Shou is one of the few that has deemed capable of returning to civilization. Given the actions of other survivors upon being rescued by nearby Korean ships, it's perhaps unsurprising that he is under watch by the Ministry. Seeing how he's somehow been allowed to travel far from the nation's borders and attend Bermuda? Clearly the Ministry is not of a single intent towards Shou, and he is more than willing to test the limit of the strings placed upon him. His Formulizations Shou's tattoos are made up of seemingly unrelated symbols that are connected only through proximity and currently adorn only his back. Any flow to the collection is far from apparent and most likely something of the viewer's own perception as Shou admits it is mostly done from his gut instinct. Likewise, he does not have a particular method of developing the symbols. Some come to him in dreams while others gradually develop from his observations of the world around him. The dance between a school of fish and a pack of hunters etching itself into his mind for example. The results of his Egoism are also quite clear to see. While he hasn't strayed from his humanoid figure yet, Shou has developed several notable bestial features that clearly mark his branch of Formulization. * Tail: Prehensile and incredibly powerful, this appendage both assists Shou in swimming through the water and functions as a natural weapon. The bony fins at the very end are quite tough and can serve as spikes, allowing the limb to both bludgeon or pierce if necessary. * Finned Ears: Even the ability to see in the dark is not enough at the depths Shou can dive to. In order to make up for that, he has developed the ability to use echolocation in place of vision. The extensions help to capture the returning sound waves. While he lacks lacks the ability to use echolocation out of water, the shift in vocal cords required for echolocation do allow something of a deafening shout if needed. * Ocean Born: The most obvious feature here would be the slits on the front of Shou's neck that serve as gills when he's underwater and the webbed hands and feet that increase water mobility. Some of the other properties include being resistant to pressure and temperature changes, and an increased lung capacity that was leftover from before his gills manifested. * Superhuman Physique: The nature of his changes alongside the training Shou has undergone has put him squarely beyond what a regular human could hope to accomplish. While much of this is simply supernatural, his body itself is also denser, tougher, and stronger. --- Organization: Ministry of Maritime Affairs The 13th Sea</s> <\|message\|>Franz Steiner --- -Arrival- Franz took in the sheer spectacle of Bermuda. The sense of awe he felt in the presence of such displays had only been matched one time before. It was much like his first trip to Vienna. Growing up in some gloomy farm town and arriving in the grand centre of the nation. Now, he stood in the grand centre of the world. His eyes were filled with wonder, while his mouth had a slight bitter taste of the wealth taken to construct it. It was a strange, conflicting set of emotions to be sure. The guided tour was an educational one. Franz never missed the opportunity to ask about landmarks and gain a greater understanding of the entire city. He made a particular mental note about the curfew. 10pm was a reasonable time and he would have no problem following it. But could he gain some advantage from staying past it? Certainly if it were only a fog that stops navigation, himself or most Egoists could still easily navigate it. Even then, most students of Bermuda's caliber wouldn't be held back by a simple fog. There was probably more to it, and he was not about to be the lab rat to find out. The final stop was in front of some daunting, oversized doors. Franz was glad he had asked about opening ceremonies before getting off the air ship. Freya and Thor would have become stressed to no end if they had to endure whatever was on the other side. Another bonus was that he was dressed to the nines from the get go. In all regards, he was ready for this party. --- -A Social Butterfly- The first thing that stood out to Franz was the music. The technological constructs played competently, flawlessly in fact. It was an incredible feat of science that was playing before him. But he couldn't ignore the fact that it was a disservice to the arts. Ask any musician in Vienna and they will tell you that technical excellence is only a fraction of playing compelling music. The 'flaws' are small additions of personality each musician brings to their performance. Although the untrained ear cannot consciously pin point the difference, it is subconsciously noticed by all. Unfortunately, technical excellence is all these constructs could bring to the table. Music was music though, and there was no point in having a sour mood over nothing. Franz knew who he had to enquire about for his mission, but in his mind there was plenty of time. The night was still young after all and he deemed it far more important that he make a good name for himself. There were 2000 students starting attendance, but Franz doubted he would need to learn the names of more than 100 of them. Still, he needed to wade through just about all of them to find out who those 100 people were. Franz approached a waiter carrying a plate of wine glasses, but didn't grab one. "Waiter, this is a place of wonder and mystery to me. Therefore, it would be fitting that I try a wine I have never had before." The waiter paused for a bit before handing him a small glass containing a pink wine. The waiter was correct, Franz had only heard about pink wine through conversation and rumors back home. "Thank you" he replied before dismissing the waiter and giving it a curious sip. It was quite sweet and very palatable compared to the few wines he had tried previously. Franz would have to remind himself of moderation, not that he has struggled with it in the past. The wonder of Bermuda and the excitement of new horizons had made sparking conversation very easy. Franz had found himself occupied with three other students making casual conversation and cracking the occasional joke. One even laughed at his mention of studying Mesmerology, thinking it to be a joke. Franz took no offense of course, the reputation of the profession was well known and he had met plenty of ignorant people before. Franz had his back turned so he didn't see Lucy making a beeline toward him. "Guten Abend, Herr Steiner" Franz spun around to see… nothing. It was only until he tilted his head down that he saw who was addressing him. Lucrieta von Konigsmahne, any German would recognize that family name and that fame would also extend to their Austrian neighbours. Franz was well aware of who she was even before she introduced herself. "Ah, Guten Abend." "I am Lucretia von Konigsmahne, a pleasure to meet you. Would you honor me with a moment of your time?" How curious that a girl of such family prestige would seek out someone like him, Franz thought. Still, he would reply politely and continue the conversation in German. "The pleasure is all mine, frau Konigsmahne." He would take her hand and gently shake it while giving a small bow. "You must forgive me, I am not too well versed in the German etiquette nor that of higher nobility. I do, however, always have time to give to one who speaks the native tongue." --- Mentions: @Izurich</s> <\|message\|>Valeriya Zhukova Valeriya Zhukova Truth be told, she doubted she'd ever get used to this. For an orphan girl from Siberia masquerading as a prodigy adopted by lesser nobility, the trappings of the rich and powerful were still somewhat foreign to Valeriya. Only on the inside, of course. Externally, the blonde engineer merely gave off a bored-looking stare as she followed after her tour group. Even as Valeryia did as best she could to blend in and not stand out overmuch, she still marvelled internally at the sheer opulence of the facilities. Even the dorms were better than anything she'd ever slept in, including the manor of the boyars she'd been actually inserted with both to establish her cover and to reinforce how to act in her assigned role. The idea of a 10 pm curfew was hilarious, though. And she was probably going to violate that sooner rather than later. For her mission if nothing else. Hopefully, whoever she was bunked with would both be tolerable and not ask too many questions. She could work around either or both not being the case, but why ask for hardship if one doesn't need to? ___ God, how were her fellows getting drunk off this literal piss water? Valeriya gave a dissatisfied grimace as she knocked back a glass of rose that was too light and too sweet to be dubbed alcohol. Hell, she doubted there was anything stronger here than red wine. Still, best not to get too drunk at any time here. There were appearances to maintain and secrets to keep. Nonetheless, Valeriya supposed to herself that she should begin socializing. Best to blend in first and make sure her cover was secure before working in earnest towards her assignment. Fortunately, Valeriya had taken full advantage of the dress rooms and rentals to switch into garb more appropriate for high society. Tonight, she wore a simply-designed, yet high-quality long silk dress dyed red, with exposed shoulders and arms. Slightly scandalous, but well-crafted enough and just tasteful enough that she wasn't outing herself as some sort of slattern. A quick glance around the room gave her at least one conversation starter already. She smirked slightly at the...well, she couldn't really tell what nationality he was just from a glance. Definitely from the Middle East or the southern parts of the Orient. Still, good to know someone else couldn't quite stomach the literal grape juice they had on offer tonight. Valeriya sidled up beside what she didn't know was a Mughal, letting a light, casual smirk stay on her face. "I see someone else here cannot stand this...fruit juice either." She remarked in Chinese tinged in a moderate Russian accent. While her Latin was perfect, Valeriya's apparent command of the trade languages was...less so. She could certainly tighten up her diction and lessen her accent, but there was little need to here. Frankly, it would be more odd to see an Occidental this young speak both of the common trade languages with near-native pronounciation, even though she could. "Back home in Russia, this would be regarded as barely worth of being called alcohol. I take it your homeland also prefers stronger beverages?" She inclined her head towards the boy slightly, her smirk softening. "But where are my manners? Valeriya Zhukova. A pleasure." ___ Mentions: @SgtEasy</s>	<\|message\|>Shou Zheng As the tours came to an end, Shou found there was little he could complain about the facilities and accommodations offered by the Academy. He might have grown accustomed to life aboard merchant and naval ships, but he certainly wasn't going to turn his nose up at a bit of comfort and luxury. The weeks spent aboard the Queen Titania had shown he had no trouble sleeping in the softest of beds. With the gentle call of the waves against the sandy beaches in the distance and a slight kiss of salt in the air? There would be no trouble relaxing and enjoying his time spent at the Academy. Diving into the ocean beneath the setting sun might have been his first choice after being cooped up in an airship all the way to Bermuda, but a grand and opulent party wasn't bad either. The barrage to his senses was rather pleasant, and he quickly took in all that the hall had to offer as he stepped inside. Music had never been of much interest to him, and he paid little attention to the symphony as background noise. Instead, his ears twitched a bit as he caught all manners of conversations. While many were spoken in Latin, there were perhaps just as many being carried out in the students' native tongues. While he kept an ear out on the off-chance something important slipped, Shou personally enjoyed the array of scents that filled the hall from the laid out feast. There was plenty of unfamiliar fare to sample and taste, and he started to fill up a plate for himself. If this were a more official ceremony, he may have first changed his clothes like some of the other students had. For a welcome ceremony that the students were supposed to enjoy? Having alterations made to suit him seemed like a waste of time and materials, however small, when he was perfectly comfortable as is. With a well-laden plate in one hand and a pair of glasses in the other, Shou cast his gaze around the hall as he waited for the chef to finish with his last request. Within the crowd of his peers it was easy to see numerous Egoists like himself. 'What do each of them strive for?' He wondered as he looked from one to another. In between them Polymaths of all kinds, geniuses of his generation. It was a bit of a shame their specializations were not so readily apparent. Certainly it would have made his task a lot easier. "Thanks." Leaving his thoughts alone for a moment, he nodded towards the man before finally making his way to one of the tables that lined the walls of the hall. Sipping from one of the glasses, he had to weave a bit here and there as his tail whipped back and forth to slip through the other students without bumping into anyone. The slight fizz and sweetness to the bubbling drink was quite different and nice to what they drank back home. Weaker too if he could barely differentiate the alcohol within from the carbonation. Taking one of the seats that were designed to accommodate an Egoist with a tail such as himself, Shou started eating right away. The Academy had even been thoughtful enough to provide chopsticks alongside the more typical Western utensils.</s>
<\|description\|>Shou Zheng 15 \| Male \| 5'10, 1.78m \| 234lbs, 106kg The Song Central Empire \| Egoism \| Aquatic Adaptation His Story One of the youngest members of the Ministry, Shou comes from a family of sailors that have served the nation in naval matters for many generations. The high rate of Polymaths among the Zheng family is attributed to descending from a great Sea Serpent in ancient times. Though not all members have served in the Ministry, it's almost certain that they'll find their calling braving the waves of the sea. Despite hailing from one of the older and well established families, Shou's upbringing was never suffocating for him. With generation after generation of successful Polymaths, a sense of personal freedom had become ingrained in the family. Egoism was all about expression of one's self, and trying to force one of their own to reject that and conform? That was something their Esteemed Elder would not stand. However with this freedom came the expectation that they would excel at whatever path they chose though. To that end, they spend time with many tutors from a young age so they may learn of the world and discover what might interest them to devote their studies to. Like many of his family, the sea has called to Shou from a young age and fueled a strong sense of wanderlust. While it's likely he could have found success anywhere given how easily he took to the numerous lessons, he found himself constantly drawn to leave instead. The sparkling waters in the port of his home were far too clear, and he wished to see what laid beyond the horizons and in the murky depths below. The history of such things did not initially interest Shou, but that would change with the event that garnered the Ministry's attention. Nowadays there are few things that can cause entire merchant fleets to sink. The spread and adoption of Technologist materials have led to sturdier ships that can withstand all but the worst of storms. Diplomatic ties among the Orient nations have reduced conflicts on the sea to a fraction of historic highs. The waters patrolled by the various navies typically ensure that whatever inhabits the lightless depths stay out of the way. Typically. While not the lone survivor of the disaster, Shou is one of the few that has deemed capable of returning to civilization. Given the actions of other survivors upon being rescued by nearby Korean ships, it's perhaps unsurprising that he is under watch by the Ministry. Seeing how he's somehow been allowed to travel far from the nation's borders and attend Bermuda? Clearly the Ministry is not of a single intent towards Shou, and he is more than willing to test the limit of the strings placed upon him. His Formulizations Shou's tattoos are made up of seemingly unrelated symbols that are connected only through proximity and currently adorn only his back. Any flow to the collection is far from apparent and most likely something of the viewer's own perception as Shou admits it is mostly done from his gut instinct. Likewise, he does not have a particular method of developing the symbols. Some come to him in dreams while others gradually develop from his observations of the world around him. The dance between a school of fish and a pack of hunters etching itself into his mind for example. The results of his Egoism are also quite clear to see. While he hasn't strayed from his humanoid figure yet, Shou has developed several notable bestial features that clearly mark his branch of Formulization. * Tail: Prehensile and incredibly powerful, this appendage both assists Shou in swimming through the water and functions as a natural weapon. The bony fins at the very end are quite tough and can serve as spikes, allowing the limb to both bludgeon or pierce if necessary. * Finned Ears: Even the ability to see in the dark is not enough at the depths Shou can dive to. In order to make up for that, he has developed the ability to use echolocation in place of vision. The extensions help to capture the returning sound waves. While he lacks lacks the ability to use echolocation out of water, the shift in vocal cords required for echolocation do allow something of a deafening shout if needed. * Ocean Born: The most obvious feature here would be the slits on the front of Shou's neck that serve as gills when he's underwater and the webbed hands and feet that increase water mobility. Some of the other properties include being resistant to pressure and temperature changes, and an increased lung capacity that was leftover from before his gills manifested. * Superhuman Physique: The nature of his changes alongside the training Shou has undergone has put him squarely beyond what a regular human could hope to accomplish. While much of this is simply supernatural, his body itself is also denser, tougher, and stronger. --- Organization: Ministry of Maritime Affairs The 13th Sea</s> <\|message\|>Shou Zheng --- Shou Zheng --- Shou had only just dropped his plate off with one of the servers when a sudden shout caught his attention. While not particularly defeaning with the size of the hall, there was a stark difference between the din of casual conversation and a cry of command. The size of the hall would have made finding the cause a bit difficult though if not for the unfurling of a German golem. He watched it form and ready itself with interest through narrowed eyes, and put the thought of food out of his mind for the moment. Instead of trying to slip his way through the students that were drawn to the commotion, Shou took advantage of the opera boxes that lined the second floor. A casual jump gave him enough height to reach the railings that lined each private area, but he did wince a bit as the metal bent underneath his grip. They probably would have crumpled under the impact if he tried to land on them. He turned his attention out towards the rest of the hall quickly though and squinted at the two figures next to the golem. Well, he could only see one of them given the floating construct's bulk, but his posture made it quite clear that there was another held in his arms. The attire narrowed down the possibilities, but without getting a look at the man's face it was hard for him to say who it was. The person being held was quite obviously the Konigsmahne's heir though. Her Schwarzritter could hardly be mistaken for anything else. "Pfft." He couldn't help it, and it's not like there was anyone else up here to hear Shou snort as he realized what had happened. From his perspective he could see the chandelier above with its missing bulb, and the red struck a nice contrast with the student's white clothes. Inti's little demonstration seemed to have done more than just flashbang a poor Egoist, but it was a bit odd. The bulbs weren't particular massive nor made of thick glass. Was he just unlucky or had the injury been planned to garner some sympathy? Hard to say with just a look from afar, and it seemed like the pair were quick to escape from prying eyes. A few moments later and the mess had already been cleaned up by some of the staff. From is vantage point, Shou took the opportunity to scout out the hall a bit further. The change in music seemed to have brought some students out to the dance floor, and it seemed that Inti was among them. No need to return to their table then. With that in mind, he took a moment to stretch his legs as he hopped from one empty box to another. When the next was finally occupied, he descended just as swiftly as he had taken to the second floor. His tail smacked against the floor as a brace after he hopped the railing again, and he smooth his clothes out as he stood. "Ah, hopefully that didn't startle you," he remarked to the blonde he found himself in front of as he bowed briefly. If she had been in any danger of being bowled over by him, Shou would have seen her beforehand he hopped down.</s> <\|message\|>Jeanne du Bordeaux --- Jeanne looked a bit distracted before Shou came, her eyes staring at the sudden commotion by... one of the Germans it seemed. An iron golem, capable of tearing through everyone in this very room in just a blink of an eye. And yet not a single one of these cretins seemed alarmed by the show. Discreetly she started pulling out more buttons from her pockets, putting on on her hand where it disappeared up her sleeve. "Ah, hopefully that didn't startle you." For a moment, just for an instant, her hand full of buttons seemed to click, as a single burning blue light flickered within, turning its blue core straight at Shou, a burning pinprick that seemed to focus on him. The next instant however, it seemed as if that never happened, and as she raised that hand again, it was empty. "Non. But please make jumping in front of people less of a habit." Jeanne glanced towards the iron golem again, to find it has disappeared. "There are those with far less inhibition than me, Monsieur..." She paused, waiting for Shou to give his name.</s>	<\|message\|>Shou Zheng Just Chatting? Jeanne du Bordeaux and Shou Zheng --- With his head briefly bowed, Shou missed the brief flicker of light that bled through Jeanne's fist. By the time he straightened his posture and met her blue eyes, there was nothing seemingly out of place. "Zheng," he introduced himself with a grin. "Shou is fine too if you wish to drop the Monsieur." He tilted his head as he considered her warning for a moment before his lips curled into more of a smirk. "Well, it would make things a bit more exciting. Haven't even found a Technologist willing to put their works to a test yet," he griped with a shake of his head, "granted the Titania wasn't the best site for tests of that sort." Before he continued though, Shou offered out a hand for Jeanna to shake and a chance to intoduce herself in turn. "Jeanne" She gave his hand a brisk shake. "Jeanne du Bordeaux. From your... interesting, appearance, you are an Egoist, no? Careful what you ask for, Monsieur Zheng. Not all have forgotten the war." "You'd think so, but drugs have proved that the body is quite malleable," Shou replied after a measured handshake. "But yes, I am an Egoist like many of my family. I'm sure someone back home would have a fit at the possibility of Technologism replicating our advancements." A glance over his shoulder followed Jeanne's own from moments ago, and he exhaled sharply. "Hard to imagine they have when the Konig's heir has her floating death machine with her. That's not even going into the other militaristic Polymaths among our peers. Though I'm not sure if you would be among them. The stories I've heard about your exploits all seem rather destructive enough to count." Jeanne simply waved those comments away. "Bah, those were but experiments upon which to test out my machines. The machine matters not when it comes to killing, for it is the Man that commits it. The Germans would have you believe the heartless machines would win wars, and parade around ridiculous overengineered machines such as those she brings."There was no question of who she was refering to. "But..." She took a closer look at Shou. "I have heard it took a hundred times what a normal man can take, to kill an Egoist. I cannot deny it would be amusing to see how well you fare against my machines. Tell me, Monsieur Zheng, have you experienced well the knowledge of Technologists while travelling? I've assumed with your form, you have much experience under your belt, even with your age." He supposed the rumors he had heard about her all had carried a sort of derisive tone to them. "Such blunt honesty is refreshing," Shou remarked before he clicked his tongue. "I suppose that might be why she sought out the budding Mesmerologist then. True automation seems unlikely without unlocking the secrets of the mind, and I'm sure the Germans can't wait until they no longer have to dirty their hands with such barbarism." "In my case, I believe it would be dozens," he answered with a confident nod before he took a few moments to consider her question. "Not as much as I would like if we're being honest. With my family's reputation, most law abiding citizens are somewhat reserved when it comes to indulging my desires to test myself. Pirates on the other hand? Well, they don't mind breaking out the lightning guns and power loaders at all!" "Ah... Such experience you have then." Jeanne could barely hold back a smug smirk, trying to suppress it into a small smile but only managing an odd sort of condenscending exression halfway between a grin and a smirk. "I suppose the majority of Technologists are unenlightened brutes such as them. The light of understanding seems to evade quite a lot of people after all. Those pirates you speak of seems no more than unwashed louts barely able to string together a light." Shou on the other hand had no such compulsion and snorted with amusement at Jeanne's expression. "Most of them weren't even Polymaths, just lucky brutes that managed to get some better equipment than their peers. They did put up a bit more of a fight at the least." He rubbed the side of his gut briefly afterwards before he raised an eyebrow. "And what would you be then, Madame? Are you truly enlightened, or seeking the fuel to grow your spark brighter?" It wasn't the first time he had heard something along the lines of what Jeanne espoused. Usually people didn't like hearing that sort of thing either, and the resulting conflict was at least interesting, if not even fun~ Jeanne's smirk grew wider at that. "Who knows? Perhaps I shall be the one to bring the dawn upon the world and have come here to do so. Perhaps I shall do nothing, and remain perfectly content living shrouded in obscurity. Enlightened or a glory hound? Which one do you think I am?" "If you wanted obscurity, you've chosen a very interesting spot to try and achieve that. I'd hate to find out that there was no substance to what you've said as well, so why not both? A bit of fame is warranted for the torchbearer after all." "Reality is often disappointing." Fishing in her pocket, Jeanne pulled out a round button, a domed circle with a flat bottom. It looked like bronze, with a beautiful relief of the morning star upon it, but it would be clear it was made of something similar to porcelain once one held it. She tossed it to Shou. "Here. Find me again after this if you still wish to test yourself against a true Technologist." "All the more reason to try and make things interesting." He caught the small object between his fingers and held it up to examine for a moment. His thumb rubbed against the design embedded onto it before he nodded in response. "Sounds like a plan then. I'll be in touch." With another brief bow, he finally turned away from Jeanne and headed back into the throng of students.</s>
<\|description\|>Shou Zheng 15 \| Male \| 5'10, 1.78m \| 234lbs, 106kg The Song Central Empire \| Egoism \| Aquatic Adaptation His Story One of the youngest members of the Ministry, Shou comes from a family of sailors that have served the nation in naval matters for many generations. The high rate of Polymaths among the Zheng family is attributed to descending from a great Sea Serpent in ancient times. Though not all members have served in the Ministry, it's almost certain that they'll find their calling braving the waves of the sea. Despite hailing from one of the older and well established families, Shou's upbringing was never suffocating for him. With generation after generation of successful Polymaths, a sense of personal freedom had become ingrained in the family. Egoism was all about expression of one's self, and trying to force one of their own to reject that and conform? That was something their Esteemed Elder would not stand. However with this freedom came the expectation that they would excel at whatever path they chose though. To that end, they spend time with many tutors from a young age so they may learn of the world and discover what might interest them to devote their studies to. Like many of his family, the sea has called to Shou from a young age and fueled a strong sense of wanderlust. While it's likely he could have found success anywhere given how easily he took to the numerous lessons, he found himself constantly drawn to leave instead. The sparkling waters in the port of his home were far too clear, and he wished to see what laid beyond the horizons and in the murky depths below. The history of such things did not initially interest Shou, but that would change with the event that garnered the Ministry's attention. Nowadays there are few things that can cause entire merchant fleets to sink. The spread and adoption of Technologist materials have led to sturdier ships that can withstand all but the worst of storms. Diplomatic ties among the Orient nations have reduced conflicts on the sea to a fraction of historic highs. The waters patrolled by the various navies typically ensure that whatever inhabits the lightless depths stay out of the way. Typically. While not the lone survivor of the disaster, Shou is one of the few that has deemed capable of returning to civilization. Given the actions of other survivors upon being rescued by nearby Korean ships, it's perhaps unsurprising that he is under watch by the Ministry. Seeing how he's somehow been allowed to travel far from the nation's borders and attend Bermuda? Clearly the Ministry is not of a single intent towards Shou, and he is more than willing to test the limit of the strings placed upon him. His Formulizations Shou's tattoos are made up of seemingly unrelated symbols that are connected only through proximity and currently adorn only his back. Any flow to the collection is far from apparent and most likely something of the viewer's own perception as Shou admits it is mostly done from his gut instinct. Likewise, he does not have a particular method of developing the symbols. Some come to him in dreams while others gradually develop from his observations of the world around him. The dance between a school of fish and a pack of hunters etching itself into his mind for example. The results of his Egoism are also quite clear to see. While he hasn't strayed from his humanoid figure yet, Shou has developed several notable bestial features that clearly mark his branch of Formulization. * Tail: Prehensile and incredibly powerful, this appendage both assists Shou in swimming through the water and functions as a natural weapon. The bony fins at the very end are quite tough and can serve as spikes, allowing the limb to both bludgeon or pierce if necessary. * Finned Ears: Even the ability to see in the dark is not enough at the depths Shou can dive to. In order to make up for that, he has developed the ability to use echolocation in place of vision. The extensions help to capture the returning sound waves. While he lacks lacks the ability to use echolocation out of water, the shift in vocal cords required for echolocation do allow something of a deafening shout if needed. * Ocean Born: The most obvious feature here would be the slits on the front of Shou's neck that serve as gills when he's underwater and the webbed hands and feet that increase water mobility. Some of the other properties include being resistant to pressure and temperature changes, and an increased lung capacity that was leftover from before his gills manifested. * Superhuman Physique: The nature of his changes alongside the training Shou has undergone has put him squarely beyond what a regular human could hope to accomplish. While much of this is simply supernatural, his body itself is also denser, tougher, and stronger. --- Organization: Ministry of Maritime Affairs The 13th Sea</s> <\|message\|>Franz Steiner --- Franz had left the other boy behind while he went to go grab his jacket. Did he expect his call to action to work? In truth, probably not. Most of the students seemed terrified to take the stage before he danced, and now after his performance, the pressure was probably too much. Franz slung his jacket back over his shoulders then wrapped the tie around his neck. While he was adjusting the tie back into his previously formal look, he turned around with a smug smile on his face. He was expecting an empty floor but was pleasantly surprised. The boy was actually doing it, he had taken to the stage. All things considered, he was not bad either. Franz felt the need to stick around and watch. After all, he had been caught off guard by the boy's bravery. It's not as if Franz showed it though. This had only caused him to raise his eyebrows a bit in surprise. Franz had an image to uphold and he was not about to look outwardly baffled just because of one incorrect assumption. Who was this boy that he would do what no one else in the hall was willing to? Certainly, everyone here was worthy of name recognition. But the name of this boy had never reached Franz. It was an unfortunate reality that news, rumours, and tales are not held equal in the Occident. Franz could probably name every person from the Occident here, the Konigsmahne's fall from grace, the fire include du Bordeaux, and the Oriental defector are all tales he has heard multiple times. But when it comes to the New World, the stories are few and far between. Franz wanted to inquire about this New World boy, but he would not ask the people around him. The best first impressions were made face to face after all. The boy's dancing was humble and clearly improvised. He could see some sort of style and form coming through, but the music certainly didn't fit it. In truth though, it was an enjoyable performance. When Inti was taken outside of his comfort zone, improvisation was used to the flow of the music. It reminded Franz of dancing in his home town. Before rules and strict conduct was a demand for something as natural as dancing. Franz clapped at the end of Inti's dance and caught his attention as he was exiting the floor. "Well done, very well done. I assume you haven't learnt much in the way of Occidental dance, but the confidence was there. Certainly, I don't see anyone else willing to take to the centre." This was probably the first thing Franz had said all night that was entirely genuine. "My name is Franz Steiner, but I have not quite caught your name." He held out his hand as if expecting a hand shake. ---</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --A Missing Patrician-- After taking care of some private business - and not the bathroom kind of private business - Lucretia made her way back to the Hall of the Greats, accompanied by the unquestioningly-loyal Schwarzritter. She entered the already-opened double doors as clockwork symphony graced her ears once more. Hmmm... now she'd just need to locate Mr. Gharbi and dance with him, yet something was rather off. Common sense would dictate that if he invited her for a dance, then he should be waiting near the entrance for convenience, but it seemed either he was late or she arrived earlier than expected. "Guten Abend, Frau Konigsmahn-..." One of the waitstaff, a German himself, was carrying a tray of sparkling wine in crystal glasses when he recognized the heiress, he tried to greet her only for Lucy to seemingly don't even recognize his existence and just simply walked off. "..." The waiter's polite smile faded into an awkward frown, so what people said regarding her being exceptionally aloof was true, well he just hoped she wasn't singling him out for some reason. Ahaha... yeah, that would be silly, she's just that kind of genius, a shame that the house was using her to further their ambitions though. But eh, what the fuck do I know? These nobles and their politics. In truth, Lucretia really did have nothing against that particular waiter, she was just deep in thought and didn't recognize someone was specifically addressing her, although her usual expression of an indifferent flat stare whether she was thinking or not didn't exactly help her image, Hmmm... well, his forearm was injured, perhaps he decided to rest a bit more before returning here. It made sense and she couldn't fault him for prioritizing his health over a dance, there were always more opportunities in the future anyway. With that deduction in mind, she decided to pick a vacant spot among the many ornate dining chairs. This one just so happened to be quite close to the dancing floor so she could get a good look at what's happening there. Oh, that's Herr Steiner... She saw his dance, a show of energetic twirls, leaps, and footwork. It's certainly rather unorthodox considering the 'high culture' style of the event. He finished off the performance like a ballerina, spinning thrice before ending with a flourish. That must've been difficult to perform. Lucy mused as she made barely-audible claps, the noise overwhelmingly drowned out by the music and cheering around the dance floor. Then Franz seemed to tag someone else to take the stage, a boy with fiery eyes and white hair like hers but further marked by red highlights, wearing a colorful set of Abya Yalan clothes, particularly South Abya Yala it seemed, that poncho was the most distinctive part of the outfit. Lucy didn't know him personally, but he and Franz seemed to be friends. He then proceeded to dance and while Lucy could somewhat recognize that Franz's dance - unorthodox it might be - was distinctly Occidental, especially with the ballerina spin, but this white-haired boy... moved in such a foreign way that Lucy couldn't have any other deductions except that it was an Abya Yalan style. It was enjoyable, although yes, it didn't exactly fit with the music, one didn't need to be an expert dancer to see that. The Abya Yalan boy soon finished his performance and exited the stage, being approached by Herr Steiner again. ...oh. Right, since every student was here right now and she's not doing anything in particular... this might be a good chance to search for this "Egoist Defector" that Franz mentioned, yes, she should do that. Although... with so many students around - even if she narrowed them to just the Egoists - and without further information on this defector's physical attributes, she would be hard-pressed to identify them. It will be a pointless endeavor... I should wait for a reply instead. Yes, indeed, they should be able to provide her with further information. For now, well, she supposed it was time to indulge herself a little. Getting up, Lucy proceeded to procure herself a selection of German sausages and hams: bratwurst, frankfurter, wiener würstchen, and others, then finally garnished with a serving of potato salad and sauerkraut. A small portion of each as she had never been someone who ate much. Her order done, the silver-haired girl went back to her previous chair, sat down, and began consuming her meal in peace.</s>	<\|message\|>Shou Zheng Alas, the young German's peace wasn't to last for long. The commotion with the lights may have caused a momentary distraction, one that was further lengthened by his conversation with Jeanne, but in the end Shou did return to the laid out feast for another plate of food. He sampled his way from table to table, and the dishes he found to his liking were piled upon the plate. There was no point in returning to an empty table across the hall, and the dance floor seemed like it had finally attracted some attention. He paused when he saw that it was Inti at the center of attention though. It wasn't too odd given how excitable and outgoing the boy had been during their conversation, and despite the clash between his style and the Occidental orchestra, it didn't seem to dampen his enthusiasm much. It was good to see that the other boy was enjoying himself instead of beating himself up over a simple accident at the least. His hands were a bit too full to join the others out on the dance floor at the moment though, and he shuddered a bit as the orchestra continued with its next performance. He preferred his dances a bit more energetic and frantic than this slow-paced swaying. Regardless of his preferences though, they weren't going to matter until he finished eating his full. There were plenty of empty tables by the dance floor as students migrated from one to the other, but he made his way towards a table occupied by one instead. It was a shame that her construct had already been folded back into its compact form though. Testing its stability as a perch would have been fun, if incredibly rude and off putting to the heiress. Then again, given how she apparently had to be protected by another student rather than her own creation earlier? She could have used a few more surprises to help refine her reactions a bit. Like Jeanne had said, the machine currently mattered less than the man wielding it. "Frau Konigsmahne," he called out while still a few feet away from her table. "May I join you for dinner?"</s>
<\|description\|>Shou Zheng 15 \| Male \| 5'10, 1.78m \| 234lbs, 106kg The Song Central Empire \| Egoism \| Aquatic Adaptation His Story One of the youngest members of the Ministry, Shou comes from a family of sailors that have served the nation in naval matters for many generations. The high rate of Polymaths among the Zheng family is attributed to descending from a great Sea Serpent in ancient times. Though not all members have served in the Ministry, it's almost certain that they'll find their calling braving the waves of the sea. Despite hailing from one of the older and well established families, Shou's upbringing was never suffocating for him. With generation after generation of successful Polymaths, a sense of personal freedom had become ingrained in the family. Egoism was all about expression of one's self, and trying to force one of their own to reject that and conform? That was something their Esteemed Elder would not stand. However with this freedom came the expectation that they would excel at whatever path they chose though. To that end, they spend time with many tutors from a young age so they may learn of the world and discover what might interest them to devote their studies to. Like many of his family, the sea has called to Shou from a young age and fueled a strong sense of wanderlust. While it's likely he could have found success anywhere given how easily he took to the numerous lessons, he found himself constantly drawn to leave instead. The sparkling waters in the port of his home were far too clear, and he wished to see what laid beyond the horizons and in the murky depths below. The history of such things did not initially interest Shou, but that would change with the event that garnered the Ministry's attention. Nowadays there are few things that can cause entire merchant fleets to sink. The spread and adoption of Technologist materials have led to sturdier ships that can withstand all but the worst of storms. Diplomatic ties among the Orient nations have reduced conflicts on the sea to a fraction of historic highs. The waters patrolled by the various navies typically ensure that whatever inhabits the lightless depths stay out of the way. Typically. While not the lone survivor of the disaster, Shou is one of the few that has deemed capable of returning to civilization. Given the actions of other survivors upon being rescued by nearby Korean ships, it's perhaps unsurprising that he is under watch by the Ministry. Seeing how he's somehow been allowed to travel far from the nation's borders and attend Bermuda? Clearly the Ministry is not of a single intent towards Shou, and he is more than willing to test the limit of the strings placed upon him. His Formulizations Shou's tattoos are made up of seemingly unrelated symbols that are connected only through proximity and currently adorn only his back. Any flow to the collection is far from apparent and most likely something of the viewer's own perception as Shou admits it is mostly done from his gut instinct. Likewise, he does not have a particular method of developing the symbols. Some come to him in dreams while others gradually develop from his observations of the world around him. The dance between a school of fish and a pack of hunters etching itself into his mind for example. The results of his Egoism are also quite clear to see. While he hasn't strayed from his humanoid figure yet, Shou has developed several notable bestial features that clearly mark his branch of Formulization. * Tail: Prehensile and incredibly powerful, this appendage both assists Shou in swimming through the water and functions as a natural weapon. The bony fins at the very end are quite tough and can serve as spikes, allowing the limb to both bludgeon or pierce if necessary. * Finned Ears: Even the ability to see in the dark is not enough at the depths Shou can dive to. In order to make up for that, he has developed the ability to use echolocation in place of vision. The extensions help to capture the returning sound waves. While he lacks lacks the ability to use echolocation out of water, the shift in vocal cords required for echolocation do allow something of a deafening shout if needed. * Ocean Born: The most obvious feature here would be the slits on the front of Shou's neck that serve as gills when he's underwater and the webbed hands and feet that increase water mobility. Some of the other properties include being resistant to pressure and temperature changes, and an increased lung capacity that was leftover from before his gills manifested. * Superhuman Physique: The nature of his changes alongside the training Shou has undergone has put him squarely beyond what a regular human could hope to accomplish. While much of this is simply supernatural, his body itself is also denser, tougher, and stronger. --- Organization: Ministry of Maritime Affairs The 13th Sea</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --British Invasion-- "...?" Suddenly for the second time that night, Lucretia was ambushed with absolutely no warning, first by shards of transparent glass and now by a strange white-haired Abya Yalan girl who spoke with a distinctly British accent. Lucy's green eyes blinked a few times, her protocol-directed mind taken unprepared, scrambling to make sense of the abrupt development of the situation, a situation that she abhorred to be in. Indeed, perhaps Shou's recommendation for her to improve her reaction time had merits after all... However, right now, she had to do something. Her brows frowned and the corner of her right eye twitched in frustrated annoyance at the intruder's blatant disrespect of her plans. Right now, the offender's identity, appearance, ethnicity, bearings, and everything else didn't matter in the slightest to the Iron Princess, she could be the Empress of Britannia and it wouldn't erase the fact that she just committed the greatest sin, disrupting her plans. Those shards of glass weren't sentient, they had no motivations to speak of, merely following the whims of gravity, unlike this... this brown-skinned Arschgeige! Lucy's pale lips quivered, her teeth gritting, then just as she was about to open her mouth to hurl some very demeaning authoritative words, Kalil managed to sidestep the trespasser and addressed her directly. The Indian prodigy could swear he heard Lucy sighing like a machine blowing off excess steam as the shorter paler white-haired girl took his dance invitation without a single fuss, genuinely not caring if it seemed rushed and walked with him to the dance floor. Finally, finally she could fulfill her promise and all was right again in the world. @Click This --A Home Away from Home-- Thus the ball ended and despite a few hiccups along the way, the event concluded satisfyingly for most students - save for a certain English polymath perhaps - including Lucretia as she closed the curtains via a dance with Kalil, amateurish it might be, she enjoyed it. Now, it was time to board the trams and retreat to their assigned dorms. The one assigned to her was honestly just fine, a faux medieval castle implemented with all the amenities that the modern age could offer. It was a fine abode for someone of her stature, although Lucy wasn't exactly a snob in terms of demands, the fact that a noble's way of life was all that she knew meant it was her standard, something to be expected, but fortunately for any would-be hosts out there, anything less would simply mean it was an inferior lodging as far as Lucy was concerned, nothing more. The petite silver-haired girl was indubitably dwarfed by the room's sheer scale, even if one would only consider half of it to belong to her, but she was used to such space, whether in the Konigsmahne's manor or her personal workshop. In fact, checking the studies was literally the first thing she did after entering the room, beelining there without delay, not even sparing her Russian roommate so much as a greeting. Twas' of utmost importance as she had specifically ordered for her WIP projects and associated materials to be delivered to her dorm's study. Hmmm... everything seemed to be in order, but there wasn't a way to be sure without opening these containers. "Schwarzritter, aktiviere." She ordered for the drone to unfurl itself to its full size then began ordering it to move the crates around, unstacking them neatly so she could open them and examine its contents. Of course, whether Valeriya cared for such things or not, this task would leave Lucy quite occupied and the Engineer of War would find no ice-breaking conversations from her 'roommate', although the latter half of the word could be debated. Landshark</s> <\|message\|>Valeriya Zhukova Valeriya Zhukova Well, if nothing else, the end of the ball had been a splendid diversion. Valeriya was more than certain she'd cemented herself in the minds of more than a few boys and girls among her peers. Perfect if she ever required connections for one issue or another. Or if she just wanted a different bedmate for a night. Not that the two were separate, of course. Her assigned quarters were...interesting, to say the least. Of all the possible options, a British-style castle wouldn't have been at the top of her list for a place to live. Still, she couldn't complain. It certainly beat her quarters back when she'd been in training at the Ministry. Valeriya's roommate was even more of an unexpected occurrence. What were the odds that she'd be sharing her quarters with one of the more notable students of the lot? And an utter brick wall in social terms, at that? Still, like with the quarters itself, she supposed it could be worse. Lucretia didn't seem inclined to be the first one to speak, so Valeriya supposed she'd have to be the one to start setting ground rules. The Russian hadn't brought too much luggage with her. Well, most of her materials and prototypes were already shipped to Bermuda's armory. So all she really had to unpack were clothes and the tools of her trade. Once those were squared away, she decided it was high time to make some attempt at socializing with the German. At least she had a better handle on the girl's personality, now. "Lucretia," Valeriya approached from across the room. "I thought it best if we establish some boundaries considering we'll be dorming together. I doubt we'll have many issues most of the time. I won't bother you, you won't bother me, though feel free to if you wish. At night, though..." She paused, thinking of how best to phrase this to a thirteen-year old before deciding to simply be blunt. "Occasionally, I may invite other students into the dormitory and into my bed. Even with the partition, there may be some noise at night, and I apologize in advance should that disturb you. If it's too much, I'll make an effort to use the rooms of others instead. And I'll likely be doing so half the time regardless. That's all, really. Any objections?" She paused, smirking as a thought struck her. "Of course, you could always join in, if you were so inclined."</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --The Rowdy Ruski-- When the ponytailed blonde entered one of the four studies of her spacious dorm, she'd find her roommate already kneeling in front of an opened crate, rummaging inside it, Schwarzritter floating near her in all of its T-shaped glory. "Hmmm?" Lucy paused what she's doing when she heard her name being called, the polymath stood up and faced her Russian counterpart. "Yes, Ms. Zhukova?" The silver-haired girl tilted her head a bit, wondering if there was something important enough to warrant interrupting her tidying up. Oh, boundaries, regulations, ja, she wholeheartedly approved. It'd only be convenient for everyone involved if they had clear rules to follow, thus eliminating any ambiguity as to whether something was or wasn't allowed plus the consequences should a violation occurred. Valeriya had Lucy's full attention now. Don't bother one another unless necessary, no problems there, in fact, that should be a given in fact. "I agree." She nodded, so far so good there. However, what came next confused the German prodigy a bit, at least Valeriya's wording made it so. If my deduction is correct... what Ms. Zhukova means is that she'll sometime invite students to this room, guests then? That sounded simple enough, half of the room was hers to do as she pleased anyway, but why did she have to specify about inviting them to her bed? Was it a Russian metaphor for socializing? Well, of course when two or more people are socializing, they'd be producing sounds, voices of conversations in addition to noises produced by whatever activity they'd be doing. "Worry not," Lucretia replied, fully confident that she perfectly understood what Valeriya meant, "One, I can simply cover my ears with sound-absorbent material should the need arise, and two, I'll be working on some of my projects in the study, particularly those that are small enough to not require a dedicated workshop, they'll certainly produce sounds. With these context in mind, I think we'll have no issues." She concluded. The petite girl would already be returning to her rummaging if not for Valeriya's final statement, in which its ironic tone completely flew over Lucy's head, "If it aligns with my interests, then I will participate." She then proceeded to nonchalantly return to kneeling down beside her crate, dainty fingers disappearing into the container. Landshark</s>	<\|message\|>Shou Zheng Thankfully Shou had no need to rely on the tram to arrive at his assigned dormitory at the end of the party. As Hana had promised, the drug's effects hadn't lingered for longer than enjoyable. Thanks had been given for her company, apologies for ruining her conversation, and promises to be fulfilled at a later date. Even if his mind was all cleared up and he knew exactly which tram he was supposed to take, the chance to stretch his legs and get some fresh air wasn't something he would skip. So while other students made themselves comfortable in the spacious and plush seats, Shou made himself a nuisance and climbed around like he had arboreal rather than aquatic features. The tour might have shown them the highlights Bermuda had to offer, but it was something else to get a bird's view of the man-made island. When he closed his eyes he could feel the ocean breeze against his skin and taste the salt-kissed air. It was almost enough for him to head down and take a swim, but the curfew was far too close for him to risk it. So he made his way towards the accommodations he had been assigned when he received his papers down by the docks this morning. Careful leaps and jumps carried him from one chimney to another, or similarly reinforced parts of the rooftops. He'd crashed through enough ceilings before to learn about avoiding the more flimsy sections. Thus the sturdy construction of his accommodations came as a welcome surprise. The many small windows that adorned the building slightly less so. It'd be a tight squeeze, but he could probably still slip his way out. A quick entry through one was probably right out though unless he planned on knocking out the entire window frame. While Bermuda's trams might have been smooth and efficient, there was something to be said about simply ignoring the streets and pathways and cutting one's own path. Even with the pauses to sight see, Shou landed with a heavy thud in the street before the trams. And just because he had gone under the influence once tonight did not mean he had to pass on the opportunity for some less fruity drinks. His belongings were not particularly numerous nor did they need to be unpacked immediately for any reason. All he had to do was freshen up before he retired for tonight. Thus when Kiran did arrive, he'd be met with Shou sitting in the tavern. Balancing his chair somewhat precariously as he munched away at a bratwurst while a mug of dark lager sat on the table before him.</s>
<\|description\|>Jeanne du Bordeaux 18\| Female \| 171cm \| 58kg France \| Technologist \| Energy Furnaces Their Story Energy! Movement! Everything was a form of energy in some way. Food stored energy the body can burn. Fire released energy from wood that it had stored while growing. Even such concepts of heat and cold were simply movements of energy. She found that it was easy to just burn down the flowers by simply attuning a furnace to spit fire from a controlled release valve. Even a lake filled with disgusting fishes was easily purged by simply venting a furnace into its depths. Ah but the people do not understand, and berated her over those. Even her peers shunned her, but that was of no matter for they were but children(literally). People said she mellowed over the years, and her mischiefs were no more. Fie, she would say. Twas not that she was mischievous, but that people simply did not see. Of course, she already had her eyes set upon a target. One that would set her name in stone, echoing throughout history. The sky that mocked them with its brilliance, that defied understanding. Were it not a bowl? A facade that kept them from whatever lies beyond? Was it the gate that held heaven from their grasp? If so, she would be the demon that would tear it down. She would be the one to kick down its doors, look upon the Maker upon his throne and thumb her nose at his Smugness. And what more appropriate to tear down Heaven, than Earth itself. If she was to install a gigantic furnace, and use Earth's very heart as its core, she was certain she could destroy the very veneer that held the skies together, and reveal the truth beyond. But for that, she needed money, man power and materials beyond her current reach, and that was when the Friends came in with open palms, ready to adorn her own with riches. --- Organization: Compagnie d'amis</s> <\|message\|>James Porter --- JAMES PORTER --- James continued through the hall, now more focused on trying to find his target. That little electrical stunt earlier made him wary of the people around him. He looked at all the jubilant faces around him, once again he found himself thinking, 'how nice it must be to be ignorant of the shadows around you.' He moved towards the infirmary, perhaps the shards of glass might've wounded his target. If she was there then it would be no problem. All he'd have to do is wait at the entrance. But with each passing moment, he was beginning to find interest in the people around him. There was that one questionable french woman from earlier, she was making quite the racket. Then there was that smooth talking Mughal and a tiny German girl. There were even people from the New World, Incas and the like. These were all people he saw before bumping into the one Miss Yun. But this diversity made it all the more difficult to find that one person he so desperately needed to fulfill his mission. To make matters worse, it seems more and more people were taking to dancing. 'Damn it, I really don't want to dance, not now. Where the hell is this damned target!?' Lost in his thoughts, he would not realize that in that moment, he would've reached the infirmary and have its doors slam into his face and sending his poor top hat flying once again. "OUCH!-" He quickly subdued his innermost rage and tried to react normally, picking his hat off the floor - again. "Could you please not swing the door like that willy-nilly good sir! That hurt quite a bit!" In that moment, James dignity and pride were hurt. Any other day - any other assignment this would've resulted in a beating, but not here. Not now.</s> <\|message\|>Shou Zheng --- Shou Zheng --- Shou had only just dropped his plate off with one of the servers when a sudden shout caught his attention. While not particularly defeaning with the size of the hall, there was a stark difference between the din of casual conversation and a cry of command. The size of the hall would have made finding the cause a bit difficult though if not for the unfurling of a German golem. He watched it form and ready itself with interest through narrowed eyes, and put the thought of food out of his mind for the moment. Instead of trying to slip his way through the students that were drawn to the commotion, Shou took advantage of the opera boxes that lined the second floor. A casual jump gave him enough height to reach the railings that lined each private area, but he did wince a bit as the metal bent underneath his grip. They probably would have crumpled under the impact if he tried to land on them. He turned his attention out towards the rest of the hall quickly though and squinted at the two figures next to the golem. Well, he could only see one of them given the floating construct's bulk, but his posture made it quite clear that there was another held in his arms. The attire narrowed down the possibilities, but without getting a look at the man's face it was hard for him to say who it was. The person being held was quite obviously the Konigsmahne's heir though. Her Schwarzritter could hardly be mistaken for anything else. "Pfft." He couldn't help it, and it's not like there was anyone else up here to hear Shou snort as he realized what had happened. From his perspective he could see the chandelier above with its missing bulb, and the red struck a nice contrast with the student's white clothes. Inti's little demonstration seemed to have done more than just flashbang a poor Egoist, but it was a bit odd. The bulbs weren't particular massive nor made of thick glass. Was he just unlucky or had the injury been planned to garner some sympathy? Hard to say with just a look from afar, and it seemed like the pair were quick to escape from prying eyes. A few moments later and the mess had already been cleaned up by some of the staff. From is vantage point, Shou took the opportunity to scout out the hall a bit further. The change in music seemed to have brought some students out to the dance floor, and it seemed that Inti was among them. No need to return to their table then. With that in mind, he took a moment to stretch his legs as he hopped from one empty box to another. When the next was finally occupied, he descended just as swiftly as he had taken to the second floor. His tail smacked against the floor as a brace after he hopped the railing again, and he smooth his clothes out as he stood. "Ah, hopefully that didn't startle you," he remarked to the blonde he found himself in front of as he bowed briefly. If she had been in any danger of being bowled over by him, Shou would have seen her beforehand he hopped down.</s>	<\|message\|>Jeanne du Bordeaux Jeanne looked a bit distracted before Shou came, her eyes staring at the sudden commotion by... one of the Germans it seemed. An iron golem, capable of tearing through everyone in this very room in just a blink of an eye. And yet not a single one of these cretins seemed alarmed by the show. Discreetly she started pulling out more buttons from her pockets, putting on on her hand where it disappeared up her sleeve. "Ah, hopefully that didn't startle you." For a moment, just for an instant, her hand full of buttons seemed to click, as a single burning blue light flickered within, turning its blue core straight at Shou, a burning pinprick that seemed to focus on him. The next instant however, it seemed as if that never happened, and as she raised that hand again, it was empty. "Non. But please make jumping in front of people less of a habit." Jeanne glanced towards the iron golem again, to find it has disappeared. "There are those with far less inhibition than me, Monsieur..." She paused, waiting for Shou to give his name.</s>
<\|description\|>Yun Hana 14 \| Female \| 156.4 cm \| 50.2 kg Korea \| Egoism \| Drug Factory Hana's past is something she keeps mostly to herself, although the picture she paints isn't one of any lineage of greatness nor that of singular genius. She's just one of many among her peers to get the nod for the academy. Her family was relatively well off, and tied to Korea's imperial government, working in Seoul. She's part of a fresh generation who is growing used to some of the conveniences of from foreign powers brought in after the Futile War. Her hometown was the first to benefit from electricity, after all. Influenced by the opening of Korea's borders 50 years ago, Hana's school of egoism has taken to experimenting with a technologist influence, leaning toward mad science, or adapting technologist principles to their own bodies. She adapted her body to enact a rather literal approach to internal alchemy: she's essentially turned herself into a living chemical plant. These sort of activities did catch the attention of the Ministry of Rites, mostly because it showed a marked break from well-established tradition. The implications of Hana's own approach didn't go unnoticed, either, and soon, she was encouraged to continue, under the auspices of a very small and specific branch of the ministry's diplomacy department. She seems to play up the "mysterious oriental" angle more than some, if only to entertain herself. Nothing quite like either confirming everyone's most bizarre misconceptions, or suggesting the reality's even stranger. Setting any ulterior motives aside, she's definitely excited to be here and see what everyone else is bringing to the table (and take careful notes, of course). Hana's tattoos take an artful form, spiraling away from a central core at her back to flow across the rest of her body, spiraling around her limbs like vines. Much of Hana's skin is smooth, hairless, and appears glistening with moisture, like some sort of amphibian's. Some patches even show bright color patterns reminiscent of poison dart frogs, notably along the back of her neck, and (blending in with the tattoos) her back. Some (or all) of her hair is also an unnatural color, and she dyes it black to remain inconspicuous. Hana's sweat and salivary glands have been extensively altered to help her emit the various substances she produces within her body. Her internal organs have also changed extensively; should one cut her open, they'd probably find all manner of strange, altered, or new bits. Hana can create chemicals in her body, and can apply them internally to herself, or emit them as a liquid or gas. While she is more agile than a normal person, most of her focus on her egoism is in developing new drugs to make or uses for the ones she can manufacture, and not on improving her sheer physicality. She can generate the following: A drug to temporarily enhance strength and reaction time. A chemical that accelerates healing by increasing cellular regeneration. A universal antidote that can stop the action of poisons or other drugs. Hallucinogens Neurotoxin Anesthetic Pheromones that arouse specific emotions --- Organization: Seocheon Flower Garden</s> <\|message\|>Valeriya Zhukova Valeriya Zhukova Kiran's eyes widened at Valeriya's forwardness, but certainly, there were less pleasant individuals to be accosted by than a Russian lady with lips that tasted of alcohol. The two students fell into the room a couple more steps before he found his footing. For a novelist celebrity nerd who tinkered with machinery, the Icelandic youth was well-built, the muscles of his back wonderfully solid beneath Valeriya's grip. A moment later, they broke off, his free hand pushing against her shoulder. "Had thought you were a more proper type," he said. "Nazca's forwardness inspired you?" Though he played it cool enough, there was nevertheless a little bit of red tinging the tips of his ears. Even through the rush of her teenage hormones, Valeriya retained enough presence of mind to notice Shou leaving them in peace. Good. It wouldn't help much if the situation did turn violent, but it'd give her enough of a head start, at least. "Oh, please." She scoffed as Kiran broke the kiss off. "I was like this on the ship, too. Now," Valeriya adjusted her grip, keeping Kiran's pocketed hand locked as she reached for his free hand with her other arm, shoving him against the wall and leaning in close as if to kiss him again. "This should be a good enough time to talk business." Valeriya kept her voice low enough to not be overheard should Shou stick around. "You noticed, then. What were you going to do about it?" She smiled. "What I'm to do now," Kiran grinned. He stepped in, lips pressing against Valeriya's again, before his foot tangled with her own and she found herself falling against the desk, right by the half-deconstructed tracker. "Is your interest personal or professional, Val?" "It can't be a bit of both?" She smiled coyly, seeming unbothered. "Our work is in largely the same field, after all. Why wouldn't I want to get to know a competitor better?" Screw it, enough suspense. Time to see what he was hiding. Valeriya yanked on Kiran's wrist, aiming to pull out whatever he was grabbing on to. At this point, she was actually half-hoping it was a weapon, just so they could get on with it already. "Shocking ambiguity for such a forward woman." Kiran didn't resist as Valeriya pulled his hand out of his pocket. The hand opened up to reveal an empty palm. Empty? Or was it something too small to see? "I'd be more willing to share my work if you'd simply asked, from one peer to another. But with all this…must say I'm feeling a bit greedy now." "If you'd wanted to sleep with me, all you had to do was ask, really. I would have penciled you in." Valeriya smirked, hooking her other foot around Kiran's leg before using her grip to flip him onto the nearby bed. "Still, if you're going to be difficult, I'm obliged to be so in return." She raised a hand, resting it on her bosom as the other reached into her pocket. "I'm only really interested in one of your Formulization blueprints, and not your most famous work. Name your price." The two bounced upon the mattress once, the springs creaking at the impact. Kiran ran his hand down a strand of Valeriya's hair. "My homeland is one of treacherous beauty and grand vistas, but what I've found lacking, always, is how small the land is." A pause, his gaze drifting down to Valeriya's own bosom, before he raised his eyes again. There was a fervent flame in his aquamarine irises, the 'spark' that possessed the gaze of all Polymaths. "I'm an adventurer, not a businessman, so…Unrestricted travel through the northern regions of the Tsardom. Can you arrange that?" The flame burned greedily in the fireplace. Voracious now, an undercurrent of the primitive violence that one needed to venture into the untamed places of the world. "And, if you are what I've figured you to be, would it be too much to ask of you to kill that French bitch?" Well. This was…a unique request. Her handlers wouldn't quite be pleased that she'd been practically made already, but if this achieved the mission parameters, so be it. Besides, unrestricted didn't mean unmonitored. The upside with letting a known foreigner into your territory was that you knew he was there, and could take measures appropriately in case he tried something. Besides, Agnarsson was a known traveler, so there was always the small chance this could just be innocuous. Still, this was something Valeriya figured she could swing by her superiors. "I can speak to some friends within the border guard, certainly." Valeriya smiled thinly, moving to unbutton Kiran's shirt. "As for the Frenchwoman, I'm an engineer, not an assassin." She lied without blinking. "As much as she annoys me too, I'm not about to do something that blatant." Not unless she was ordered to, anyway. "Now, if you'll hand over the blueprints, we can move on to the actual fun part." "And I'm sure you're not a spy either, Miss Engineer of War." Kiran winked, tapping his index finger against his temple. "I'll draw out my designs for you after, if you don't mind. Otherwise, the fire may burn out before we even begin." "I'm in the Tsar's pocket, certainly, but not in that way." Valeriya pouted and denied the accusation. "But, fine." She leaned in, moving to kiss Kiran again. For the rest of the night, not much was said. Shou certainly was going to have something to talk about later.</s> <\|message\|>Franz Steiner @Click This@Yankee@banjoanjo@Medili --- The dinner party continued as normal. Franz paid full attention to Bang and Nazca's presentations. However, he spent little time thinking about the possibilities they opened up. There was no point in pondering problems he had neither the information or care to solve. The truth of Jeanne's innocence was not a matter Franz cared for at all. But it was still important to be viewed in a light where that was the case, so he would continue eating while feigning a captivated interest. Once Inti had finished, Franz reached for a napkin and politely cleaned around his mouth before addressing Bang and Nazca with a pleasant smile. "You two have certainly made a lot of progress for this investigation. It must be quite time consuming, no? I think it is a noble act to suspend your academic goals in the pursuit of justice. With only a short amount of time, we have not a second to lose of course." Franz turned to Jeanne. "As for my contribution Jeanne, I implore you to mark out the student record as requested by tonight so I may receive it by mail tomorrow morning. My investigation skill pales in comparison to what Bang and Nazca have demonstrated, but I am good with people. That registry will let me know exactly who's door to knock on." Returning to his meal, Franz didn't talk much about the investigation for the rest of the night. Instead, he spent the time with inconsequential small talk until it was time for him to depart back to his accommodations. --- Franz had no plans to skip curfew. After all he had no method to pass by the locking system effectively. Even if such a thing was in his possession, he had no reason to skip curfew. Franz settled for a bit of violin practice before going to bed and getting a good night's sleep. ---</s> <\|message\|>Higashiakemi Ryuuko --- @Click This@Yankee@banjoanjo@Jumbus Ryuuko listened to the others talk while finishing up with her meal. Information were exchanged, some new and some were confirmations of what she already knew. Good progress were definitely made in this first day that marked the start of their investigation. Things remained inconclusive, and a defense still needed to be made... But they still have two more days for that. And besides, there was still time yet to do more today, even in the lateness of night. It was something that Ryuuko had been considering to do depending on what information were discovered by the team. "Alright then. I have an idea of something to do to possibly get us even closer to nailing this thing." Ryuuko grinned wide while pushing her eyeglasses up by the bridge of it with the middle finger of her right hand. "It's pretty obvious, but what the heck I'll state it nonetheless. As we all know, that Robespierre kid's prosecution focus is on making out this whole thing as if it's the fact that Jeanne's the only one that's guilty about what happened. So, we really need to bag this manbat person or at least find more evidences of their involvement with the incidence, thus allowing us to call bull on that kid's primary point of argument." She paused a bit as she considered her next statements. "Now, we also know that this manbat themselves claimed that they're an opportunist... Yes, we don't know exactly what they meant by that, but I feel that we might as well do a gambit by baiting this opportunist with an, well, opportunity. A bait that they will hopefully take. That is to say... I'm going to break the curfew tonight and see if the manbat will show up again or not." "Now, of course, this doesn't necessarily mean there will be a fight or some other such... dramatic happening. To that end, I'm wondering if any of you have an audio recording device that I can borrow. Nazca maybe?" She looked at the Abya Yalan girl as she spoke so, continuing "If not, then even just a camera will do. Anyways, in the end, the point is to collect potential evidences to build our defense... So I am open if anyone have more ideas of what I should do or bring with me while I'm out breaking the curfew. To make the most out of it and such. Or hey... Maybe any of you would like to accompany me on this endeavor? Haha." Ryuuko then sipped on some drink as she finished speaking. However, she soon spoke up again after remembering a certain thing that she had forgotten to mention. "Ah, right. One more thing." She turned to look at Jeanne, giving the Frenchwomen a friendly smile as she addressed her directly "Jeanne, I'd like to ask you to please stay put for tonight. After all, we need to keep you out of trouble for the sake of us all. Surely you understand, yes?"</s>	<\|message\|>Yun Hana Hana Yun Hana returned to her room as the evening wore on. It would be good to investigate the island by night, as doubtless several of her fellow polymaths had already, but she was in no hurry to do so. Jeanne's alleged activities of the previous evening didn't have her particularly excited to explore without full preparations. And besides, she had a few things to do during a night in. The first, was calling after one Angelo Beloco. The second, while she was at it, would be getting in touch with Mr. Porter. If he was interested in a collaboration, it was worth arranging things with him, as well. So it was that, some time after dinner, she sat down next to her telephone to ask the operator to connect her. Hopefully, nobody was otherwise engaged at the time.</s>
<\|description\|>James Porter 18 \| Male \| 5'7" \| 149 lbs Empire of Britannia \| Dynamicism \| Chemical Assassin Their Story Kidnapped at the age of 7, James was trained in her Majesty's new Military Intelligence project codenamed: "Good Little Deeds". There he was taught to speak multiple languages, handle firearms, and become one of the brightest minds among Britannia's citizens. His original purpose was to infiltrate into foreign nations and gather intelligence and conduct sabotage missions. However, he had a particular talent for brewing poisonous gaseous solutions. This talent was deadly when paired with his use of Dynamicist formulations. At first, his potent poisons were simple and needed a lot of setup before they could be deployed without risk of towards himself. That was of course until he studied a little bit of Technologism. His major talent still lied within his fine dynamic control, however, altering the specifics of his poisons with Technologistic formulations were key to his continued success. His missions from the day of his recruitment to his current assignment have been his life. He has no childhood, no parents that he can remember (or cares to remember), and no real friends. However, he still has many of his years ahead of him and life can change in a hearbeat, his story has only yet begun. --- Organization: Institute of Good Little Deeds</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --British Invasion-- "...?" Suddenly for the second time that night, Lucretia was ambushed with absolutely no warning, first by shards of transparent glass and now by a strange white-haired Abya Yalan girl who spoke with a distinctly British accent. Lucy's green eyes blinked a few times, her protocol-directed mind taken unprepared, scrambling to make sense of the abrupt development of the situation, a situation that she abhorred to be in. Indeed, perhaps Shou's recommendation for her to improve her reaction time had merits after all... However, right now, she had to do something. Her brows frowned and the corner of her right eye twitched in frustrated annoyance at the intruder's blatant disrespect of her plans. Right now, the offender's identity, appearance, ethnicity, bearings, and everything else didn't matter in the slightest to the Iron Princess, she could be the Empress of Britannia and it wouldn't erase the fact that she just committed the greatest sin, disrupting her plans. Those shards of glass weren't sentient, they had no motivations to speak of, merely following the whims of gravity, unlike this... this brown-skinned Arschgeige! Lucy's pale lips quivered, her teeth gritting, then just as she was about to open her mouth to hurl some very demeaning authoritative words, Kalil managed to sidestep the trespasser and addressed her directly. The Indian prodigy could swear he heard Lucy sighing like a machine blowing off excess steam as the shorter paler white-haired girl took his dance invitation without a single fuss, genuinely not caring if it seemed rushed and walked with him to the dance floor. Finally, finally she could fulfill her promise and all was right again in the world. @Click This --A Home Away from Home-- Thus the ball ended and despite a few hiccups along the way, the event concluded satisfyingly for most students - save for a certain English polymath perhaps - including Lucretia as she closed the curtains via a dance with Kalil, amateurish it might be, she enjoyed it. Now, it was time to board the trams and retreat to their assigned dorms. The one assigned to her was honestly just fine, a faux medieval castle implemented with all the amenities that the modern age could offer. It was a fine abode for someone of her stature, although Lucy wasn't exactly a snob in terms of demands, the fact that a noble's way of life was all that she knew meant it was her standard, something to be expected, but fortunately for any would-be hosts out there, anything less would simply mean it was an inferior lodging as far as Lucy was concerned, nothing more. The petite silver-haired girl was indubitably dwarfed by the room's sheer scale, even if one would only consider half of it to belong to her, but she was used to such space, whether in the Konigsmahne's manor or her personal workshop. In fact, checking the studies was literally the first thing she did after entering the room, beelining there without delay, not even sparing her Russian roommate so much as a greeting. Twas' of utmost importance as she had specifically ordered for her WIP projects and associated materials to be delivered to her dorm's study. Hmmm... everything seemed to be in order, but there wasn't a way to be sure without opening these containers. "Schwarzritter, aktiviere." She ordered for the drone to unfurl itself to its full size then began ordering it to move the crates around, unstacking them neatly so she could open them and examine its contents. Of course, whether Valeriya cared for such things or not, this task would leave Lucy quite occupied and the Engineer of War would find no ice-breaking conversations from her 'roommate', although the latter half of the word could be debated. Landshark</s> <\|message\|>Valeriya Zhukova Valeriya Zhukova Well, if nothing else, the end of the ball had been a splendid diversion. Valeriya was more than certain she'd cemented herself in the minds of more than a few boys and girls among her peers. Perfect if she ever required connections for one issue or another. Or if she just wanted a different bedmate for a night. Not that the two were separate, of course. Her assigned quarters were...interesting, to say the least. Of all the possible options, a British-style castle wouldn't have been at the top of her list for a place to live. Still, she couldn't complain. It certainly beat her quarters back when she'd been in training at the Ministry. Valeriya's roommate was even more of an unexpected occurrence. What were the odds that she'd be sharing her quarters with one of the more notable students of the lot? And an utter brick wall in social terms, at that? Still, like with the quarters itself, she supposed it could be worse. Lucretia didn't seem inclined to be the first one to speak, so Valeriya supposed she'd have to be the one to start setting ground rules. The Russian hadn't brought too much luggage with her. Well, most of her materials and prototypes were already shipped to Bermuda's armory. So all she really had to unpack were clothes and the tools of her trade. Once those were squared away, she decided it was high time to make some attempt at socializing with the German. At least she had a better handle on the girl's personality, now. "Lucretia," Valeriya approached from across the room. "I thought it best if we establish some boundaries considering we'll be dorming together. I doubt we'll have many issues most of the time. I won't bother you, you won't bother me, though feel free to if you wish. At night, though..." She paused, thinking of how best to phrase this to a thirteen-year old before deciding to simply be blunt. "Occasionally, I may invite other students into the dormitory and into my bed. Even with the partition, there may be some noise at night, and I apologize in advance should that disturb you. If it's too much, I'll make an effort to use the rooms of others instead. And I'll likely be doing so half the time regardless. That's all, really. Any objections?" She paused, smirking as a thought struck her. "Of course, you could always join in, if you were so inclined."</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --The Rowdy Ruski-- When the ponytailed blonde entered one of the four studies of her spacious dorm, she'd find her roommate already kneeling in front of an opened crate, rummaging inside it, Schwarzritter floating near her in all of its T-shaped glory. "Hmmm?" Lucy paused what she's doing when she heard her name being called, the polymath stood up and faced her Russian counterpart. "Yes, Ms. Zhukova?" The silver-haired girl tilted her head a bit, wondering if there was something important enough to warrant interrupting her tidying up. Oh, boundaries, regulations, ja, she wholeheartedly approved. It'd only be convenient for everyone involved if they had clear rules to follow, thus eliminating any ambiguity as to whether something was or wasn't allowed plus the consequences should a violation occurred. Valeriya had Lucy's full attention now. Don't bother one another unless necessary, no problems there, in fact, that should be a given in fact. "I agree." She nodded, so far so good there. However, what came next confused the German prodigy a bit, at least Valeriya's wording made it so. If my deduction is correct... what Ms. Zhukova means is that she'll sometime invite students to this room, guests then? That sounded simple enough, half of the room was hers to do as she pleased anyway, but why did she have to specify about inviting them to her bed? Was it a Russian metaphor for socializing? Well, of course when two or more people are socializing, they'd be producing sounds, voices of conversations in addition to noises produced by whatever activity they'd be doing. "Worry not," Lucretia replied, fully confident that she perfectly understood what Valeriya meant, "One, I can simply cover my ears with sound-absorbent material should the need arise, and two, I'll be working on some of my projects in the study, particularly those that are small enough to not require a dedicated workshop, they'll certainly produce sounds. With these context in mind, I think we'll have no issues." She concluded. The petite girl would already be returning to her rummaging if not for Valeriya's final statement, in which its ironic tone completely flew over Lucy's head, "If it aligns with my interests, then I will participate." She then proceeded to nonchalantly return to kneeling down beside her crate, dainty fingers disappearing into the container. Landshark</s> <\|message\|>Shou Zheng Shou Zheng --- Thankfully Shou had no need to rely on the tram to arrive at his assigned dormitory at the end of the party. As Hana had promised, the drug's effects hadn't lingered for longer than enjoyable. Thanks had been given for her company, apologies for ruining her conversation, and promises to be fulfilled at a later date. Even if his mind was all cleared up and he knew exactly which tram he was supposed to take, the chance to stretch his legs and get some fresh air wasn't something he would skip. So while other students made themselves comfortable in the spacious and plush seats, Shou made himself a nuisance and climbed around like he had arboreal rather than aquatic features. The tour might have shown them the highlights Bermuda had to offer, but it was something else to get a bird's view of the man-made island. When he closed his eyes he could feel the ocean breeze against his skin and taste the salt-kissed air. It was almost enough for him to head down and take a swim, but the curfew was far too close for him to risk it. So he made his way towards the accommodations he had been assigned when he received his papers down by the docks this morning. Careful leaps and jumps carried him from one chimney to another, or similarly reinforced parts of the rooftops. He'd crashed through enough ceilings before to learn about avoiding the more flimsy sections. Thus the sturdy construction of his accommodations came as a welcome surprise. The many small windows that adorned the building slightly less so. It'd be a tight squeeze, but he could probably still slip his way out. A quick entry through one was probably right out though unless he planned on knocking out the entire window frame. While Bermuda's trams might have been smooth and efficient, there was something to be said about simply ignoring the streets and pathways and cutting one's own path. Even with the pauses to sight see, Shou landed with a heavy thud in the street before the trams. And just because he had gone under the influence once tonight did not mean he had to pass on the opportunity for some less fruity drinks. His belongings were not particularly numerous nor did they need to be unpacked immediately for any reason. All he had to do was freshen up before he retired for tonight. Thus when Kiran did arrive, he'd be met with Shou sitting in the tavern. Balancing his chair somewhat precariously as he munched away at a bratwurst while a mug of dark lager sat on the table before him.</s> <\|message\|>Valeriya Zhukova Valeriya Zhukova Did...did Lucretia not understand what she meant? Valeriya blinked in mild surprise as the German girl seemed to not understand what she was getting at. After a moment, she decided to just go with it. Forget it, then. If Lucretia didn't know what she was talking about it, it wasn't her problem. She'd learn about the birds and the bees eventually. Now that she was done unpacking, though, there wasn't quite much to do for the rest of the night besides sleep, was there? There was the option of breaking curfew to start scouting around the campus at night and get the lay of the land, but two factors told Valeriya that would be a poor idea, at least for tonight. First, there was a good chance that the staff would be far more vigilant on the first few nights, before routine and lack of excitement set in. There was little point in not patiently waiting for a better window in which to sneak out. Second, all that dancing earlier in the evening had worn her out somewhat. Valeriya was in very good physical shape, as befitting a trained spy, but dancing was still a good amount of exertion. No, if she were caught or if something untoward happened, it was too much of a risk, as tired as she was. So with a mental shrug, she started pulling out some more comfortable clothing to sleep in from her just-unpacked garments, briefly glancing over to check on what the German girl on the other side of the room was doing.</s>	<\|message\|>James Porter James took a moment to let everything settle down. He was still slightly reeling from the drugs in his system. He found the entire place simply exquisite, but it was more spacious than what he was comfortable with. On top of that, he had a roommate, this complicated things. He had already missed a golden opportunity to find his target, now he had to deal with a person looking over his shoulders every time he were to do something. 'This situation is a pain in the ass' he thought. However, instead of dwelling on complications, he simply wanted to recover from tonight's exciting events. The student he was to have as his roommate shared many physical similarities. If one were to see them together, it'd be certain that they'd ask if one was related to the other. The only dead giveaway that they weren't are the orient features that his roommate had. James paced the rooms for a little before stopping to glance at his roommate. "It seems we're stuck together for the time being..." James' tone was a little harsher than he wanted it to sound. If he were to be honest with himself, a little frustrated at how everything turned out and it seemed to be leaking into his speech. James turned to face him properly and continued, attempting to remedy his tone with a smile, "... Introductions are in order I suppose, James Porter. Chemist and Dynamicist, and you are?"</s>
<\|description\|>James Porter 18 \| Male \| 5'7" \| 149 lbs Empire of Britannia \| Dynamicism \| Chemical Assassin Their Story Kidnapped at the age of 7, James was trained in her Majesty's new Military Intelligence project codenamed: "Good Little Deeds". There he was taught to speak multiple languages, handle firearms, and become one of the brightest minds among Britannia's citizens. His original purpose was to infiltrate into foreign nations and gather intelligence and conduct sabotage missions. However, he had a particular talent for brewing poisonous gaseous solutions. This talent was deadly when paired with his use of Dynamicist formulations. At first, his potent poisons were simple and needed a lot of setup before they could be deployed without risk of towards himself. That was of course until he studied a little bit of Technologism. His major talent still lied within his fine dynamic control, however, altering the specifics of his poisons with Technologistic formulations were key to his continued success. His missions from the day of his recruitment to his current assignment have been his life. He has no childhood, no parents that he can remember (or cares to remember), and no real friends. However, he still has many of his years ahead of him and life can change in a hearbeat, his story has only yet begun. --- Organization: Institute of Good Little Deeds</s> <\|message\|>Age \| Gender \| Height \| Weight EE 87, May 6 \| Morning The dust settled, and the ashes did too. As the sun crested over the horizon, the mist around Bermuda dispersed, melting away from the heat and leaving only a sticky dampness behind. Within an hour or two, even that residue to fade, until the picture of an island shrouded in fog disappeared completely. Only memories of the night before persisted now. Memories, and the remnants of wreckage left by the intrepid and the foolish. The crater left upon the beach, and the shattered lamppost on the adjacent street. The smell of burnt flesh, and the clockwork birds laying lifelessly on the ground. The destruction of a storefront, and the bullets scattered over the streets. Were strange things happening, or were stupid kids just acting out, now that no government oversight was there to remind them of how to behave in polite society? No one knew for certain, and indeed, as morning cracked and the adults got to work, so too did Bermuda's police force, judiciously cordoning off these incidents. The newspaper, of course, remained aware regardless, and soon enough, copies of the Bermuda Triangle began to pop up around the city, enjoyed with a cup of coffee in a quaint little café or read in bed with a warm croissant. News, of course, still featured the Ottoman Empire's civil war front and center. With Polymaths recalled to the capital or having found positions of leadership within the rebellion, it had now become a sight of international interest in seeing how modern warfare looked. Nothing substantial could be confirmed yet, but certainly, there were plenty of stories, from mechanized castles laying close-quarters siege on each other to armored infantry possessing state-of-the-art steamcannons and piledrivers to, of course, the Egoists squads that murdered them by the dozens. On more curious notes were stories of how some curfew breakers ended up amnesiac the day after. While only one such individual, a Mr. F, served as the account for this curious situation, it was nevertheless interesting. Was there something in the air out in the open seas? Certainly, there were more than a couple instances where transient global amnesia could set in, and in a world as unfinished as this, there were plenty of local legends out there as well that may have grains of truth connecting to this strange affliction. No peer-reviewed studies have been released, but more than a couple clubs had expressed interest in this as well. And who could simply neglect the increased incidences of property damage over the night before? While none had been so extreme as Jeanne's immolation of a library, a bar had been broken into and the street littered with bullet holes. Had a student gotten fully shitfaced? And what of those clockwork drones littering an area blackened by flame? One could easily recall the illustrious Nazca Whitehall as both a craftswoman of clockworks and as one who had volunteered to supervise Jeanne from the day before? Had there been an altercation? Multiple altercations? The truth was muddled, however, known only by those intimately involved… @Vega7285 What were friends for, if not to help with dodging hospital fees? It had taken time, but the natural regeneration of an Egoist was a powerful one, and even if Shou had been almost completely wiped out the night before from his self-flagellation and the strange creature in the fog, by the time his pains started to rouse him, he was strong once more. Or well, strong enough to limp through the streets before curfew ended at least. It was fortunate that he had managed to get Hana's address one way or the other before any of this happened, as she was likely the only one that he knew and trusted now. His fried nerves still tingled, the warming of the air only rousing the many burns that covered his body. Every salty breeze brought a sting that reminded him of the blackness that caressed him the night before, and his left still ached from the effort it took to launch himself out from the beach in a single bound. But so long as he lived, he would continue to walk. The dragon's path was filled with obstacles, but death was the only insurmountable one. Blood tracked up the stairs through the Incan-style apartments, yet Shou, in his fatigued, pained, yet still alert state of mind, would notice that his wasn't the only blood painting the white-washed floor. There had been another injury here. To be shelved for later though. Curfew ended, a faint electric buzz racing through his body, and the Egoist alerted Hana to his presence in whichever way he was accustomed. This@Medili@banjoanjo Pain. Pain and confusion. What exactly happened? Why was she like this? It hurt to breathe, and her whole body felt feverish, sensitive to the bandages that wrapped all around her. This was not her room. The smell of burnt flesh filled her nose with every breath, or was it that her nose itself was burnt? And her hair…there was something all too light about how her head felt, as if a weight that she was used to was suddenly removed. With great effort, Nazca brought her body up, and as she did so, the bed itself moved up to match her efforts, propping her to a sitting position. This…this was a hospital. For all of Ryuuko's incessant worrying and Bang's own knowledge of first aid, neither of the Egoists were Polymaths who had dabbled in medicinal arts. There was no point for Egoists to do so, after all. Ryuuko wasn't a true martial Egoist, but she could shrug off most encounters with motorized vehicles, while Bang's specialization was regeneration and literally nothing else. The best they could do while Jeanne slept without a care in the world, was to rip linen off the curtains, sanitize it best they could, and try to bind up Nazca's many injuries. And in the morning? With Jeanne dragged alongside them, they hurried Nazca to the closest hospital in the city, surprising the morning staff and having her immediately treated for her burns. Ointments and salves now coated her from head to toe, and her condition had stabilized enough that there was no risk of death and low risk of infection. Perhaps in a month, Nazca would be as good as new. But that didn't stop the nurses from whispering, of how that hellfire witch had already roasted one of those who were meant to guard her. Didn't stop Ryuuko and Bang from expressing their concern. Didn't stop Jeanne from sitting in a corner of the hospital room, reading through a small notepad as if none of this affected or was even tangentially related to her. The question remained. What happened to her last night? And could she even trust those who now stood before her? @Psyker Landshark By all intents and purposes, Valeriya was successful. No violence was needed to get what she wanted, and Kiran was a fairly good partner in bed, possessing that ever-so-winning combination of a pretty face and a toned body. Both of them were experienced, and while much of their elopement was transactional, it didn't meant that it was necessarily unenjoyable either. More importantly, her cousin would be happy to hear from her after so long, and she ought to be looking forward to his response in the next couple of days too. Indeed, with libido satisfied, mission completed, and a couple days of freedom to enjoy, the world was quite literally Valeriya's oyster. She could hit up that Egoist again about testing out the limits of her Technologist designs, pursue Kiran more professionally about a possible alcohol enterprise, or maybe even enjoy the city itself and sample the local cuisine! There was an atelier that might have her name on it, or maybe a couple of unburnt publications to study up on. For an enterprising young woman such as herself, it would be a tragedy if she spent the day solely indoors. So she opened the door and, collapsing to the side of it was a familiar face. Lucretia, the princess of the Konigsmahne. Hair stuck to her face, and clothing still possessing of a dampness that didn't look to be from fog alone. Schwarzritter loomed behind, a silent, unmoving guardian, but the floating half-ring wasn't anywhere close to large enough to obscure its mistress from the glances of other residents of the castle-dormitory. And, just a couple beats later… "Aw fuck! Who broke the doors?"</s> <\|message\|>Valeriya Zhukova Valeriya Zhukova Having already dropped her letter and package into the mail chute the previous night, Valeriya went about her morning routine with no small amount of cheer. It was...mostly a successful night. She'd accomplished her assignment within just a few days of arriving on the island, and she'd gotten laid to boot. Kiran was definitely aware she was a spy now, but given his reaction to it, well, Valeriya had an inkling he wasn't just a novelist and engineer, either. So that left the day solely for her own interests. What to do...? Valeriya mused to herself as she finished getting dressed and started walking out the door...only to run straight into a bedraggled Lucretia. Well. She'd never returned last night, then, it seemed. One explanation later, Valeriya sighed to herself as she finished helping Lucretia dry up and into a fresh set of clothes. Hell. Another random assault on a student out past curfew, eh? Once was curious. Twice meant something was going on behind the scenes on this island. Damn it. It wasn't exactly her problem, but it was definitely something to look into. This meant...damn. The Frenchwoman was probably innocent, then. And framed. Fine. It seemed she'd have to get herself involved with the Jeanne nonsense for now, depsite how much more pleasant it would be for everyone else if she was dealt with on a more permanent basis. With a resigned sigh, Valeriya set out, looking to investigate exactly where Jeanne and her minders were today.</s> <\|message\|>LUCRETIA von KÖNIGSMÄHNE --Scheisse Morgen-- "...?!" Like a spooked kitten, Lucretia slumped form jolted the moment Valeriya touched her, no need for the Russian Engineer to shake her roommate awake there for sure. A few seconds of deliriousness later, memories of what transpired last night came in waves; the Man-Bat Egoist individual must have carried her here, and since the entrances and windows were locked, he simply did the next best thing he could that didn't involve property damage. The white-haired Polymath hissed between clenched teeth, feeling aching pain all over her body, as if her muscles were on fire. Due to her current condition, she welcomed Valeriya's offer to help, even if it was something as simple as drying her mist-soaked body up and then preparing a fresh set of clothes while the younger girl showered to scrub off all of the salt, dirt, and grime away. Moments later, Lucy was all cleaned up, ready to begin her day. She still felt rather shitty, but the noblewoman was nothing but diligently ambitious and the myriad of events leading up to now merely burned her desire to get to the bottom of all this; she now had no doubts why Pax Occidenta sent her here, the academy was merely sugarcoating something sinister, something wrong with this island, and she'd be damned if she didn't uncover the truth. After having a proper breakfast, tinkered Schwarzritter, and finally dropping off the reprogrammed floating drone to be sent to Sukuro Jinga, she moved on with her day. First order of business? Find Herr Steiner and make him see reason, also inquiring him if he knew anything about whatever went on during the night, the source of that fog, and who in the name of Paracelsus was that bat Egoist?! So many questions needed answering and woe to those who'd deny Lucretia von Konigsmahne the answers she deserved.</s>	<\|message\|>James Porter Night turned to day, the brewing process was complete. An extra strong brew of so-called 'sleeping medicines'. Now it was time to send the meds off. But beforehand, he would construct a letter expressing the desire to meet. After writing the letter, he secured it to the vial he had of the sleeping serum. He then made preparations as per usual before heading out, this time with newspaper in hand. He was off to meet with Bunga, he knew however that she'd be quite disappointed with not having Bang in toe. However, with the news of last night's incidents, he had an inkling feeling of where they might be. "Off to the infirmary then..." He dusted the top of his hat and secured it attop his head and started to walk towards the agreed meeting place Bunga and James had agreed upon.</s>
<\|description\|>Oswald Pittman Oswald "Oz" or "Ozzy" Pittman, Gold Ranger Age: 17 DOB: March 26th, 2007 POB: San Antonio, Texas, United States Height: 6'2" Weight: 205 lbs Eyes: Green Theme: In a Nutshell Special Talents & Skills Savvy in Information Technology Graphic Design Low level hacking Mixed Martial Arts Scanned Lifeforms Gold Dragon Electric Eel Pistol Shrimp Powers & Abilities Gold Dragon Aura, feels warm and radiant with a slight electrical charge that would make ones hairs stand on end. Golden Lightening. Providing both offensive and defensive capabilities, Oz is able to emit golden lightening from his hands and even create and manipulate electromagnetic fields to create an instant, but short-lived, electro barrier. The limits to these electric abilities and their applications are currently unknown, but continue to develop with use. Short-Distance Teleportation. Ozzy is able to 'ride the lightening', moving from one location to another in a flash of light. However, he cannot teleport to places unknown without an absolute understanding of the layout. Therefore he typically limits teleporting to be within his line of sight. Overuse of this ability can cause major fatigue. Technology Influence. Through his understanding and command of electricity and technological systems, Ozzy can often interact with technology as if he could speak its language. Certain applications include his ability to deactivate alarms despite not knowing the code, bypassing internet securities despite not knowing the password, etc. His ability to do this presents itself more like an intuitive keystroke rather than a master/sentient slave relationship between him and the system he is trying to crack and it's success is not guaranteed. Explosive Burst. A gift from the pistol shrimp, if Oz punches his hands together, an explosive burst erupts out of the clash, sending a sonic pulse outward around his entire body. A great maneuver when outnumbered and being swallowed by a crowd of enemies or even just a perfect technique to invoke a stun. Weapons & Gear Gold Dragon Nanosuit Golden War Axe Dragon Zord Booster Mech Biography Oz was never one of the social elite. Despite coming from a father who was an All American Quarterback when he was in high school and a mother who was prom queen in her heyday, Oz was just an apple that happened to fall far from the tree. Whereas his father was a sports enthusiast and his mother was queen bee in her social circle, Oz's interests were far more virtual in nature. Ever since his parents introduced Oz to the internet, the young man would stare at the screen for hours absorbing knowledge and entertainment with every new click of the mouse. Unfortunately, this took a toll on his social skills and while he may be willing to talk to a small few trusted associates, he usually keeps to himself for the most part. To him, life in the real world just isn't as exciting as the life he lives through the screen. That is, until recently...</s> <\|message\|>Finley "Finn" Logan Finn had spent much of the night before baking brownies, cupcakes, and cookies for the bake sale he had planned today. You would never know that by looking at him. He still had plenty of energy, and was in a chipper mood. The bake sale was Finn's idea, but there were other members of the cheer squad present to assist. Most of them were on this trip for the extra credit, but Finn was here solely for the joy of sharing his creations with others. While on the bus, he sat next to a boy named Sa'cha. He was a new kid, and Finn had seen him around, but until today, they hadn't talked much. Finn was going to change that today. The two chatted on the bus, and by chatted, it was mostly Finn doing most of the talking. He was used to that. It was going quite well, until Skull and Bulk opened their mouths. Finn cringed the entire time Bulk and Skull were arguing. Finn wished those two didn't come on this trip. Finn didn't have it in him to actually hate anyone, but those two greatly reminded him of his childhood bullies. As bad as it sounded, he couldn't stand being in the same room with them for fear of doing something he might regret. So he avoided any interactions with them whenever possible. Finn didn't acknowledge their antics, and was grateful to Tommy for providing some kind of distraction from them. "Aww, leave her be Tommy." Finn replied. "If she does, she does, and if she doesn't she doesn't. You don't need to tease her about it." He then turned his attention back to Sa'cha, and smiled. "Anyway, I know some people on this trip aren't exactly here for charity… It isn't my place to judge them. Me? I'm here to share my sweet treats with people. I love baking! My mom, little sister and I would bake together when my mom was free. Sharing sweets is a great way to bond with people I think."</s> <\|message\|>Shelby Watkins Tommy had chuckled at Oz's comment about the dick-measuring contest, and then grinned when Finn and Sa'Cha insisted he stop teasing Shelby. "Yeah!" she nodded repeatedly, arms crossed. "You should stop teasing me!" "But you're too cute when you're embarrassed!" he replied playfully. "I am not embarrassed!" she insisted. "I have nothing to be embarrassed about!" "Relax, I'm just messing with you," the dark-haired boy said after another chortle, pulling her into a one-armed shoulder-to-shoulder hug and kissing her on the forehead. "I'll quit teasing you now, ya big crybaby." "Yeah, well you're a big jerk," she added, crossing her arms again and looking away, chin up. But then she turned back and grinned. "But you're lucky you're a cute jerk!" After Helia had inquired about the purpose of the day's event, Shelby was the first to reply. "There are so many awesome things going on at the Museum today!" she explained excitedly. "We're heading there to help out with a fundraiser to save the place from being closed down. And like Finn said, he made baked nummies!" "So, do you got any 'special' brownies in your stash, Finn?" Bulk asked quietly with a grin as his head popped back up over the seat. "What, you mean 'special' like my grandmother's cookies?" Skull inquired as he chewed the gum in his mouth loudly. Bulk just rolled his eyes. "No, you dolt," he replied, shaking his head. He leaned in and whispered in Skull's ear, after which the other boy's eyes grew wide. "Duuuuuude!" he said excitedly to Finn, a bit too loud. "If you got weed goodies, fork 'em over, twerp!" "Ixnay on the grasstalk!" Bulk barked angrily in a hushed tone when he noticed Miss Morgan glancing in their direction. The two punks then dropped back down and were quiet the rest of the drive. "Hey everyone!" Karone called out, holding up her phone, which had the Twitch app open. She then flashed a toothy smile. "Say hi to the chat! We have seven thousand people watching right now!" Shelby let out a squeal of protest and dropped down out of sight of the camera. "I really hate that girl..." _______________________________________ _______________________________________ _______________________________________ As the bus turned off the main highway, they could see the Museum at the other end of a winding road. There were dozens of vehicles finding their way into the parking lot, and quite a few tented stalls had been set up throughout the forested grounds surrounding the main building. As the students began exiting the vehicle once it had parked, the white box truck that had been following them pulled into the lot as well. The driver hopped out and slid open the back rolling door as Tommy and the others walked up to help unload the supplies for the event. "Hey guys, how was the ride?" the older man asked. He looked to be in his mid-to-late-forties, well-built, and covered in tattoos. Many of the teens thought he was the coolest teacher at Angel Grove High, and he had been a beloved local celebrity back when he was a student there in the nineties. "It was stellar, Mr. Oliver!" Karone replied happily before anyone else could. "I had over seven thousand viewers on my stream before Miss Morgan made me turn it off!" "That's… impressive!" he replied. "It totes is!" she agreed wholeheartedly while Shelby looked at the others and made a silent puking motion. Soon they were loading up their supplies - including Finn's baked goods - from the shelves and cabinets inside the truck onto carts and wheeling them to the row of tents that had been allotted to them. Before their stalls opened for business, the teen volunteers were taken on a quick tour of the facility, which included a restaurant called the Dino Bite Cafe. (the episode linked below also gives a good look at the Museum and Cafe)</s> <\|message\|>Finley "Finn" Logan Finn giggled at Shelby and Tommy's banter. Then Bulk and Skull had to go and ruin it… Without missing a beat, Finn replied with a smile on his face. "Well, all my treats are special. They're handmade with love and care! Also, please don't call me a twerp… That's not nice." He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Finn was also grateful to Miss Morgan for shutting those bullies down quick. When the bus finally arrived at the museum, Finn was one of the first to get off. First, he had helped to unload the supplies for the event. Particularly his baked goods, onto the carts, and wheeling them to the tents. Finn was excited to start, and he was not afraid to show it. He started bouncing up and down, waving his arms, and started to sing. All you have to do is take a cup of flour Add it to the mix Now just take a little something sweet, not sour A bit of salt, just a pinch Baking these treats is such a cinch Add a teaspoon of vanilla Add a little more, and you count to four, And you never get your fill of... Cupcakes! So sweet and tasty Cupcakes! Don't be too hasty Cupcakes! Cupcakes, cupcakes, CUPCAKES! He finished his little routine by doing a cartwheel. "Weee!" After that, he went to join the group that went on a tour of the facility.</s> <\|message\|>Sa'Cha Harroea Reverence the Cacophony... --- --- Finally, the bus pulled into the destination and not a moment too soon. Bulk and Skull were really wearing Sa'Cha's patience thin. One more outburst from them and he would've transformed them both into crickets for the remainder of the trip, no matter who saw him do it. Thankfully, the bus had halted movement and they all proceeded to exit the cramped space. There was a reason he didn't ride the bus to Angel Grove High. He didn't like cramped spaces and he didn't like awkward interactions, one reason he hadn't asked Finn out yet. He was scared. Not of rejection, but of what Finn would think of him. Slowly he exited the bus and watched as Finn performed his cheer about baked good. Why was he so cute? There was mention of a tour of the location before setup would take place. Finn seemed overly excited, while Sa'Cha needed a moment to collect his thoughts. Andrew suddenly hugged him from behind and smiled. "Now's your chance lover boy," he said as they watched Finn hurry towards the others as they prepared for the tour of the facility. "Later," Sa'Cha replied. "Besides, we should focus on the reason we are here Andrew." "The reason YOU are here is to ask Finn out and help with his bake sale. The reason I am here is to make sure you do exactly that. Now let operation 'Finn and Sa'Cha Sitting In A Tree' commence," Andrew nearly blurted out before stepping away from Sa'Cha who had a scowl on his face. "You'll thank me later." Sa'Cha grumbled and moved towards the rest of the group eager to hear what all needed to be said on the tour. He couldn't shake the odd feeling that had come over him as soon as they'd driven onto the land. It was odd and he felt it in the pit of his stomach. His head thumped like a soft hammer hitting wood. He pushed it to the back of his head as he looked around.</s>	<\|message\|>Oswald Pittman Ozzy was thankful to be off the bus, that was for sure. As soon as his feet hit the Earth, he stretched out, slow and exaggerated, like a cat. Soon supplies were unloaded and a tour commenced. As they passed the Dino Bite Cafe, Oz impulsively uttered, "Wow... It's like The Flintstones." He took a quick snapshot on his phone, evidence for the tale he would surely tell his parents once he returned home. Curiosity lead him toward the counter where he caught a glimpse of the menu and one particularly humongous dino-sized 'Bronto-Burger' that the was featured upon it. "Good lordy, I'd have to unhinge my jaw," he said out loud as he rubbed his chin in discomfort at the mere ponderance of eating that thing. "What the hell is 'a bowl of fries'?" he asked as he kept reading. "A bowl of fries?!" Eventually he turned back around to face the group and pointed back behind himself toward the counter. "If one of you can scarf that thing down, clean the fry bowl and not die, I'll pay for the meal," he said with a crooked grin as he issued the challenge.</s>
<\|description\|>Finley "Finn" Logan Finn The Pink Star Sapphire Dragon Ranger Age: 17 D.O.B: February 14th 2007 P.O.B: Newark, New Jersey, United States Height: 6'0" Weight: 180 lbs Hair: Blonde Eyes: Blue Voice: Kenton Duty Theme: Smile Smile Smile Special Talents and Skills Cheerleader Charisma (Charming, Friendly) Cooking Martial Arts training (Novice) Scanned Lifeforms Star Sapphire Dragon, Fairy, Unicorn Powers and Abilities Pink Dragonfire Aura Pink Dragonfire manipulation Photokinesis (Manipulation of visible light. Mainly used to project holograms, and turn invisible) Hard light constructs (Can create objects made of light. Most commonly, he makes arrows fired from his bow, as well as force fields.) Healing (Can heal wounds from his allies) Gear and weapons Pink Star Sapphire Dragon Nanosuit (Pretend it's a male body) Dragon Bow Dragon Zord Booster Mech Biography Despite what Finn would tell you, Finn did not have the happiest of childhoods. After Finn's little sister was born, the family started experiencing financial troubles after his father was laid off. The parents would often argue, and his father would often drown his sorrows with alcohol. Eventually, this would result in his parents divorcing. Finn lives with his mother and sister, and doesn't see his father too often. The two have a strained relationship. Things weren't any better at school either. Finn didn't really share many interests with other boys. He had more stereotypically feminine interests such as playing with Barbie dolls instead of Hot Wheels the otner boys were into. He was also a scrawny child, who wasn't all that interested in sports. As such he was often called a sissy by other boys and bullied constantly. His father not so subtly reaffirmed the same sentiment. Implying that living with his mother and sister was turning him into a girl. Finn would sometimes cry in his bedroom at night. Through all the drama, he tried to maintain a friendly upbeat demeanor in order to be a good example for his little sister. He had to care for her a lot when his parents were otherwise unavailable. Since he was the one that had to make dinner for the family, he developed an interest in cooking. At some point when he was about to start high school, Finn's mother announced that she would be moving to Los Angeles for a better paying job opportunity. For Finn, this was the opportunity of a lifetime. He could have a fresh start in a new town where people didn't know him. No longer would he be the bullying victim. He started working out, and found a sport he liked. Cheerleading. This resulted in him no longer being the scrawny little boy he once was. He was friendly and socialable, and quickly became popular on campus. At some point, Finn came out as gay. There wasn't as much drama as Finn had been expecting and everyone was supportive, but Finn hasn't told his dad yet… Currently, Finn attends Angel Grove High, and is the captain of the cheerleading squad. He's currently unsure what he wants to do after High School.</s> <\|message\|>Finley "Finn" Logan Finn had spent much of the night before baking brownies, cupcakes, and cookies for the bake sale he had planned today. You would never know that by looking at him. He still had plenty of energy, and was in a chipper mood. The bake sale was Finn's idea, but there were other members of the cheer squad present to assist. Most of them were on this trip for the extra credit, but Finn was here solely for the joy of sharing his creations with others. While on the bus, he sat next to a boy named Sa'cha. He was a new kid, and Finn had seen him around, but until today, they hadn't talked much. Finn was going to change that today. The two chatted on the bus, and by chatted, it was mostly Finn doing most of the talking. He was used to that. It was going quite well, until Skull and Bulk opened their mouths. Finn cringed the entire time Bulk and Skull were arguing. Finn wished those two didn't come on this trip. Finn didn't have it in him to actually hate anyone, but those two greatly reminded him of his childhood bullies. As bad as it sounded, he couldn't stand being in the same room with them for fear of doing something he might regret. So he avoided any interactions with them whenever possible. Finn didn't acknowledge their antics, and was grateful to Tommy for providing some kind of distraction from them. "Aww, leave her be Tommy." Finn replied. "If she does, she does, and if she doesn't she doesn't. You don't need to tease her about it." He then turned his attention back to Sa'cha, and smiled. "Anyway, I know some people on this trip aren't exactly here for charity… It isn't my place to judge them. Me? I'm here to share my sweet treats with people. I love baking! My mom, little sister and I would bake together when my mom was free. Sharing sweets is a great way to bond with people I think."</s> <\|message\|>Shelby Watkins Tommy had chuckled at Oz's comment about the dick-measuring contest, and then grinned when Finn and Sa'Cha insisted he stop teasing Shelby. "Yeah!" she nodded repeatedly, arms crossed. "You should stop teasing me!" "But you're too cute when you're embarrassed!" he replied playfully. "I am not embarrassed!" she insisted. "I have nothing to be embarrassed about!" "Relax, I'm just messing with you," the dark-haired boy said after another chortle, pulling her into a one-armed shoulder-to-shoulder hug and kissing her on the forehead. "I'll quit teasing you now, ya big crybaby." "Yeah, well you're a big jerk," she added, crossing her arms again and looking away, chin up. But then she turned back and grinned. "But you're lucky you're a cute jerk!" After Helia had inquired about the purpose of the day's event, Shelby was the first to reply. "There are so many awesome things going on at the Museum today!" she explained excitedly. "We're heading there to help out with a fundraiser to save the place from being closed down. And like Finn said, he made baked nummies!" "So, do you got any 'special' brownies in your stash, Finn?" Bulk asked quietly with a grin as his head popped back up over the seat. "What, you mean 'special' like my grandmother's cookies?" Skull inquired as he chewed the gum in his mouth loudly. Bulk just rolled his eyes. "No, you dolt," he replied, shaking his head. He leaned in and whispered in Skull's ear, after which the other boy's eyes grew wide. "Duuuuuude!" he said excitedly to Finn, a bit too loud. "If you got weed goodies, fork 'em over, twerp!" "Ixnay on the grasstalk!" Bulk barked angrily in a hushed tone when he noticed Miss Morgan glancing in their direction. The two punks then dropped back down and were quiet the rest of the drive. "Hey everyone!" Karone called out, holding up her phone, which had the Twitch app open. She then flashed a toothy smile. "Say hi to the chat! We have seven thousand people watching right now!" Shelby let out a squeal of protest and dropped down out of sight of the camera. "I really hate that girl..." _______________________________________ _______________________________________ _______________________________________ As the bus turned off the main highway, they could see the Museum at the other end of a winding road. There were dozens of vehicles finding their way into the parking lot, and quite a few tented stalls had been set up throughout the forested grounds surrounding the main building. As the students began exiting the vehicle once it had parked, the white box truck that had been following them pulled into the lot as well. The driver hopped out and slid open the back rolling door as Tommy and the others walked up to help unload the supplies for the event. "Hey guys, how was the ride?" the older man asked. He looked to be in his mid-to-late-forties, well-built, and covered in tattoos. Many of the teens thought he was the coolest teacher at Angel Grove High, and he had been a beloved local celebrity back when he was a student there in the nineties. "It was stellar, Mr. Oliver!" Karone replied happily before anyone else could. "I had over seven thousand viewers on my stream before Miss Morgan made me turn it off!" "That's… impressive!" he replied. "It totes is!" she agreed wholeheartedly while Shelby looked at the others and made a silent puking motion. Soon they were loading up their supplies - including Finn's baked goods - from the shelves and cabinets inside the truck onto carts and wheeling them to the row of tents that had been allotted to them. Before their stalls opened for business, the teen volunteers were taken on a quick tour of the facility, which included a restaurant called the Dino Bite Cafe. (the episode linked below also gives a good look at the Museum and Cafe)</s> <\|message\|>Finley "Finn" Logan Finn giggled at Shelby and Tommy's banter. Then Bulk and Skull had to go and ruin it… Without missing a beat, Finn replied with a smile on his face. "Well, all my treats are special. They're handmade with love and care! Also, please don't call me a twerp… That's not nice." He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Finn was also grateful to Miss Morgan for shutting those bullies down quick. When the bus finally arrived at the museum, Finn was one of the first to get off. First, he had helped to unload the supplies for the event. Particularly his baked goods, onto the carts, and wheeling them to the tents. Finn was excited to start, and he was not afraid to show it. He started bouncing up and down, waving his arms, and started to sing. All you have to do is take a cup of flour Add it to the mix Now just take a little something sweet, not sour A bit of salt, just a pinch Baking these treats is such a cinch Add a teaspoon of vanilla Add a little more, and you count to four, And you never get your fill of... Cupcakes! So sweet and tasty Cupcakes! Don't be too hasty Cupcakes! Cupcakes, cupcakes, CUPCAKES! He finished his little routine by doing a cartwheel. "Weee!" After that, he went to join the group that went on a tour of the facility.</s> <\|message\|>Sa'Cha Harroea Reverence the Cacophony... --- --- Finally, the bus pulled into the destination and not a moment too soon. Bulk and Skull were really wearing Sa'Cha's patience thin. One more outburst from them and he would've transformed them both into crickets for the remainder of the trip, no matter who saw him do it. Thankfully, the bus had halted movement and they all proceeded to exit the cramped space. There was a reason he didn't ride the bus to Angel Grove High. He didn't like cramped spaces and he didn't like awkward interactions, one reason he hadn't asked Finn out yet. He was scared. Not of rejection, but of what Finn would think of him. Slowly he exited the bus and watched as Finn performed his cheer about baked good. Why was he so cute? There was mention of a tour of the location before setup would take place. Finn seemed overly excited, while Sa'Cha needed a moment to collect his thoughts. Andrew suddenly hugged him from behind and smiled. "Now's your chance lover boy," he said as they watched Finn hurry towards the others as they prepared for the tour of the facility. "Later," Sa'Cha replied. "Besides, we should focus on the reason we are here Andrew." "The reason YOU are here is to ask Finn out and help with his bake sale. The reason I am here is to make sure you do exactly that. Now let operation 'Finn and Sa'Cha Sitting In A Tree' commence," Andrew nearly blurted out before stepping away from Sa'Cha who had a scowl on his face. "You'll thank me later." Sa'Cha grumbled and moved towards the rest of the group eager to hear what all needed to be said on the tour. He couldn't shake the odd feeling that had come over him as soon as they'd driven onto the land. It was odd and he felt it in the pit of his stomach. His head thumped like a soft hammer hitting wood. He pushed it to the back of his head as he looked around.</s> <\|message\|>Oswald Pittman Ozzy was thankful to be off the bus, that was for sure. As soon as his feet hit the Earth, he stretched out, slow and exaggerated, like a cat. Soon supplies were unloaded and a tour commenced. As they passed the Dino Bite Cafe, Oz impulsively uttered, "Wow... It's like The Flintstones." He took a quick snapshot on his phone, evidence for the tale he would surely tell his parents once he returned home. Curiosity lead him toward the counter where he caught a glimpse of the menu and one particularly humongous dino-sized 'Bronto-Burger' that the was featured upon it. "Good lordy, I'd have to unhinge my jaw," he said out loud as he rubbed his chin in discomfort at the mere ponderance of eating that thing. "What the hell is 'a bowl of fries'?" he asked as he kept reading. "A bowl of fries?!" Eventually he turned back around to face the group and pointed back behind himself toward the counter. "If one of you can scarf that thing down, clean the fry bowl and not die, I'll pay for the meal," he said with a crooked grin as he issued the challenge.</s>	<\|message\|>Finley "Finn" Logan One of the first stops on the tour was the Dino Bite Cafe. It was a cute dinosaur themed restaurant. When they went in, Oz issued a challenge for whoever could finish an entire bowl of fries. Finn giggled and spoke to Tommy and Sa'cha who were next to him. "I could probably do it, but well… It wouldn't be healthy for me to be scarfing down cupcakes and fries all day." He flexed one of his biceps. "I'm a cheerleader, I worked hard to get this body. I can't afford to let myself go. Besides, I have a feeling someone else will take him up on that." He said with an eye towards Bulk and Skull.</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\|>Eris Cloverton Age: 24 Fae properties: Half fae, her gift is that she can communicate with animals Personality: Eris is empathetic, and generally kind hearted. She's an animal lover and loves to cook and garden. With a love for knowledge, she is also a bit of a bookworm. She can be a little impulsive though, and has a low tolerance for boredom. At times, she can be a bit headstrong but it's usually because of her passion. Bio: Eris' childhood was filled with wonder and excitement. She was blessed with a relatively minor gift that started showing when she was about just about a year old, as she had made friends with the family cat and the two were inseparable. It wasn't confirmed though, until she could really start talking a year and half later and by 5 her parents' had nicknamed her "Snow" after Snow White as she had more animal friends than human friends. She'd spend time outside in the yard talking to birds and squirrels, saying "hi" to the dogs that passed by with the owners walking them. As she got older, sometimes she would bring her animal friends home- much to her parents' concern and sometimes displeasure, as the critters ranged from field mice to garter snakes to birds of various kinds to a coyote, even one time. At school she befriended her class pets, but also many of the other children. She had one particular best friend who was her closest ally, but Eris was a social butterfly and easily got along with most people. She knew right away, by about the age of 10, that she wanted to be a veterinarian and she stuck with that all the way through school, and now she is living her dream.</s> <\|message\|>Eris Cloverton Eris Cloverton Bright and sunny, there was a gentle breeze flowing through the town of Arrow Oak. There was a very subtle chill in the air, the first traces of fall. Eris honestly couldn't picture better weather for today. She was packing the last of her supplies into her car, double checking to make sure she wasn't missing anything. It had been a while since she'd been camping, and she was excited to catch up with her friends. Once sure she wasn't missing anything, Eris started on her way to the campsite to meet the other's there. It was a bit of a drive, out of the town and into the surrounding woods. It wasn't too often anymore Eris got out of town. While she had a garden and many houseplants to satisfy her love for nature on a daily basis, it was extremely refreshing to be away from the town and fully immersed in the natural world. It was hard to explain, but there was just something about being out in the forest that felt so welcoming to her, like she was at home. She parked her car in the small parking lot near the trailheads, deciding she would wait there for her friends before venturing into the woods. Leaning against the trunk of her car, she sipped some tea from her thermos.</s> <\|message\|>Ella Rodericks (this is her human family name). Ella Rodericks Ella lay on the grass on top of a small hill, she was staring at the sun and watching fluffy clouds in the azure blye sky. Sheep, turtles, dragons, bunnies were floating by and they seemed to greet her. Today seemed to be a great day to have fun! The red-haired young woman stood up and looked at her silhouette she left behind in the flattened grass. "That was such a cosy spot to lay on", she thought and she smiled with gratitude. Then Ella picked up her small backpack and put it on. She carried her red backpack with her at all times. Ella looked into the distance and there she saw the forest she planned to be in a little while. Next to a nearby tree was her unlocked bicycle, Ella picked it up and hopped on it's sadle. She ringed the bell a few times and rode downwards off the hill towards the forest. Ella loved to whistle while bicycling and she would whistle to any bird she'd see. After a few minutes the hill was behind her and Ella was halfway to the forest already.</s> <\|message\|>Marabella Wulf Marabella Wulf Today was a beautiful day, and the first signs of fall were showing themselves. Bella stepped out her front door with some supplies in hand for camping and stopped on the porch. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath as the breeze caressed her face. Opening her eyes, she looked to her right and down at Killian, who had some supplies in his mouth. "This is a perfect day to go camping. Don't you think, Killian?" she asked the wolf-dog. Killian's tail wagged, and he gave a bark behind the supplies he was helping Bella carry. She smiled down at him before heading to her car and putting everything in the already opened trunk, then turned to Killian to take what he had and put it in the trunk also, but he ended up doing that himself. Jumping up and placing his front paws on the bumper, he dropped what he had into the trunk, then jumped down. "Thank you, my good boy." she cooed as she reached over and scratched his head. "Let's go get the rest and make sure we haven't forgotten anything." With a bark and a wag of his tail, Killian ran back to the front door with Bella behind him. She watched him disappear into the house with a smile on her face, only to see him reappear in the doorway a moment later, just before she could reach the first step of the porch. She stopped and laughed as she looked at him standing in the doorway with his tail wagging and his blue ball in his mouth. "We definitely can't forget that." she laughed. Making her way up the steps, she walked inside, scratching Killian's head as she slid by him. Once inside, she went to her bedroom and scanned it to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything she may need or wanted to take with her. Walking to the head of her bed, she grabbed the necklace that was hanging on the bedpost, then slid it over her head to rest around her neck. The necklace was a silver chain with an anchor of silver and gold, a silver and a gold feather, and a wolf made from Lapis. Bella then headed to the kitchen, grabbed her water bottle off the counter and Killian's little travel bag. Heading back to the living room, she stopped to scan the room for anything that hadn't made it to the car other than the cooler, her jacket, and Killian's harness. Walking over to the cooler, she sat her water bottle and Killian's travel bag on it, then grabbed his harness off a hook by the front door. As soon as he saw it, his tail wagged wildly, and he made his way over to her for her to put it on him. "That's my good boy." she said warmly as she knelt down. After getting his harness on, she stood, extended the handle on the cooler, grabbed her water bottle, her jacket off a hook by the front door, and headed back out to the car with Killian in tow. She opened the back door of her car, slid on her jacket, and put Killian's travel bag in the back seat and her water bottle in the cupholder up front, then put the cooler in the truck before closing it. Walking back to the back door, she closed it and walked to the driver's door. "Looks like that's everything." she said as she opened the driver's door. As soon as the door opened, Killian jumped in and made his way over to the passenger's side, and she laughed as she looked in. "Let me go lock up and we'll be ready to go." she told him. "I also hope you've done your business. It's a long drive there." Killian dropped his ball into the seat and gave a bark as Bella turned from the car and walked back to the house. Killian took this time to get out and do his thing before jumping back into the car and getting back into the passenger's seat. After locking up the house and getting back to the car, she started it and started the long drive to the campsite. It felt like it had been forever since she had been out of town. It felt great to get the chance to get back out into nature. Once she arrived, she parked her car next to Eris's car, killed the engine, and got out with Killian after attaching his leash to his harness. "Hey, Eris! Long time no see!" she greeted Eris warmly as she shoved her keys into her jacket pocket.</s> <\|message\|>Zephyr Deniel The chill in the air didn't bother Zephyr, a nice side effect of his gift. He had taken a few days off work for this trip. Normally he'd much rather use his time off to catch up on his massive backlog of video games he had to get through. But he never could say no to Eris and her desire for adventure, and as much as camping may not be his ideal vacation it would be nice to catch up Eris and the others. He had spent the day making sure he had everything he would need for roughing it in the woods. Most importantly was a self inflating air mattress, Zephyr had slept on the floor of a tent with only a sleeping bag before and never again would he subject himself to that. His back got a little sore just thinking of it. Once he was satisfied he had packed all the creature comforts he would need he got in his car and started a drive to the campsite, listening to an old favourite episode of a podcast he loved. He got to the spot and despite priding himself on being early to most things he found he was the third of four to get there. Oh well, at least he wasn't last. He got out of his car and stretched, despite not minding the long drive he still felt sore after sitting and basically not moving for a long while. "Heya girls, long time no see." he casually walked over to them, still stretching his arms over his head.</s>	<\|message\|>Eris Cloverton "Hey, Mara!" Eris greeted her friend, grinning. "And, of course, hi Killian." It had been a long time since she had seen either of them. Last time she could recall was at Killian's last vet appointment, so it definitely had been too long since they got to hang out. Eris had friends of all kinds but she always felt it was neat that she and Marabella were so similarly gifted. After all, anyone who was a friend to animals was a friend to Eris. "How have you guys been?" Opening up the trunk of her car, she looked through her things and pulled out a little bag. "Would Killian like a treat?" Eris always had some on hand. It wasn't too much longer before others showed up, which Eris was glad for because she was ready to get out deeper into the woods. "Zephyr!" She said excitedly, happy to see her best friend there. Though she knew that Zephyr wasn't too big on things like this but she also knew it wouldn't be the same without him there. "I'm so glad you came. I forgot my matches for the campfire." she joked, nudging her friend with her elbow. "Kidding. But seriously, I'm happy you're here. We don't get to hang out enough anymore." "So there are a few different paths we can take. I've only hiked one of them, a few months ago to get an idea of the area but that just means more opportunity for adventure." What fun would this be without a little adventure, right? Something about the forest always invoked Eris' curiosity and explorative nature. Where would the paths lead? What sights would be seen or plants or animals found? She just had to find out. One time, as a teen she'd hiked off trail letting nothing but the wildlife guide her. Animals knew where all the real treasures of the forest could be found, after all.</s>
<\|description\|>Marabella Wulf Appearance: Nickname: Mara, Bella, Wolfy (because of her love of wolves) Age: 24 Fae properties: Half Fae, she has the gift of animal companionship Personality: She is one of those that tends to wear her emotions on her sleeve. She is loyal to a fault to those she calls friends. Can be quite playful at times and is a big daydreamer. She is very adventurous and is almost always looking for a new adventure. Generous and kind to all those she meets. She is also one that's not easily angered. Bio: Marabella had a pretty wonderful childhood, she had two loving parents who did just about anything for her, a roof over her head, food in her belly, and a wolfdog named Killian for a best friend. She was about a year old when her gift came to reveal itself. It all started with her and Killian getting extremely close, then him becoming severely protective of her when it came to anyone but her parents getting close to her. As she got older, the bond between them grew and they became inseparable and always watched out for each other. It also became clear she had formed bonds with other animals, most of them being canines that would follow her home much to her parents' dislike and feared it a bit. Though Killian never allowed any to enter the house. Even Marabella had them stay outside, but they would linger around the house and come and go as they pleased. When she was ten years old, she lost her parents in a mysterious way. Not really ever figuring out what truly happened. She ended up going and living with her Aunt and Uncle who didn't live that far away, took her and Killian in with open arms and no questions, and raised her as their own. She was happy that she had a family to go to, but the loss of her parents took a toll on her and she ended up closing in on herself. She almost stopped talking to her Aunt and Uncle, but hardly talked to any other person. She mostly kept to herself and pretty much only kept the company of the animals she befriended, only having a few people as friends. Going through school proved to be a bit difficult for her. She ended up having to register Killian as an emotional support animal so she could keep him with her at all times. She was considered strange and a bit of an outcast since she hardly ever spoke to anyone other than those she trusted enough to become her friends. As time went on, she slowly came out of her shell and started to talk more until she was almost a completely different person, all thanks to her friends and Killian. Now out of school and an adult, she has found herself a job working at an animal rehabilitation center. Other: Killian</s> <\|message\|>Eris Cloverton Eris Cloverton Bright and sunny, there was a gentle breeze flowing through the town of Arrow Oak. There was a very subtle chill in the air, the first traces of fall. Eris honestly couldn't picture better weather for today. She was packing the last of her supplies into her car, double checking to make sure she wasn't missing anything. It had been a while since she'd been camping, and she was excited to catch up with her friends. Once sure she wasn't missing anything, Eris started on her way to the campsite to meet the other's there. It was a bit of a drive, out of the town and into the surrounding woods. It wasn't too often anymore Eris got out of town. While she had a garden and many houseplants to satisfy her love for nature on a daily basis, it was extremely refreshing to be away from the town and fully immersed in the natural world. It was hard to explain, but there was just something about being out in the forest that felt so welcoming to her, like she was at home. She parked her car in the small parking lot near the trailheads, deciding she would wait there for her friends before venturing into the woods. Leaning against the trunk of her car, she sipped some tea from her thermos.</s> <\|message\|>Ella Rodericks (this is her human family name). Ella Rodericks Ella lay on the grass on top of a small hill, she was staring at the sun and watching fluffy clouds in the azure blye sky. Sheep, turtles, dragons, bunnies were floating by and they seemed to greet her. Today seemed to be a great day to have fun! The red-haired young woman stood up and looked at her silhouette she left behind in the flattened grass. "That was such a cosy spot to lay on", she thought and she smiled with gratitude. Then Ella picked up her small backpack and put it on. She carried her red backpack with her at all times. Ella looked into the distance and there she saw the forest she planned to be in a little while. Next to a nearby tree was her unlocked bicycle, Ella picked it up and hopped on it's sadle. She ringed the bell a few times and rode downwards off the hill towards the forest. Ella loved to whistle while bicycling and she would whistle to any bird she'd see. After a few minutes the hill was behind her and Ella was halfway to the forest already.</s> <\|message\|>Marabella Wulf Marabella Wulf Today was a beautiful day, and the first signs of fall were showing themselves. Bella stepped out her front door with some supplies in hand for camping and stopped on the porch. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath as the breeze caressed her face. Opening her eyes, she looked to her right and down at Killian, who had some supplies in his mouth. "This is a perfect day to go camping. Don't you think, Killian?" she asked the wolf-dog. Killian's tail wagged, and he gave a bark behind the supplies he was helping Bella carry. She smiled down at him before heading to her car and putting everything in the already opened trunk, then turned to Killian to take what he had and put it in the trunk also, but he ended up doing that himself. Jumping up and placing his front paws on the bumper, he dropped what he had into the trunk, then jumped down. "Thank you, my good boy." she cooed as she reached over and scratched his head. "Let's go get the rest and make sure we haven't forgotten anything." With a bark and a wag of his tail, Killian ran back to the front door with Bella behind him. She watched him disappear into the house with a smile on her face, only to see him reappear in the doorway a moment later, just before she could reach the first step of the porch. She stopped and laughed as she looked at him standing in the doorway with his tail wagging and his blue ball in his mouth. "We definitely can't forget that." she laughed. Making her way up the steps, she walked inside, scratching Killian's head as she slid by him. Once inside, she went to her bedroom and scanned it to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything she may need or wanted to take with her. Walking to the head of her bed, she grabbed the necklace that was hanging on the bedpost, then slid it over her head to rest around her neck. The necklace was a silver chain with an anchor of silver and gold, a silver and a gold feather, and a wolf made from Lapis. Bella then headed to the kitchen, grabbed her water bottle off the counter and Killian's little travel bag. Heading back to the living room, she stopped to scan the room for anything that hadn't made it to the car other than the cooler, her jacket, and Killian's harness. Walking over to the cooler, she sat her water bottle and Killian's travel bag on it, then grabbed his harness off a hook by the front door. As soon as he saw it, his tail wagged wildly, and he made his way over to her for her to put it on him. "That's my good boy." she said warmly as she knelt down. After getting his harness on, she stood, extended the handle on the cooler, grabbed her water bottle, her jacket off a hook by the front door, and headed back out to the car with Killian in tow. She opened the back door of her car, slid on her jacket, and put Killian's travel bag in the back seat and her water bottle in the cupholder up front, then put the cooler in the truck before closing it. Walking back to the back door, she closed it and walked to the driver's door. "Looks like that's everything." she said as she opened the driver's door. As soon as the door opened, Killian jumped in and made his way over to the passenger's side, and she laughed as she looked in. "Let me go lock up and we'll be ready to go." she told him. "I also hope you've done your business. It's a long drive there." Killian dropped his ball into the seat and gave a bark as Bella turned from the car and walked back to the house. Killian took this time to get out and do his thing before jumping back into the car and getting back into the passenger's seat. After locking up the house and getting back to the car, she started it and started the long drive to the campsite. It felt like it had been forever since she had been out of town. It felt great to get the chance to get back out into nature. Once she arrived, she parked her car next to Eris's car, killed the engine, and got out with Killian after attaching his leash to his harness. "Hey, Eris! Long time no see!" she greeted Eris warmly as she shoved her keys into her jacket pocket.</s> <\|message\|>Zephyr Deniel The chill in the air didn't bother Zephyr, a nice side effect of his gift. He had taken a few days off work for this trip. Normally he'd much rather use his time off to catch up on his massive backlog of video games he had to get through. But he never could say no to Eris and her desire for adventure, and as much as camping may not be his ideal vacation it would be nice to catch up Eris and the others. He had spent the day making sure he had everything he would need for roughing it in the woods. Most importantly was a self inflating air mattress, Zephyr had slept on the floor of a tent with only a sleeping bag before and never again would he subject himself to that. His back got a little sore just thinking of it. Once he was satisfied he had packed all the creature comforts he would need he got in his car and started a drive to the campsite, listening to an old favourite episode of a podcast he loved. He got to the spot and despite priding himself on being early to most things he found he was the third of four to get there. Oh well, at least he wasn't last. He got out of his car and stretched, despite not minding the long drive he still felt sore after sitting and basically not moving for a long while. "Heya girls, long time no see." he casually walked over to them, still stretching his arms over his head.</s> <\|message\|>Eris Cloverton Eris Cloverton "Hey, Mara!" Eris greeted her friend, grinning. "And, of course, hi Killian." It had been a long time since she had seen either of them. Last time she could recall was at Killian's last vet appointment, so it definitely had been too long since they got to hang out. Eris had friends of all kinds but she always felt it was neat that she and Marabella were so similarly gifted. After all, anyone who was a friend to animals was a friend to Eris. "How have you guys been?" Opening up the trunk of her car, she looked through her things and pulled out a little bag. "Would Killian like a treat?" Eris always had some on hand. It wasn't too much longer before others showed up, which Eris was glad for because she was ready to get out deeper into the woods. "Zephyr!" She said excitedly, happy to see her best friend there. Though she knew that Zephyr wasn't too big on things like this but she also knew it wouldn't be the same without him there. "I'm so glad you came. I forgot my matches for the campfire." she joked, nudging her friend with her elbow. "Kidding. But seriously, I'm happy you're here. We don't get to hang out enough anymore." "So there are a few different paths we can take. I've only hiked one of them, a few months ago to get an idea of the area but that just means more opportunity for adventure." What fun would this be without a little adventure, right? Something about the forest always invoked Eris' curiosity and explorative nature. Where would the paths lead? What sights would be seen or plants or animals found? She just had to find out. One time, as a teen she'd hiked off trail letting nothing but the wildlife guide her. Animals knew where all the real treasures of the forest could be found, after all.</s>	<\|message\|>Marabella Wulf Bella smiled warmly at Eris as she greeted her and Killian in return. It even made her smile more as she used one of her nicknames instead of calling her by her full name. It felt like it had been ages since she had last seen her, which was Killian's last vet appointment. She and Killian made their way to the back of the car, and she shrugged at Eris's question. "Eh, we've been alright. Nothing too much to complain about." she said with a small laugh. They both watched as Eris made her way to her truck and pulled out a small bag, then Bella laughed at her question and looked down at Killian. Killian barked in response as his tail was wagging wildly and his tongue hung out of his mouth happily. "What a question to ask." she laughed. "This guy would eat treats all day if I let him." Killian made his way over to Eris and sat down in front of her with his tail still wagging as he looked up at her. Bella then leaned herself against the trunk of her car with her arms crossed over her chest as she watched Eris and Killian as they waited for the others. When she heard a car approach, she looked up and watched as the car came and parked. A warm smile came to her lips as she saw who stepped out of the car and stretched before greeting them. She listened as Eris spoke to him first and couldn't help the laugh that escaped her at the joke she threw out. "Hey Zephyr!" she greeted in return. "Glad you could join us." She really was glad that he could join them, even though she knew he wasn't big on things like this. Not to mention, it wouldn't be the same if they all weren't there together. When Zephyr made it to them, Killian turned his attention away from Eris and to Zephyr. Killian gave a small whine and nudged Zephyr's leg with his nose as a greeting, his tail still wagging happily. As Eris spoke about different paths they could take, a look of thought overtook Bella's features. She had no problem taking a path that was less traveled, but that could be because she loved to be out in nature and go where it led her most of the time. "You know me, I'm always up for a good adventure." she said, the excitement showing in her tone and a sparkle in her eyes. "So, you pretty much know what my vote is for. And if we end up getting lost, it's not like we don't have a way of asking for directions." she added the last bit with a laugh and smirk. Bella then reached over and gave Killian a scratch behind his right ear before looking back at Eris and Zephyr to see what path they would want to take.</s>
<\|description\|>Olivia Jay Hero Name: The Punisher Age: 28 Gender: Female Family: Olivia was disowned when she turned 18 and thus does not have a proper family anymore. While they are still in contact with their siblings, Olivia has distanced herself from every facet of her former life. Jessica Jameson - Sister John Jameson - Brother Occupation: Olivia is currently employed by a local coffee shop and moonlights as a stand-up comedian. While she would love to be full-time with the latter, the insurance offered by the former is too good to pass up. Appearance: Olivia has never really stood out in a crowd, standing at a comfortable height of five feet seven inches tall and with a lithe frame hidden beneath layers of clothes. Her hair is an organized mess, and it is always one color or the next and cut short in one area and long in others. She maintains three tattoos, all hidden beneath her sleeves. While she is new to her super-powered status, Olivia has used her skills with Cosplay to get a rudimentary costume created. At its core, it's a simple combination of clothes that she had bought but never wears. A simple pair of high-waisted black jeans rest overtop of a pair of fashionable, yet durable, boots that make up the base of the ensemble. She wears a tight but thin, black hoody underneath a rose pattern leather jacket that zips up to the midpart of her neck. The hood is always up and hides the face underneath while the bottom of the hoodie is tucked neatly into the pants. She wears a custom-made LED mask on her face with two preset selections for the lights. The first is the one that she likes the most, and it simply illuminates the face with a laughing look. The second option turns that smile right side up and reveals a frown. She calls her current outfit Comedy and Tragedy. Superpower: Gift of gab Olivias power stems from her voice. She has not had a lot of time to explore it, but she has learned enough to know the basics of how to use it. Her words can carry suggestions. Some weak, and some much more powerful. These suggestions can compel people to do something that she is thinking of. She can drive someone to adopt an animal from a kill shelter, buy her dinner, and even step in front of traffic if she so desires. While she has not had the amplest time to explore this further, she is confident enough with it. Her most potent suggestions are moved by her jokes. These jokes are often puns or a simple play on words. The more simple the joke, the more restrained the effects. A simple one can cause even the most seasoned henchmen to groan in disgust, throw up their hands, and walk away from the scene. An elaborate joke, however, can cause henchmen to turn on their leader. From what she has explored, this power is something that has to be engaged to work. She can have whole conversations with people without compelling someone. As soon as she thinks about the desired outcome, however, the words will affect those targeted by them. Skills: Mean cup of joe: As a barista, Olivia is very well versed in making a decent cup of coffee. Whether this is actually making a cup from good beans or not, most of her creations shall be tasty enough. Jokester: Olivia has always been one who wants to lighten the mood. As such, she is quick with her jokes and even quicker to raise the spirits of her friends. Invisible to most: As someone who wishes to never be perceived, she has found a way to achieve that by blending in with most crowds. Whether with a simple hat and pair of sunglasses or more, she can make herself invisible. Personality: Olivia has experienced her life up to this point as one baptism by fire after the next. From her confusing childhood, self-actualization, disownment by her family to the crushing realization that society as a whole would rather see her as a statistic than being herself, Olivia has seen and overcome all the trauma that has been thrown her way. This has come at a cost. Slow to trust and even slower to embrace strangers as friends, Olivia constantly keeps her distance from others. Olivia often seeks to isolate herself from the world for days on end when her mental health dips. She does not like to burden others with her burdens. As such, she will almost always pretend to be this happy-go-lucky person. She will wear these mental masks and keep her true self hidden from most, if not all. To her close friends, Olivia will always be their loudest supporter and most fierce protector. Biography: Disowned by her family at the age of eighteen, Olivia does not talk about her formative years. Since that date, she has bounced from college to working a dead-end job, back to college, and back to another dead-end job. While Olivia has struggled to keep herself afloat, she has survived and has recently started to thrive. Throughout the years, she has always had a fascination with the heroes of the world, and she wished they could do more than just fight the overt villains. That was until she discovered her power a week ago. It was a simple night like most others. She was at a friend's house discussing an upcoming stand-up appearance she was going to make. Her friend dangled a carrot for a pun, and Olivia pounced on the easy joke. Yet her voice felt different as she spoke, and it felt more powerful. As the joke left her mouth, her friend's eyes fogged over for a brief second before they returned to normal. Her friend let out the biggest groan Olivia had ever heard, got up, and left their own apartment, all the while muttering about how awful it was. Olivia, of course, followed her friend, trying to calm them down. After a few minutes, their friends' eyes once again fogged over. As the clarity returned back to their eyes a moment later, they gasped. The panic in their eyes alerted Olivia to the fact that something strange had happened. After a few more mistakes with her power and the realization that she could compel people with her words, Olivia took it upon herself to simply shut up. All of that was the result of a stupid play on words with a specific electric pokemon name. As the days turned into the first week with her power, Olivia realized that she still had much to learn. All the same, she feels an obligation to the world to be one of its new heroes. Anything Else: (Stuff not covered by the above sections that you'd like to include or not)</s> <\|message\|>Robin Buschell Robin Robin's mind worked quickly, as the blasts began to form in Thundercloud's hands. A quick glance around demonstrated that Robin was no longer alone. Who were these people? New heroes, hopefully. He hadn't seen them arrive, having been focused on Thundercloud. He took a moment to chastise himself. It would've been bad if one of these people had come to Thundercloud's aid, and here, Robin didn't notice they came. Seeing that the blasts were aimed not just at him, but those around him, Robin immediately threw his talismans at the ground in front of himself and the other people. Where the talismans landed, a flash indicated a barrier, transparent like a window, appeared. Robin didn't know how strong the blast was, but he didn't think the barriers would last long. As he heard someone shout "I really hope none of you are with him," he immediately turned to pick up the woman behind him (inadvertently, and subconsciously, resorting to a princess carry,) and flew to get out of the way in case the barrier failed. He landed a short distance away, and put the woman back down. Producing more talismans, Robin returned his gaze to Thundercloud. "You dare mock the sacred incantations of the Onmyouji?!" Robin said, as his attention shifted slightly to the henchmen who were running in after the blast. He decided to focus on the Storm Troopers, knowing that Thundercloud on his own was a match for him at this current time, and possibly the others here. "If you're all here to help, I suggest we try to isolate Thundercloud! He's the biggest threat in every way possible, but I don't think we can easily deal with him if he has backup!" Robin threw Talismans at the henchmen rushing in, the small bursts from the paper exploding against their body armor. The armor was relatively unscathed, but one of the henchmen wearing it was sent down to the ground. The man was dazed, and would certainly have trouble getting up after feeling what felt like a dropkick to the chest. Robin took off again, holding Talismans in his hands as he floated in the air.</s> <\|message\|>Sarah Locke Nobody Thundercloud responded to the attack, which seemed to wake him up and get him excited. As he barked orders to his underling, Sarah's avatar peeked around the desk to watch and listen. 'The truck! That must be the getaway vehicle. If I can stop that, Thundercloud's plans are toast.' She identified the truck as the underling approached it. She crawled out further and began to focus, hoping to make it hers. But her heart stopped as she realized that the big man had also caught a glimpse of her. The two locked eyes for an instant as Thundercloud started charging and firing off his electric blasts. A large one sped towards Nobody, threatening to overwhelm and destroy her. A "No!" rang out in a scared, girlish voice from the vicinity of the mannequin. Just before she was destroyed, a barrier of light went up and protected her. On impact the shield crackled and eventually shattered in a small explosion. "Thank… you…" the puppet said in shock. But she came back to and started focusing again. She had been given enough time to work, and she wasn't going to waste it. The mannequin fell limp on the ground. Across the lobby, a thug had just started the truck and was mashing the gas, but to no avail. "Damn thing doesn't wanna work." The thug leaned out the door and said "Hey boss the truck is acting weird." Just then, the vehicle lurched, knocking him from inside. The door seemed to close on its own. It locked itself and the truck went into reverse, jerking backwards and accelerating unexpectedly. THUMP. THUMP. Two of the thugs had just been hit and rolled over by the huge machine. The truck came to a stop, and Sarah threw her new toy into drive. It started moving again, this time back towards the others and the front exit. She hoped she would be able to hit Thundercloud on the way out, but even if she was only able to get the car out of the building, it would ruin the villain's plan. The truck squealed as it gained speed, it's headlights blaring towards its target: the big man in the grey suit. Sarah thought it was a good move. If he destroyed the truck with a lightning burst, it would have a good chance of destroying the money as well. If he didn't evade well enough, he might be at the mercy of her fellow heroes. ' "Fellow heroes", huh? Sarah liked the sound of that. She might have smiled, if she had a mouth.</s>	<\|message\|>Olivia Jay Olivia INTERACTIONSROBIN "Did he just," Olivia paused her thought as she floated through the air. "He did; he just picked me up," she continued. As she found her feet on the ground once more, she turned towards the man who had carried her away. "Could you be any more cliche Tuxedo Mask?" She shouted. In her mind, she pushed her power to compel the man to apologize, yet it did not affect him all the same. Twice she had used her powers on those who had one, and twice they had failed. Olivia knew she had stepped into the unknown when she walked through those doors. Oh, how quickly things have spiraled from there. Her powers don't work on powered individuals, she was princess-carried away from danger, and the villain was much more dangerous than the stories foretold. Was she cut out for this? Could she be a hero? These thoughts clouded her mind again, but she knew she could not dwell on them for long. Once again, she pushed them back and walled them away from her conscious thought. She would deal with them later. This "Mamoru Chiba" like individual did spur an idea. She did not need to fight Thundercloud herself when she could compel his soldiers to do it for her. In an instant, her feet carried her towards the henchmen who had started to fill the lobby. She did her best to keep out of sight, darting from pillar to pillar. Her mind raced with an idea or two; she needed the perfect joke for this. She watched as the paper talisman impacted the first henchman through the door, forcing him off of his feet. Olivia stopped a few meters away and came face to face with a pair of Stormtroopers. Her mind blanked for just a second at sight. "So your boss is kinda a big deal round here, eh?" She delivered the joke, using her hands to make the shape of a rather bulky circle around her stomach area. She compelled the two troopers to turn and fight off their comrades. She watched intensely as their eyes fogged over, making them her thrall. "Pun Patrol, you know what to do," she finished her command as she dove for cover behind a pillar. The two Stormtroopers slowly turned and faced their former comrades. "Is it me, or has the boss been a little rough around the edges today?" The first Stormtrooper asked, rubbing his belly as he did, as he raised his weapon with the other hand, opening fire. Though usually, the sound of gunfire would be painfully evident, it was matched slightly by the squealing sounds of tires on the tile floor. Olivia turned her head to catch the sight of an unmanned truck barreling its way towards the villain with a thunderous roar. "What in the ever-loving-" Olivia paused as she pondered if this too was another hero. She had never seen a truck hero before, but who was she to judge that particular power. Her head tilted and a smug grin spread across her face. She turned her attention towards the villain, waiting to see what he would do next.</s>
<\|description\|>Kane Grimwolfe (Actually Spencer Flowers) Hero Name: MidKnight Age: 27 Gender: Male Family: Jordon Flowers [Father], Mary Ann Flowers [Mother], Agatha Flowers [Sister] Occupation: Cashier at a head shop Appearance: Kane stands fairly tall at 6'4" (193cm), typically wears dark clothes spanning grayscale colors with black being the most prevalent. He likes to wear chains and silver jewelry (never gold). His hair is dark and long, falling past his shoulders. He's not keen on full beards, but is known to let a little scruff grow and will often wear eyeliner. Despite no longer being an athlete, he keeps a pretty fit physique. Superpower: Sparkly Rainbows. Not exclusively, but that's how his abilities manifested. Kane Grimwolfe, Edgelord Supreme, can emit sparkly rainbows out of his palms. Were a scientist to study Kane's abilities, they would conclude that Kane has the innate ability to bend light to his will. Were Kane to become more advanced in his powers, he might discover that he can force light to cloak him, rendering him almost invisible. He might discover how to focus light in an offensive manner in the form of a laser beam. But today, at this moment, the hero known (by virtually no one) as MidKnight can make sparkly rainbows. Skills: Kane is well versed in body language, usually able to read between the lines when interacting with people. He is also an avid reader and is quite intelligent about an assortment of subjects. Despite how he looks, he grew up with a family that loved to camp and hunt, which left him with honed survival skills as well as a fair sense of marksmanship. Equipment: Smartphone, makeup compact, handcuffs, light armored vest with enough durability to stop small arms fire, but not much else. Personality: Sarcastic, super dorky, intelligent, easy going and hard to rattle - Kane may be slow to open up to people, but once you get passed his walls, he's usually good company. Despite his gothic persona, there is a happy-go-lucky kid living inside of him. He is just slow to let that kid out. Biography: Spencer Flowers was born into a picturesque family. His mother doted upon him, his sister loved playing board games with him and his father would often take him out camping and hunting. He loved sports growing up, and even took a few lessons in karate. He was a great student and an excellent athlete. Then came the day that he'll never forget. His mother and father sat he and his sister down and disclosed to them that life was about to change. His parents explained how sometimes people can fall out of love and that their father would be moving out. His parents reassured he and his sister that it was no one's fault and that their love for their children would never go away. Regardless, Spencer felt broken. He was tired of pretending to be the picture perfect family. He started dressing in monochrome, he dropped out of all his sports activities and he became introverted. Soon some like-minded lost souls that hovered outside of the typical social circles took him in. They introduced him to new, more intense music, updated his wardrobe with a more gothic tone, and even gave him a new name to match his new persona. Kane Grimwolfe was born. Kane finished high school, but skipped college. He jumped from retail job to retail job, never giving any of them his full effort. Each one was a means to an end: he needed a paycheck, they needed a cashier. Then one day things changed. The meteor hit. He immediately felt the affects on his body. His skin tingled, but he couldn't figure out what to do about it. He recalled the history of the fallen heroes of the past that had succumbed to the virus and couldn't shake the feeling that he might share a sort kinship with them, for better or worse. Out of desperation, he decided the only way to activate the power within was to put himself in a distressful situation. He used the bulk of his paycheck to buy a Kevlar vest and some handcuffs before setting out into the night to catch some hoodlum for a petty crime - nothing too serious, just something to get his feet wet. He found his target in the form of a mugger who was trying to rob a person at the ATM with a knife to their back. Kane bit his lip, pointed his palms, and shouted out with all of his might... That's when it happened. Rainbows shot from his palms and hit the mugger in the face, blinding him, if only momentarily. Shocked and confused, Kane made the most of the distraction and kicked the mugger to the ground, apprehended the knife, and locked the cuffs on the crook before alerting the police. Since then, Kane has been trying to figure out what it all means, what these powers are for and how he could properly utilize them.</s> <\|message\|>Sarah Locke Nobody Sarah was disappointed when the villain ably reacted, shutting down her machine's power in an instant and eventually bringing the vehicle to a stop. The headlights went dark as the electronics all ceased to function. For a moment the truck seemed to drag itself forward, in spite of the lack of power, and even in spite of itself. It crept a few feet closer to Thundercloud, before stopping again. Sarah felt a strange and new sensation - a sort of burning and pressure that made her feel like veins were going to pop because of the effort. 'Ugh... this is too hard. I've gotta find another way.' Nobody looked around the room for a new method, but nothing jumped out at her immediately. Thundercloud was proving to be extremely powerful. It was all the young heroes could do to stay on their feet! 'What beats lightning in the comics? It must be... rubber...' Sarah hatched a plan and started putting it into action. The lug nuts of the front left wheel began to turn under her ghostly influence. It wasn't long before the distinct ringing sound of metal was heard as they fell to the hard floor of the lobby. At that time her opponent was summoning up more power and blasting lightning all over the place, blowing out the windows of the building. She wasn't a direct target, but some of the arcs slapped against the truck as they passed and shattered all its glass as well. The truck lurched again, this time leaning over as its tire popped off and began rolling around. The heroine had made it her new body. First it circled back behind the truck and made its way around the room, gaining speed - before flying back at Thundercloud with enormous momentum. It was a heavy duty tire, which would be difficult to deal with even if it didn't have such a high velocity. Sarah planned to bowl him over with it!</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Jay Olivia "Oh shit," Olivia screamed as she pulled her body entirely behind the pillar. Behind her, the electric attack smashed into the concrete. Parts exploded outward, sending dust and debris flying. The thunderous roar of the electric strike overwhelmed Olivia's senses for a brief moment, bringing her back to the reality of the situation. She pressed herself harder against the pillar as another strike came in, letting out a small yelp as she did. Her thralls had been dispatched by the thunderous strikes of their former master. The villain had acted quickly to regain control of the chaos and had started to show off his incredible power. "How can we win," Olivia thought to herself as she peered from behind cover. She watched as one conjured a pair of large rods and as Tuxedo Mask spoke to a cat. The truck hero had been stopped in its tracks by a single gesture from the villain. "Where did the cat come from?" Olivia pulled herself back. Had she lost her mind? Why was there a random cat amid a super-powered brawl? Had she finally snapped and lost control of her mind? "Breath, me, breathe," she whispered as she once pressed her weight further into the collum. Olivia knew this was not the time to have a breakdown. Another blast of electricity came, digging through the tile floor, forcing her knees into her chest in an instant. Another explosion struck close by, causing Olivia to pull them even deeper instinctually. "What can I control, what can I control," she repeated to herself. Maybe she could try to use her power on the villain again? No, she quickly shook that thought away as she knew that her ability did not work on heroes and villains. While she could try, all the same, this was not the time for that. She did know her powers were effective on the henchmen, and she peered around the corner once more and took in their situation. That had opened fire on another hero, pinning the so-called "Midknight" down. There were still quite a few of the henchmen left. She had never tried to use her powers on more than a person, or two, at a time. What would happen if she tried it on them all? Pushing against the pillar, Olivia slid up and found her feet underneath herself. Another breath in, and out, and in again as she cleared her mind. What if she did allow a quick experiment of her power? "Do I even have a joke?" Olivia focused every ounce of strength she had available into her power. In her mind, the situation played out. She would compel the troopers to drop their weapons and give themself up to the authorities outside. Their focus was on the Midknight individual, and they shouldn't be able to react to her. Safe, no bullet holes, and another batch of villains turned over to the authorities. That would allow the rest of the heroes to focus their attention squarely on the main attraction. While she was unsure how this attempt would play out, she knew she needed to try something different. And she did have the perfect joke to compel a group of rabble-rousers. She pushed off from the pillar, took a step to the side, and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Hey! What do you call a group of rude criminals going down a flight of stairs?" She focused hard on her intended effect as she spoke, hitting a mental block as she did. The more power she forced in, the more she tried to compel the group, the less she could think. Her mind blanked entirely in that instant. As a panic set in, she skipped a breath or two as her mind became barren of all thoughts. The few ideas she had were to compel them to do something, anything even, but nothing specific came to mind. The power welled in her mind, not fully released, and nobody compelled. Until, from nowhere, she finished her joke. "Condescending cons descending," she finished as she compelled the troopers to go outside and fight the cops. As her thoughts returned, a look of horror befell her face as she realized what she had just commanded these troopers to do. She watched as their eyes quickly fogged over and returned to normal. The troopers themselves took off in an instant, guns drawn, as they headed through the broken door and already shattered windows to the streets outside. "No, no no no, that not what I-" she whispered trying to fix her mistake before they got too far away. But she caught sight of a singular tire speeding around the lobby before taking off towards the villain. A singular laugh escaped her lips, before a second, and soon enough a cascade of laughter started. "I have lost my mind." Olivia finished the thought as the sound of gunfire erupted, and the battle commenced.</s>	<\|message\|>Kane Grimwolfe (Actually Spencer Flowers) Lafayette Financial Tower - Lobby "Emo," Kane scoffed as he flipped his hair out of his eye to get better aim. He then paused for a moment to consider how that must've looked... Something between a grunt and an abrupt growl rolled out of his throat as the disappointment in himself set in. That's when the first of the hechmen's barrel's lit up, followed by another and yet another still. Bullets exploded forth with a trajectory destined for Kane's midsection. He didn't move, however. Didn't even flinch. Kane knew what would happened next. He was invincible. As expected, the bullets collided against some invisible force field just in front of him. Kane's mouth curled into a smug grin. These idiots clearly didn't know who they were messing with. As thoughts of his own badassery swam in his head, Kane's eyes slowly drifted to the ground. That's when he saw them: the talismans. His eyes immediately shot back up and over to Robin with a look of renewed awe. I'm not invincible, Kane begrudgingly realized as his heart began to race a little faster. It's him. Him and his magic Post-Its.. As mayhem continued to erupt around him, Kane was left wondering what to do next. That's when he saw the freckled woman mount an ethereal looking spear into the ground. After a split second, the purpose clicked. He knew exactly what she was trying to do. Kane made a dash for her location, covering himself with a wild spray of bullets toward the storm troopers, intent on riddling their legs with holes. He wasn't going to be able to rely on Post It protection forever, he realized. A passive defense against the lightening would be best, if effective. "Hi there," he said smoothly to the young woman before turning to face the action once more. The wind was displacing some of the raindrops that were flowing in through the shattered windows. Kane had to squint to see through the watery debris. "This," he shouted through the sound of electricity and rainfall as he pointed at the rod in the ground. "Good idea!" Despite talking to her, his eyes were roaming elsewhere, trying to analyze the entire scene around them. There, over yonder, was the fast chick that manage to get a few hits in on the big man. She would be useful for an assortment of applications. And just over there was the woman who always tried to lighten the mood with a joke. The storm troopers never seemed to appreciate them, though, but they always gave her a pass after she delivered. Kane still wasn't sure what to make of that. He scanned the room again to locate the rest of the rag tag team. Just off to the side, Post It guy arguing with his pet cat, but he had lost sight of the shadowy looking woma- Wait... "Is that a fucking talking cat?!" he shouted out toward Mr. Post It. He then looked back to the freckled woman beside him. "You see that? Is that a fucking talking cat?!" Kane blinked a few times, as if doing so would make the cat disappear and set the world right again. He finally had to just shake his head and put a pin in that little source of wild confusion. Just then the rogue tire made its frontal assault. "I don't..." Kane let out a huff. "I don't even have the words." He then traded glances between Freckles, Miss Speedy and the energy rods. "Are those safe to touch?" He finally asked. He hoped so. He would love to see that Lightning Pig stuck with a fork at super sonic speed.</s>
<\|description\|>The Black Knight Age: ??? Race: ??? Appearance: A figure towering at a height of 7', clad in armor darker than the blackest of nights. If one looks close enough, the surface of the metal itself seems to roll and shift like an unseen tide... Or perhaps it's a trick of the light? Regardless, you should probably pay closer attention to that colossal maul of his. He has a reputation for crushing many a brave warrior with but a single swing of that weapon, and he seems to be looking your way... --- Background: Little is known of the Black Knight's origin. To many, it seemed as if he rose from nowhere. As if he'd merely one day stepped unto creation from the darkest pit of the underworld... Some suggest he may be an Oni, long since separated from his clan. Others think him to perhaps be a golem, fashioned by the hands of Lord Ahriman himself. Another such rumor is that he was once a general of one of the previous Demon Lords, attempting to make up for his prior failures under a new mantle... Countless rumors surround the knight, but who's to say which of them has any measure of accuracy? Only precious few know for certain. Skills and Abilities: Whereas many of Lord Ahriman's most trusted lackeys may be likened to a fine surgical instrument, the Knight would be more aptly described as a sledgehammer. His earth-shattering strength and massive weapon alone make him a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield; reducing entire squads of well-equipped soldiers to piles of liquified organs and rent steel in a matter of seconds... Those lucky few that have survived being in his presence often claim the unholy warrior radiates such an oppressive aura hatred and despair that most would sooner flee than face the monster, and that many struggle to even breathe in his midst. Fortunately such claims have been proven as pure myth. By who one might ask? By the Church of course! However in truth it is not his raw brutality, terrifying presence, nor even his armor; capable of wholly turning away all but the finest of unenchanted weaponry, that makes him so useful a servant. Aptitude for slaughter and being hard to kill are abundant traits in the denizens of Sheol. What truly sets the Knight apart from his many peers is his ability to suddenly manifest at any given battlefield without so much as a warning, only to vanish without trace the moment his bloody work is complete. This singular talent combined with his uncanny knowledge of human tactics has turned many battles in favor of Lord Ahriman's forces, proving him an invaluable asset to further conquest against the Goddess' army of mindless fodder. Quips: * The Knight speaks little, if at all. * It is considered fairly uncommon to spy the Knight alongside an army * His means of disappearance and reappearance is said to be known only to Lord Ahriman</s> <\|message\|>Once she was Katrina, daughter of the Knights of Valance, Weapons Expert Gold class. Now she usually just goes by Katrina and if she needs a last name Valance. In one of the many rooms of the castle of the self-professed Lord Ahriman there was a human woman sprawled out on a bed with her back against the headboard and her ankles crossed as they stretched out in front of her. There was not much in the way of personalization in this room, but of course the occupant currently on the bed had only taken possession of the room a few days ago. There were several weapons scattered about and on the table besides the bed was a glass of water that had not been touch and would not be touched and a stack of books that also hadn't been touch and would most likely be touched in the near future. The woman had taken a few books for her host library to pursue at her leisure and was reading one now. They were all histories of various conflicts between Heroes and Demon Lords and she was finding them quite interesting. Do to her upbringing she knew most of these stories already, but reading them from the other side was proving enlightening. The most enlightening fact she got was that both sides of the conflicts were practice liars. Though knowing that the histories were full of lies meant, with a little bit of deduction she could figure out a possible truth. In short, the woman was enthralled and didn't plan on ending her study anytime soon. The door to the room was closed but the window was not. It was though this window that a hawk shaped creature flew in to perch on the back of a chair, "We are going to be late Katrina." Katrina flipped the page of her book without looking up, "So? What do I care? Ahriman certainly won't. And if he does he'll just kill me so whatever. I carry a death sentence anyways and I rather have a demon kill me than let the Valances have the satisfaction." The bird shaped thing mentally spoke again, "If you die you won't be able to finish those books." Katrina paused her reading to look at the speaker. She wasn't sure what Rolf was. He was shaped like a hawk but given his habits of making good points and asking annoying questions she couldn't answer the human didn't think that's all there was too it. He might be a wizard's familiar of some kind, but she had no magic so probably not. He might be an angel or divine messenger but given the fact that they were currently in Sheol that was also unlikely. He was most likely a minor demon and that should worry Katrina, but too be honest she didn't care. She might also just be mad. She didn't care about that either. With a groan she pushed herself of the bed as she placed the book down, "Fine! Just how late are we going to be?" Rolf sounded amused, "Well, it was supposed to start at 1150. It is 1215 now." Okay, they weren't going to just be late. They were going to be extremely late. There was no way Katrina was going to go walking around in a Demon Lord's Castle without being fully armed and she wasn't going to rush either. As took her time to pull on her boots, fasten her breastplate and secure her hawking leathers. Then she double checked that every knife, all five of her swords, her whip, her battle fan, and all of her other countless weapons were precisely where they were supposed to be. She took more time doing that than she should have, but she didn't care and Rolf didn't rush her. Finally, Katrina left the room, not by the door, but by the widow. Since the meeting room was below her resting room it was the only logical choice. Her knees bent to disperse the momentum of dropping three stories and her legs protested with waves of pain. Katrina didn't even hiss as she ignored the pain as she began walking towards the meeting room. She did not slouch. For one thing being a practical walking armory didn't allow for that and for another thing her childhood training prevented it. So, yes, the woman's posture was perfect as she began her trip and Rolf flew down to rest on her shoulder. She still gave the impression of slouching as she moved. Maybe it was the hands in her pockets gripping the hilts of two throwing knifes. Maybe it was the blank look on her face. Or maybe it was just the disinterested air that completely surrounded her. Katrina finally made it to the hall and slipped inside without announcing her presence to anyone or anything. Despite seeming uninterested she took in everything she could see with a quick glace as she hugged the wall to slip into a corner to remain unobserved. Surprisingly it wasn't all demons. There were a more than a few mortals, a few dark magicians, and yes, a couple of demons. What the specifics of this particular collection were Katrina didn't care. She knew that in general they were all hear to hear Ahriman's crazy scheme on how to deal with the Heroes. Katrina had nothing personal against Heroes as a whole, but as people or persons she had a great deal against them. So, she would listen, for now. She wasn't going to eat or drink though. It all looked impressive and it was clear that several demons had already started feasting, but Katrina wasn't a fool. She had heard stories of both Heroes and Companions being stuck in Sheol after eating something there. She wasn't one hundred percent sure that was true and was willing to doubt it, but better safe than sorry. Right now, she just focused on the conversations. She was late and now needed to play catch up.</s> <\|message\|>Sebastian Slithers Sebastian Slithers Despair descends at Lord Ahriman's place. It cast a tall shadow similar to a snake's head as it walks through the corridor halls. A slender figure emerges from the entrance doors of the dining hall. It becomes more visible as it steps into the light. Shifting into something more human-like. "Pardon my tardiness, my Lord. But I run into some trouble with my experiments." It spoke in its dull and monotone voice. It was Sebastian, clad in his usual white surgeon coat with a black apron wrapped in front of it. As if he was running late and didn't have time to change his work attire for something more formal for the occasion. Nevertheless, He arrived to answer his Lord's call to a feast. "It seems one of my specimens didn't want to cooperate. I have simply no choice but to dispose of it. Such an untidy work actually, Good test subjects are so hard to find these days." Sebastian nonchalantly said, continuing with his excuse while adjusting his latex gloves. He sighed before making his way towards the banquet table. As he marches with his staff aiding him, Sebastian briefly flicks his forked tongue to check and smell his surroundings, monitoring anything that isn't sanitary as his paranoia kicks in. Surely, a massive gathering with all of the variety of demons, dark magicians, seasoned warriors, and other mythical creatures involved, these things would unintentionally invite what he hated and feared the most: germs. Despite the number of guests. The gloom and doom theme Lord Ahriman's fortress has. The massive feast that would spell contamination if not prepared right. Sebastian was pleased to know that His Lord knew how to keep his place tidy and disinfected; As expected. He then briefly curt a bow in front of Lord Ahriman, then proceeds to take his place at the massive table. Sebastian remained seated, minding his manners. He did not touch nor taste the abundance of mouth-watering food and overflowing booze laid in front of him. It was tempting yet he refuse to indulge himself in pigging out at the table. Not that he didn't like it. Oh no, It's just Sebastian thought to himself it's best to keep sober and attentive throughout the gathering. This meeting is all about business and pressing matters, Right? Why else Lord Ahriman summons forth his finest A-team hell has to offer?</s>	<\|message\|>The Black Knight "This damnable city is a fucking labyrinth!" After spending an entire week navigating the streets of this hellhole of a city Gale had only found Ahriman's castle less than an hour ago; and now found himself in the same hallway for the third time. Frankly, the former knight had been hesitant to even accept the Demon Lord's invitation in the first place even if it provided the perfect opportunity to strike at the very heart of the Church. "As if agreeing to hear out the proposal of a creature I've spent more than half my life training to kill wasn't bad enough-- I have to undertake a one man expedition to even FIND the damn meeting!" The mounting frustration of having to navigate days worth of winding passages of varying size and complexity finally surfaced in a string of curses as a raving Gale repeatedly kicked the nearest wall. By the time his nerves had calmed, the man had nearly split the toe of one of the boots he'd gotten just before braving the needlessly long trek through the endless complex of buildings and strongholds that demonkind called home. "Truly, only something so twisted as demons could design a city as torturous as this." Gale muttered to himself as he shook his head in frustration. At this rate, he was liable to miss the meeting entirely. "Maybe I could--" Before getting the chance to finish his thought out loud, a blur falling past a nearby window caught Gale's attention. The man's brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to determine what the hell he'd just witnessed. Did demons actually commit suicide? Or had a servant failed their lord for the last time and been simply tossed out the window? Regardless of the cause-- whoever had just fallen out the side of the building may have been carrying a map of the place, and Gale had every intent to make use of it for himself. Upon glancing out the window to determine if the demon's corpse was somewhere he could get to, the former knight was pleasantly surprised to find that it was neither a corpse or a demon that had passed the window... The person he'd seen drop was nothing other than a fellow human! Though Gale had no idea where the woman had jumped down from, the woman seemed like she'd taken quite the drop. Clearly she was in a rush to get somewhere fast. What were the odds she might be headed to the same meeting Gale was looking for? They were certainly better than him wandering aimlessly through these halls until he found the room he was looking for. "Bah, to hell with it then!" Prying open the window, Gale would follow the stranger's lead onto the balcony only a floor beneath him and tail her all the way to a lavish dining hall, stopping himself at the corner just before he'd enter the room. At long last he'd finally arrived at the meeting... But first, Gale needed to do one more thing before making his own entrance. --- In the doorway of the dining room; filled to the brim with fine foods and wine, the shadows seem to stir. Shapeless darkness became hardened edges, vague outlines focused into humanoid form, heavy steps echoed, the air grew heavy with cold, creeping dread. The Black Knight stepped into the dining hall, closing his fist and folding a single arm across his chest in salute to Lord Ahriman as the colossus would respectfully bow his head. Without so much as a single word the Knight took his place behind one of the table's many seats, opting to instead stand for the remainder of this gathering.</s>
<\|description\|>I Am Known As Serial Number Q5U4EX7YY2E9N Face Claim/Appearance: 1,997 liked this image Someone commented, "queen bodysuit supremacy" But You May Call Me... "QUEEN" Age: Old Enough To Legally Drink Battery Acid In 32 Countries (Ages 3 And UP) Gender: MILF Canon: Hmm Let Me See... Search Results State That I Originate From: Deltarune Chapter 2 Main Thread or Sandbox: I Prefer Not To Get Sand In My Vents Wait You Meant The Location LOL I Mean Sure Starting Location (SANDBOX ONLY): Calculating Coordinates... Ah I See Sources Inform Me That I Will Be Near A Facility Known As "Wayne Enterprises" in Metropolis Sources Also Tell Me That A Depressed Man In A Mascot Suit Hangs Out There IDK Why Lightners Keep Searching Him Up He Looks Homeless Personality: I Love Giant Mechs Vases With My Likeness Imprinted On Them Battery Acid Literally Nothing Else LMAO Im Easy To Please ... Okay Maybe I Love Noelle And My Round Son Too Theyre Funny To Look At Motivation: Well It Was To Generate Another Dark Fountain But Since Thats Out Of The Picture IDK LOL Id Go Home But Honestly This Place Looks Dope Maybe I'll Take Over It And Give Everyone Cool Robot Faces Equipment: I Have A Laser Pointer And Lots Of Safe Throwing Glasses Attributes: I Can Pull Up A Temporary Firewall That Can Block Attacks For A Short Period Of Time Unless It Becomes Severely Damaged Lots Of Lasers Cant Forget That Anyway Yeah I Would Totally Kick Your Ass Just Wait Until I Get My Mech Losers Biography: Now this is a story all about how My life got flipped turned upside down And I'd like to take a minute, just sit right there I'll tell you how I became the prince of a town called Bel-Air [Verse 2] In West Philadelphia born and raised On the playground is where I spent most of my days Chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool And all shootin' some b-ball outside of the school When a couple of guys who were up to no good Started makin' trouble in my neighborhood I got in one little fight and my mom got scared And said "You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air" I begged and pleaded with her day after day But she packed my suitcase and sent me on my way She gave me a kiss and then she gave me my ticket I put my Walkman on and said "I might as well kick it" First class, yo, this is bad Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass Is this what the people of Bel-Air living like? Hmm, this might be all right But wait, I hear they're prissy, bourgeois, and all that Is this the type of place that they should send this cool cat? I don't think so, I'll see when I get there I hope they're prepared for the Prince of Bel-Air [Verse 3] Well, uh The plane landed and when I came out There was a dude, looked like a cop, standing there with my name out I ain't trying to get arrested yet, I just got here I sprang with the quickness like lightning, disappeared I whistled for a cab and when it came near The license plate said 'Fresh' and it had dice in the mirror If anything I could say that this cab was rare But I thought "Nah, forget it, yo, Holmes, to Bel-Air!" [Verse 4] I pulled Up to a house about seven or eight And I yelled to the cabbie "Yo', Holmes, smell ya later" I looked at my kingdom, I was finally there To sit on my throne as the Prince of Bel-Air Other: Nah Bitch Get Me Out ---</s> <\|message\|>Shantae Lilith and Shantae Location: Mad Hatter's Arena And a bad idea it was, the moment that Lilith threw Joel's tea cup across the room was when The Hatter had enough of everyone's shenanigans, so he decided to take matters into his own hand and deal with this the hard way. Everything went black for a while after that until they woke up to find themselves standing on a giant stopwatch, endlessly falling through the air. Joel and Shantae seemed to be pretty confused about this whole scenario with Shantae following up to Joel's equal puzzlement "Wha-What's going on!?" She said in a frightful manner. But this ordeal wasn't going to get any better as The Hatter and his henchman suddenly appeared, along with Sougo, who was under the control of the crazy hat guy from drinking that tea. Maybe Lilith decision wasn't completely off board. So now the battle has officially begun with the bunny mask henchman and Sougo going on the attack, Lilith attacked the henchman using some of her spirit spikes and Shantae would notice that Sougo was about to attack Grey with his claw, thinking quickly she did one of her signature dances and turned herself in an elephant to charge after the armored individual. @Thatguyinastore @Crow @Paper94 @Attesa @davefromdiscord @TheElenaFisher</s> <\|message\|>Kurumi Amano / Nahobino Nahobino Kurumi Amano BOOM. That was the sound Nahobino heard when waking up. An explosion occurred, and their long, luscious lashes fluttered with haste, wildly awake and aghast. Where.. were they? This wasn't Da'at, this wasn't the Netherworld— But there was no time for that. The details of the predicament could come later. For now, they had to usher themselves out of such a perilous situation before they were caught in the crossfire. With an unsteady footing, Nahobino paused for a moment, fingers, eyes and luscious locks glowing alongside them. So did their galaxy-colored, futuristic, tailored jumpsuit. And seemingly appearing out of nowhere from nothing but the depths of the fusion's mind, manifested the Egyptian God of chaos and evil himself—Seth. A streamlined, pitch black dragon materialized from a luminous, crystallized blue light, dwarfing Nahobino and almost two large houses. --- "Young man. I am detecting several moving presences atop that building. It would be wise to investigate." Silently, Nahobino nodded at Aogami's advice and mounted the dragon and pulled on his reins, flapping them softly to alert the dark dragon to bound for the skies. With no words at all, Seth had already known what to do, as if in sync with its companion and master. With an abrasive gust of wind that shook the foundation of several buildings, the winged demon careened for the skies of poetic blue, sun-warmed, prickly yet free. They were carried above by warm updrafts. The fusion's collective heart beat hard—they could hear the wicked screams of others echoing in their ears, so they had to get up there and quick! The dragon let out a roar upon the Proto-Fiend's inner command as they rose to the top, descending with a crash as the dragon's talons landed through the building with seemingly zero damage, breaking the entire top off with its size alone. Well, what a way to debut for little Nahobino, eh? Interactions — @QizPizza @FactionGuerilla @MorgueofCrowz @Lazaro1505 @KageBaka @TheElenaFisher @SomeMekBoy @Crow @thatguyinastore</s> <\|message\|>Grey Grey Well, that's just great. So, after Grey, Lilith, and Shantae started objecting to the Hatter's demands, he took them all to this... weird arena made out of some... giant falling clock? None of this feels real to Grey- not entirely, anyway. It's like a really vivid dream. Backing up as he sees the men in masks appear out of thin air and begin to attack, he skeptically raises his sword... Only to nearly get clawed directly in the face by Sougo. His instincts kick in at the last second, and the fox narrowly dodges the claw by an inch. Alarmed, he dashes away from Sougo, leaving behind a trail of afterimages as he does so. "What the...? Hey, what was that for?!" Grey shouts at him incredulously, only for his eyes to light up as realization hits. The Hatter had wanted them to drink the tea. Sougo was the only one of them to actually listen to that request. That can't be a coincidence, can it? "Hold on a sec! I'm not who you want to fight!" he shouts at his mind-controlled ally. "The tea's messing with you!" Grey glances back at the others. It's a real good thing Joel didn't end up complying. He's got a newfound respect for Lilith and Shantae for speaking up, that's for sure. "Guys! I think bug-eyes is being controlled by the tea somehow! Maybe the other ones are being controlled, too! I'll deal with him. Focus on taking down the other ones!" The fox turns back to Sougo. "Look. I don't want to hurt you." @Kagebaka @Second2Last @davefromdiscord @Crow @TheElenaFisher</s>	<\|message\|>I Am Known As Serial Number Q5U4EX7YY2E9N Voss' CS Voss' Location: Metropolis Voss' Mood: Rootin' and lootin' Voss' Status: Healthy Voss' Inventory: Curved Saber A pair of Jakobs pistols (one is drawn and on the ground) Voss' Mentions: As Voss resumed his looting, Negan struck up a conversation with him. The sea captain hadn't bothered to look back at the man since he first questioned him. For the most part, Voss hoped that if he ignored him long enough, the other man would take off and Voss would once again be left to his own accord. When that didn't work, the older man shook his head and sighed. At least Negan wasn't immediately berating him for robbing the defenseless… as of yet. "... Well…ye'd never ken huat ye might find..." He retrieves a set of keys and tosses it just as his hands touch it. "... Maybe if ye find somethin' nice, like an' heirloom… ye can use it fer blackmail - if they's got family…" He then pulls out a wallet, briefly scans through its contents, and chucks behind him at Negan's feet. Whatever was in it, it had no value to Voss. "... If nay… I always like t' pitch it at rivals, watch 'em fight over it an' loot whoever's down…" He scoffed, but stopped once he begins collecting an unimpressive sum of coins. He frowns. "... 'Course," he continued. "Ye could always jest sell it. Which I might end up doin'. The last place I wanna be is 'ere savin' some nobodies from a man I donay give a shite fer… Maybe tear this watch off an' buy a ticket t' elsewhere… Oi, ye think this watch might be worth somethin'?" Voss finally turns back toward Negan to pull on the watch Luthor gifted everybody. To do this, he places his Jakobs on the ground, for the time being. The watch was wrapped around his wrist tight, but the stubborn old man was adamant that it was something that could be removed easily.</s>
<\|description\|>Ralsei Face Claim/Appearance: Age: 16 Gender: Male Canon: DELTARUNE Main Thread or Sandbox: Main Thread Personality: Ralsei is a kind soul who only wants to be surrounded by friends on thrilling adventures. His friendly demeanor and positive outlook on light is a beacon for some, but a blinding light for others. Such kindness leads Ralsei to care for other's health, and as a healer and hugger, he wants to heal your physical and mental pain at the same time. This means he's a valuable ally and powerful enemy, depending on which side of the battlefield you find yourself on. Taking on the role as a mentor is also in his skill set, despite his young age and apparent lack of experience, he stills hopes to teach whatever he can about combat, healing techniques, the environment, and laws of the land. Despite seeming like he has everything together, Ralsei suffers from not knowing who he is. His memory is just fine, that's not it, but he spent so many years alone, knowing his purpose in life, that he has trouble finding out just who he is supposed to be and how he wants to present himself to people. He's the kind of guy who writes a rough draft of a simple text message such as "hi", purely because he doesn't know what people will think of him if he sends the 'wrong" thing. His fatal flaw, is also, his kindness. While facing the evil King, he was very easily guilt-tripped into healing the King after he had been defeated by Ralsei and his friends, causing the King to get the jump on them, almost costing them their lives. Ralsei is very easy to manipulate, and is very susceptible to guilt. Motivation: Ralsei has a pretty simple mindset, he wants to keep everyone alive and healthy while also going on crazy adventures. Equipment: Ralsei uses a magic scarf as his weapon of choice. His current scarf is the Fiber Scarf, which gives a small bonus to his magic spells. Attributes: * Pacify- A spell that forces an already-tired foe to sleep. * Heal Prayer- A simple healing spell. Ralsei cloaks himself in light, raises his arm (or gives a hug) and heals an ally... or foe. * Fluffy Guard- Ralsei creates giant balls of fluff that act as force fields. * Sing- Ralsei sings a sweet lullaby that will make enemies tired, making way for Pacify. * Dual Heal- Only usable if Ralsei's magic is given a boost. Heals all allies. Biography: Ralsei is the prince of the once-named Empty Kingdom. He lived alone for years waiting on the two Lightners of legend (Kris and Susie) to arrive. Once they did, Ralsei joined the party, concealing his identity behind a robe (and later, hat) and helped the Delta Warriors along their way. Together, they defeated the King, and the Dark Fountain was sealed. Next, Empty Town was renamed to Playertown, and Ralsei remained it's prince. He had subjects now, as the Darkners from the Abandoned Classroom Fountain all moved in, as their own kingdom had vanished upon being sealed. Ralsei later accompanied Kris and Susie to Cyber World, where they battled the likes of Berdly, Spamton NEO, and Queen before Kris and Susie returned home, leaving Ralsei to wait in Playertown for their next adventure. That may be uh... interrupted. Other: This is Ralsei taken from the end of Chapter 2, having defeated all enemies using mercy, and after fighting Spamton NEO.</s> <\|message\|>Sephiroth A sick prank? A little game? Or a test from Mother. Which exactly was it now? It was curiosity that killed the cat.. but coming from a being known as unkillable, as the one true god of and ruler of earth.. surely he can afford to be curious. The old but surely not dead hero didn't care about how he got here. The exact details or why he was brought here were all irrelavant. He was never exactly the type to break his calm composure so easily. It was he who chose whether or not to 'feel', the ruthless and vengeful Sephiroth called the shots. Nobody, and nothing else. One-Winged Angel - Sephiroth. For a man in a situation like this, he was far too calm. Nothing disturbed him, nothing would. And yet his eyes were filled with a certain bloodthirst.. despite not speaking, he gave off the attitude and general vibe of somebody who would massacre your entire family, and make you watch him do it. To put it simply, he was not a man you would like, or want, to mess with. A very Angel of Death, taken human form.</s> <\|message\|>Dhar-ll Vallinor, The Chosen Hunter Natal, the Last Hunter Current Mood: Greatly Confused Physical Health: Physically fit as a rhino Mental Health: As fine as a nomadic lone hunter would be Before… all of this, he was alone, by himself, as always. He was currently traversing through the untamed wilds of the woods, slowly traversing the landscape as the man followed a trail of blood, as from the sky, his faithful companion was traversing the air, following him from above. As of now, he was currently hunting down yet another beast, one that will feed him and allow him to continue his own survival within the unforgiving woods. One dies, and with that death, another lives. Such how they circle of life is out here. And yet, it was rather strange when something had stung him on the back of the neck. Yet, he wasn't visibly disturbed by such. Perhaps it was a night insect that he had disturbed and as such, got stung in return. It wouldn't matter much, he had a far higher pain threshold than most others due to the blessings of the spirits that make him stronger, and as such, it wouldn't bother him and disturb him from his task. And yet, that pain didn't go away, slowly growing in intensity, that even his own higher pain threshold wasn't enough to stop him from recoiling in pain, and stopping in his spot as of a result from such pain. From above, seeing their companion in such a state, Wind flew down from the sky, the Eagle descending down and landing next to its owner, making small squaks that seem to be that of concern and worry, as Natal felt himself to begin slowly losing consciousness. It wasn't long after, that his body systems finally failed him, and into darkness he went. For what seemed to be an unknown amount of time later that seemed endless, he had finally woken up, eyes slowly opening as the very senses in his body returned to him. And what a strange place he had woken up to. Surrounded by stranger men and creatures, and encased seemingly in some sort of clear cage shaped like that of a square. The man slowly took a few steps away from the closest individual, his right hand drawing a iron dagger that has seen it's fair share of use, alert and ready to slice at the nearest hostile that comes into range. And yet, nothing 'hostile' came after him, for everything here was greatly confused, just like he was. Perhaps they were taken as well? But why…? It was then, a strange voice came from nearby, and looking towards it revealed some woman in strange cloth. And speaking the strange language that some travelers and strangers to the woods would say, they said something about… 'Luthor' calling them up? Was this the individual that trapped them here? But why would they want to meet up with them? Shouldn't they have already proven themselves to be far superior, if they had already caught these many individuals and at once he may say. Especially if the man was capable of harming an individual, even without being in eyesight, after watching a man who clearly ran his mouth a bit too much now, and got rewarded with pain. That was something to be wary of. And so, without another word being shed, the tribal decided to explore his new environment now, listening to sounds of conversation and what appears to be strange noises coming from nearby with the dancing green armies knight, the man walked up to one of the walls. Hmm… perhaps he can try and explore the top to see if the glass was weaker uptop, as he began to call upon the animal spirits of the wild to his aid. If successful, he would have found a dark green glow to envelop his arms and legs, occasionally flaring our, as if the energy was waiting to be used, to be utilized into a different form. Merely willing the energy into the shape he wanted, his hands and feet began to slowly form the green energy, slowly forming itself into that of seemingly, a set of lizard like limbs covered in scales. However, if one were to look at the underspot of of them limbs, they would have found it to be similar to that of a gecko's limb. Placing his hands onto the glass wall, he would have begun to traverse the wall up and towards the roof, mostly taking a look around and occasionally tapping upon the glass itself in curiosity. No words were shed from him. (Open for interaction)</s> <\|message\|>I Am Known As Serial Number Q5U4EX7YY2E9N Voss' CS (Reaction Images Coming Soon) Voss was floating down the Chicago River late one night in a small, ramshackle rowboat he constructed himself. The events of his latest adventure had left him tired, angry, and most importantly of all, ashamed. But he finally managed to flee to safety and was now making his way toward the Great Lakes. He likely wasn't going to find a way home there, but that was fine by him. He had given up hope a long time ago. His biggest priority now was finding solitude and away from the endless source of trouble Chicago had given him. The last thing he remembered was when the sea captain was nearing the city limits. At that point, Voss felt a sharp pain at the back of his neck and swatted at it. He believed some kind of bug just bit him, and he continued along his merry way until a short distance later when the sensation of pain suddenly became debilitating. Almost as soon as he was afflicted, the pain migrated to his head and gave him an agonizing migraine. His thought process became slowed and his peripheral vision became dark. The ex-Phantom attempted to move toward the gunwale of the boat with whatever energy he had left in case he were to get sick, but halfway there, his elbows gave out, and he hit his chin on the side of the boat as he collapsed. He rolled onto his back where he could face the stars. The numbing pain swiftly moved down the rest of his body, until his whole body was left paralyzed in a matter of minutes. Before he knew it, a buzzing blared in his ears before he inevitably fell unconscious... --- When Voss awoke, he was greeted by the barren grey ceiling above him. He hadn't even begun to look around, and yet he could faintly hear the confused mutterings of others around him as his hearing returned. He knew precisely what that could mean, and he prayed to every single god that could be out there that it wasn't the case. He shakily lifted his upper torso up with an arm behind him, and the other rubbing his chin which - at least from what he can feel - had a small gash. The pain soon began to radiate again as he came to. Voss hesitantly opened one of his eyes while he tended to his jaw. Unfortunately for him, his fears came true: the wide variety of the guests in the room suggested he was in another one of those "multiverse hell" situations. Upon spotting the dull woman in the room, the sea captain could help but mutter to himself as he tried to gently lay himself on his back again. "... Oh, feck me- AHK!!" His still weakened muscles gave out on him again, and he fell onto his back hard, hitting the back of his head in the process. Of course, he was fine that time, but it was enough to keep Voss down a little longer as his old body gradually recovered from his ordeal. Even with the whole scene the biker-looking man caused, Voss chose to remain on his back to take a breather. Best to stay that way. (Open for Interaction)</s>	<\|message\|>Ralsei Though he had fallen asleep under the faint glow of the Dark Fountain, Ralsei awoke in a strange, cramped cage. He wasn't alone, something he both was grateful for and sad to see, as many others of all shapes and sizes woke up around him. He barely had time to adjust to his new surroundings when he heard the bat-wielding man speak up... and the fall to the ground shortly afterwards. The sight made the fur on the back of his neck stand up, and he almost felt ill upon seeing the blood pool on the floor and the man's gagging. Hesitant to stand, the young prince slowly got to his feet, taking a moment to study the faces of those around him. Humans, a monster, a... dancing robot... and even more humans. Such a sight would have been impossible to see back in his kingdom. He wasn't in the Dark World anymore, that much was certain. Walking over to Red Riding Hood, Date, and Negan's position, Ralsei studied the collapsed man. He was in a miserable state, and Ralsei winced at the thought of the pain this man must be feeling. All this, just for being loud? Ralsei wasn't a fan of his inappropriate remarks, sure, but seeing the state he was in, the Darkner knew what had to be done. Holding his hands together as a warm, yellow light enveloped him, Ralsei swiftly lifted his right hand into the air, the golden light dissipating in an instant. To replace the golden glow however, came a series of green sparkles over Negan's body. Negan would feel some of his pain and damage be lifted from him, a result of Ralsei's spell. "That should help." Ralsei spoke softly with a small smile, the biggest he could muster at the moment, to whoever may be listening. "I think we should... keep our thoughts to ourselves for now." Sitting down on the ground, Ralsei's smile struggled to stay on his face. This wasn't the first time he had been locked up, but now? He didn't have Kris, or even Susie, by his side. He was surrounded by strangers for a purpose he didn't even know of. Was this punishment? Did he do something wrong? The fear was starting to build as he took a deep breath. "We could be here a while..." He said the group. "Let's get comfy." --- Beowulf Among the cast of trapped figures was a well-built man wearing clothing covered in wolf pelts. It would seem like this man was from the wild, someone who was raised by wolves and carried a fierce, primal personality. He wasn't. "Coulda like," He said, more annoyed than anything, pulling out a folding chair from seemingly nowhere. "Sent a card or something." Unfolding the chair, he placed it on the ground, and... Sat down, waiting for "Mr. Luthor" to show up. Open for interaction</s>
<\|description\|>Lucifer Morningstar Age: It's complicated. Gender: As Cis male as an Angel can be Main or sand: Main Personality: Lucifer has a complex relationship with many things, especially himself and his family. While he presents as extremely confident and full of himself, deep down Luci still hates himself. His personality may come off as rather uncaring, but still manages to show how he does care in some of the oddest of ways. Lucifer is able to gain connections all over from his charm and angelic nature. Passing out favors is how he ties so many to him out of need to repay the debt one day, cashing the debt in whenever he so chooses. A deal with the devil is often depicted as him stealing your soul, not your liquor. Lucifer has a strict policy on not lying, though will often leave out parts of the truth. To him it's not lying if you haven't said anything false, and he is very strict on his policy to never lie to anyone. Ask him just about anything and he will answer in some kind of truth. Equipment: Lucifer never carries anything on his person. With his invulnerability to anything not demonic or holy he has no need to be armed. Just his fists and the flask he has stored away in his suit is all Luci has ever needed. Attributes: Lucifer holds an immunity to everything non holy or demonic, it also gives him a major strength boost that acts in a similar way. He has bent metal, thrown a man through a window with a single push, guarded against an onslaught of bullets with just his wings, and survived being passed out in the American desert. Lucis strength has given him the upper hand in many situations, and is regarded as one of the strongest siblings. While he doesnt have any fancy powers, he makes due with his fighting knowledge. Lucifer's wings give him the ability to travel between dimensions, using them to get between earth and hell. On top of that his time spent in hell has given him an immunity to fire that he often flaunts off. To top off all his abilities Lucifer has the power to draw out desires, often using it in cases to help get a lead. Looking directly into someone's eyes allows him to pull at the deeper wants within, not many able to resist the pull. Aside from desires, any hints of his more devilish side has drawn people into fear and paranoia. Once he had drove a man into complete insanity with the mere look at his devil face. Some appeared to be almost immune to the paranoia effect, though almost everyone seems to react in even the slightest bit of fear. Bio: Lucifer was cast down from heaven after leading a rebellion against God that ultimately failed. Being banned from ever going back to heaven, he spent his time going between earth and hell to have his fun. After having enough of ruling hell, he abandons his throne to go live a life running LUX. Though this ultimately doesn't work out in any way that he hoped. Other: Lucifer has shown knowledge and connections with others in the multiverse, but apparently doesn't care enough if faced with the end of everything. He much rather spend his time not worrying about something he can't help with. Though when he does care about something he can get very angry.</s> <\|message\|>I Am Known As Serial Number Q5U4EX7YY2E9N Voss and Sanford's CS Voss' Location: Undetermined Voss' Mood: Craving Violence Voss' Status: Scratched up, but otherwise healthy Voss' Inventory: Curved Saber A pair of Jakobs pistols Voss' Mentions: [@teapartybs]@Thatguyinastore@Kagebaka@cadesmith@SomeMekBoy@TheRealMonaMona@ClownTown Sanford's Location: Undetermined Sanford's Mood: Oblivious Sanford's Status: Scratched up, but otherwise healthy Sanford's Inventory: A Meathook Sanford's Mentions: @Attesa@darkred --- "Who am I?" Sanford finally turned to face Grey and, subsequently, Thomas. His constant chuckling and overall attitude so far came off as very jock-ish to the two. It's a wonder how the grunt could be so enthusiastic when he visibly has these wounds across his face and body that drip black tar. He pouts. "I'm Sanford, A.A.H.W. butcherer extraordinaire! That's a fancy way of saying 'mercenary.' If you need someone like me to snuff a life out for ya and you got the cash, I'm the man! Aheha!" For emphasis, he withdrew his signature meathook and grabbed it by the wire to spin the hook around like a fan. He rotated toward Thomas while still spinning the bloodstained weapon. "Director of a spy agency? Doc would love you." --- Voss started to cringe heavily as Fret didn't let off on the questioning. If he could, without risking to experience what happened to the guy with the bat, he'd shut Fret up the only way he knew how: with good ol' violence! Like grabbing him and shaking him like a newborn baby! Of course, threats could work just fine, but Voss had a feeling Fret was so dense they'd fly over his head. Thankfully for the hateful captain, he never really got a chance to answer, as Fret instead focused his attention on the answer Tosai got, and then discarded the curious nature entirely. Voss swiped his brow in relief. "Phew! Aye, the pirate life, it's… uh… pretty cool I guess…" He almost brought that last part to a whisper before immediately returning it to his normal boisterous volume. He caught a glance of a blur flying across his peripheral and began to look around for where it came from. Voss rotated and stopped and rotated again in place several times in confusion, until eventually spotting Fret speaking to Negan in an angry, naive manner. Voss mindlessly followed Fret, now taking the role as the curious one. What exactly happened here? "Ey ey, let's settle down, aye? Who threw huat? Who said huat? Gimme the juicy details!"</s> <\|message\|>Red Riding Hood Red Riding Hood Mood - Overjoyed Status - Healthy Interactions/Mentions - @Midle1998 --- Upon hearing the Captain's surprised gasp, Red laughed a little before she was suddenly surprised by being lifted up in his arms, that once maintained smile being poisoned with panic - albeit panic that quickly passed. "Yeah, that's right - I'm here alright! You ain't getting rid of me this time!" She laughed a little more before being shook and held close and tightly - something she briefly reciprocated... before being put down and having her hair messed up. Of all the times her hood fell down, it 'had' to be while she was running to him, huh? "Well, I didn't intend to be in a glass cage today, but I woke up and here I am. But hey! Seeing as I'm here, it'd be a shame to waste the opportunity if we're not gonna get it for another long time!" With a bright smile up to him, she raised a closed fist up to him as she stared at him from such an angle. It may not have been a planned reunion, but no job is gonna separate them this time! ...Right?</s> <\|message\|>Age --- The scuffle involving the rat seemed to end well, with the rat unharmed and their clothing being repaired by some...mystic Force stone or some made-up stuff like that. However, the beast responsible had disappeared into the crowd of people within the cage. Whether beast or girl, Maisha doubted it would be easy to hunt her down with so many people in the way. She might an issue in the future, but Maisha didn't have the means to take care of her now without catching anyone else with his literal field of fire. The Mandalorian put out of his mind the thought as he scanned the room. He wasn't looking for anyone in particular, just trying to get a lay of the land. The Galaxy was a big place and he got to see a lot of it in his occupation, but these people were beyond strange to him. Plenty of them were human or near human, but their clothes, weapons, and armor didn't resemble anything he'd seen before. It was dizzying to look at and process. One particular figure stood out and alarmed even Maisha. If the hideously burned pale face lacking eyelids wasn't enough to scare everyone else away the knife embedded into their skull without any seeming ill effect certainly did. No one was helping the kid, and it was quite understandable. Maisha would be put off by a man who survived being stabbed in the important part of their body. However, not knowing the circumstances, he abided by his own personal code as an Arbintz. Approaching this strange man, Maisha procured a bacta patch from his belt with one hand and kept his other hand ready to defend himself at a moment's notice. This was true for most people he met, but especially for such an off putting character. "You okay with that kal in your head? I have a bacta patch. I highly recommend that you take it for your wound." --- Location: Some Glass Cage Physical Condition: Mild Concussion Mental Condition: Cautious, Offput Mentions/Interactions: (Head Knife Boy need help?)</s> <\|message\|>Noriaki Kakyoin --- Yoshikage Kira As Lucifer went on, Yoshikage Kira listened attentively, although his body language did not betray it. He gazed over at the One-Winged Angel and his gaggle of fools with a resigned, almost whimsical expression, eyelids hanging half-closed to demonstrate his disinterest. If the Devil himself claimed to fear the white-haired man, then Kira was of no mind to disagree, but his was a set of skills tailored to work in tandem with the attribute that he had built all his life on. If the whims of fate willed it and the two parties came to blows, Yoshikage Kira could very well die in the fray, of course. But he had in his possession a power unlike any that the One-Winged Angel or the Devil himself did, from the look of things. More than any companion, Kira could always turn to his fortune. If necessary, that was all he needed to rely on, for better or for worse. A quiet smile crept onto his face for but the blink of an eye. No matter the odds, luck would always side with Yoshikage Kira. "Of course," Kira began, accompanying the words with a resigned shrug. "Their battles are theirs alone, I would say. Just as your battles are yours to fight, and mine in turn. Although..." Kira swept his eyes along the One-Winged Angel's blade, mildly surprised at his capacity to keep it upright despite its frankly gratuitous size. "If I were to fight, I doubt I would lose to anyone." As the conversation flowed further, Kira flowed with it, listening quietly and doing his best to keep the racket of the mewling reprobates on the other side of the cage out of his ears. No walk in the park, of course, but the measure of a man was the trail of adversity he left behind him, and Yoshikage Kira's trail was certainly long enough by its lonesome. He had overcome every obstacle set before him, and did not intend to stop on the account of another, no matter how grand he thought himself. "Of course not," Kira agreed. "Although, I'm afraid I'm not a believer. I suppose I should change my ways, now that I've been offered proof?" Then, Kira hesitated, for just a moment. "No, I believe it's too late for my soul to be saved now. It's no matter - I never held the Lord in high esteem to begin with." Almost on instinct, Kira's fists tightened, one balling tightly in his blazer pocket. "If there is one thing Yoshikage Kira is not, it is useless. I'll play along with our little game, for the moment. If nothing else, it stands to be entertaining. All of these fools in one place, who knows the destruction they could cause with nary an eyelid batted? Surely, our cause must be important if it's worth taking such a gratuitous risk..."</s>	<\|message\|>Lucifer Morningstar Words from the other had made Lucifer look over at him, an amused look of his face. A short chuckle and a shake of his head, the devil didn't seem phased at all. More amused than anything. The man seemed to have an ego, easily twisting words. Though now Lucifer new a little more about his new buddy. "Why take the risk at all if you don't have some fall back? I've dealt with too many humans, if this man doesn't have some way to keep us on the proverbial leash then I'd be throughly shocked." Lucifer seemed to brush any possible threats aside, remaining calm. He had no reason to fear Kira so far, as far as he was aware he was just cocky. He had bigger things to worry about, fighting his fellow cagemates wasn't one of them. It was boring to have threats thrown at him, but he doesn't want to test the waters just yet. He stepped away from Kira a bit, looking around again but keeping an eye on the action. "If you're so confident, maybe we should both play the peace keeper. The more hands working together the better, and after all we all want to go home. Less death the better- for now. I know I might either way, but if you're as strong as you claim I could use the help. Admittedly I don't have many powers that aren't good for non-humans. And as I've discovered- other angels from other places are much stronger than I am, so 9 times out of 10 I'll lose to another me. Absolutely dreadful if you ask me, partly why I hate the damn muktiverse. There's always a bigger fish in the sea!" Turning back around and facing Kira, Lucifer looked him down once more. He looked rather frustrated, but his posture was still rather lax and calm. No huge worry clearly showing anywhere other than his face and the slight stress to his lean. Neither of them liked the situation or wanted to be here, they could work better together. Even if Lucifer takes a supportive role four hands are better than two, plus he has wings and an immunity to fire. Luci could be very helpful even if he doesn't have a ton of powers. "So, what do you say? It's easier to take others down if you have a buddy! I'm not completely useless you know, even if we can both hold our own it's easier with a small team I've learned."</s>
<\|description\|>Sarah Miller "Here. You kept complaining about your broken watch, so I figured, you know. Do you like it?" Age 12 Gender Female Canon The Last Of Us Main Thread or Sandbox Main Thread Personality Sarah shares Joel's sense of humor as she trades jabs with her father during the prologue without missing a beat. She cares about him, as she somehow manages to scrounge up enough money to buy him an implied expensive birthday present. Like Ellie, Sarah is mature for her age as she is calm and collected when she claims she's 'fine' to Tommy, mere minutes after Joel shot their infected neighbor. She seems to possess above-average intelligence for her age given there is an Honor Roll certificate and an additional academic award hanging above the computer in her room. Sarah is also caring and selfless as she was worried over Tommy's safety instead of her own and said that they should have stopped to help the family they passed in the road. Another possibility is that she was in shock because of the whole ordeal, and was able to compartmentalize it. Motivation From her point in time, all she cares for is living. Equipment N/A Attributes N/A Biography Little is known about Sarah or her past prior to the outbreak except that she lived a regular, everyday life in the Austin, Texas area with her father Joel. She was on a youth soccer team at one point and won an individual award in a game/tournament, as evidenced by several pictures in their house and the picture Ellie stole for Joel. She also enjoyed hiking with her father and skateboarding, as shown by a skateboard leaning against the wall in her room at the start of the game. It is unknown what happened to her mother, besides that they and Joel were once married "for a while". Sarah is first seen waking up on a sofa to find Joel talking on the phone to her uncle Tommy. Afterwards, Joel sits down on the couch and Sarah gives him a birthday present, a new wristwatch where she jokes that she bought it with the money she got from selling "hardcore drugs". After watching some TV with her father, she eventually falls asleep again and Joel carries her back to her room and puts her to bed. Later, she is awakened in the middle of the night by an urgent phone call from Tommy who instructs her to get her dad. The line goes dead, prompting her to search for Joel, passing the birthday card she made for Joel and she checks his room, seeing a news report about a gas leak that cuts dead as an explosion in the distance startles Sarah before she proceeds downstairs, seeing several police cars rush past her house. She finds her father's cellphone with eight missed calls and a text from Tommy saying "where the hell are you? CALL ME!", along with "On my way". She enters her father's study, just as Joel runs in through the open sliding door to the backyard; he is covered in blood and extremely nervous. Joel retrieves his revolver from his desk and says that their neighbor Jimmy Cooper is "sick". The man in question appears, running towards the sliding door, smashing his way through the glass and into the room, causing Sarah to jump back in fright; Joel instinctively puts himself between her and Jimmy. The man charges at the pair, forcing Joel to shoot him and Sarah is in disbelief at what had occurred, but is quickly calmed by her father. Suddenly, Tommy pulls into their driveway and they jump into his car where they begin driving out of town to get to safety, but some routes are blocked and others clogged with traffic. With no alternative, Tommy diverts into town, narrowly avoiding an Infected patient trying to enter the vehicle. In the mayhem, a car crashes into them, injuring Sarah's leg and impairing her movement. With the car now totaled, Joel carries her whilst Tommy protects them, looking for a safe place. They enter a bar with some Infected hot on their heels. Tommy instructs them to get to the highway and he'll hold the infected back and catch up with them. They flee, closely followed by other infected. As they approach the highway, with Infected closing in on them, a soldier saves them by shooting the Infected. The soldier radios for orders on what to do with Joel and Sarah, only to be instructed to eliminate them despite Sarah's presence. Although Joel tries to reason with him, the soldier reluctantly opens fire and Joel dives for cover, barely shielding Sarah; the girl cries out in pain as they fall down. The soldier walks up to Joel and prepares to kill him, but he falls to the ground before he can do so, shot by Tommy. The relief is short lived as Sarah begins crying; Joel sees that Sarah was shot in the abdomen, and pleads with her to hang on. She clasps her father, Joel trying to stem the bleeding to no avail and she dies in his arms. Other She is only here because Joel is going to be here. You're fucking welcome, Storeguy.</s> <\|message\|>Shantae Lilith and Shantae Lex answered both of Lilith and Shantae's questions. Starting with Lilith, he said that a incorporeal being with the power of possession could surely become useful at some point or another, not to mention her other more powerful abilities. "Um...I guess that could help." She said showing a slight bit of uncertainty, Lilith actually was able to pull of some pretty impressive stuff, the only reason she really asked that was because she had somewhat of a inferiority complex and she probably still wasn't sure if she was comfortable with helping Lex out with his whole bounty problem, but hey, every little bit helps right? Next Lex answered Shantae's question by keeping it brief and saying that they did some research and leaving it at that, that answer worried her, an answer that vague must mean that they must've done something really outlandish or immoral to do so and anyone that secretive must be doing so. They might of been spying on these people and their every move and that kind of creeped her out, so now that she was given that explanation she just responded and tried not to think about it anymore, as doing so would likely drive anyone crazy. "Uh...okay then." She wasn't sure if she wanted to trust Lex after she heard this. But spying on people was just the beginning of Lex's questionable actions, actually this one was more the questionable. After having to put up with some petty arguing he became feat up with it and move his hand under the desk he was sitting in, likely to press some sort of button that was hidden there, and suddenly Sarah was surrounded in a mass of black smoke before disappearing completely. "Jesus Christ!" Lilith shouted out in shock, meanwhile Shantae let out a freighted yelp, now she trusted him even less. Neither of them didn't even know what to say at first but soon enough Lilith finally said something. "What...What the hell did you do to her!?" She believed that the whole 'she is safer now' excuse was good enough. (Open for interaction)</s> <\|message\|>Grey Grey Grey's been taking this all in. So this Mister Luthor guy wants them here to stop some tyrannical overlord with powers from terrorizing the city? Sounds familiar, the dumbfounded fox thinks to himself. But apart from the name and the footage, the group, Grey included, don't seem like they have any clue about what this Superman is capable of. So when Luthor asks for any other questions, the fox is quick to speak. "Sir?" he starts and steps forward. "I've got a question. What else do we need to know about this... 'Superman' guy?" He would be lying if Grey said he didn't get some bad vibes from the billionaire, but this alien seems to be the bigger fish to fry right now. He'd have to ask more about why Luthor was keeping them under such scrutiny later- when they weren't being threatened with brain-frying frequencies and guns.</s> <\|message\|>Age --- To Maisha's horror, the kid just…yanked the knife out of his head like he was pulling it out of a sheath. The kid didn't even flinch as he wiggled around before finally releasing the blade from his dome piece. He must have been some kind of monster. Underneath his helmet, Maisha gritted his teeth and cringed. If he were the one doing it for an injured brother in a life or death situation, it would be no problem, but seeing it be treated with such triviality was something else. Thankfully for the pale kid, the bacta patch would almost instantly clot the bleeding and begin healing the cut as if it were magic. Within the hour, the bacta would've completely healed the wound and left no scar behind.. That clear slime was a beautiful thing, healing wounds as if it were as easy as inflicting it...and bacta this pure and effective wasn't cheap either. Especially since the Empire's fall, getting high-quality bacta was almost impossible and a single tank cost as much as a small ship. With all that said, the point is: the kid better be grateful. However, the boy's response did take Maisha off guard. Not the part about his age. Maisha was only 13 cycles old when he killed his first man and even younger when he first hunted the vermin that plagued his family's hanger. No, it was how casually the boy implied that he was going to kill everyone. As a bounty hunter, Maisha had met his share of eccentric, violent, and big-talking characters who would say the exact same thing and wouldn't cause him to bat an eye. What unnerved Maisha was how all the little details were coming together, between the appearance, the durability, and the violent comment the kid made. Individually, he wouldn't care, but the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. "You can definitely try, ad'ike, but I doubt you'd get through more than two of these hardened verde," Maisha chuckled, but it was more cover up his concern than anything else. He wasn't worried so much about himself as he was about everyone around him who didn't have the means to defend themselves against an unseen knife. Before those concerns could be seen any further, the woman from before returned with a change of clothes and the go ahead to see Mr. Luthor. Maisha had almost forgotten about the man what had brought them here with all the commotion! The Mandalorian entered the lift with no complaints with all the others, just as eager as most to find out what the was going on. At the top floor, the group was greeted with an opulent office fit for the well-dressed businessman sitting at the center desk. Maisha knew the type well, having dealt with those who held some self-importance just because they had plenty of credits to throw around. Lex Luthor immediately got to business, revealing that he collected everyone there for a "situation." The euphemism made Maisha cross his arms, knowing that it indicated a complex problem that would pay appropriately if this man had the slightest sense of fairness. A small smile crept into Maisha's face as the man named Spike Spiegel asked if this was a bounty. Of course it was, but the pay...they weren't in much of a position to negotiate if Luther was able to put them all in that cage without any hitches. Maisha certainly wanted a enough credits to buy a few new blasters and the knowledge of where his ship was, but freedom was also nice. Then the bald man dropped something about a "multiverse" and multiple universes. That threw Maisha's head into dizzy. Did he end up in Wild Space or get stuck in Hyperspace to end up here? Well...that would have to come another time, as he shifted his focus onto a hologram of a "Superman" and gave a brief on their target. Seeing their target, even just a hologram...Maisha was became very, very concerned. This man could shoot lasers from his eyes, fly, and destroying buildings and chest cavities with his bare hands. Maisha had hunted his fair share of tough targets, but this...this was absurd! It was like asking them to take on a Gozanti-class cruiser with size of a man and the agility of an A-Wing with nothing but a few blasters! Bewildered by this request, Maisha didn't immediately react to the man rushing Luthor and beat the living hell out of that dome piece, but thankfully, someone man in a red and blue suit yanked him away with a fiber cord before he killed everyone's best shot at getting home. However, just as it seemed to be over, Luthor pressed a button that made some girl disappear into a cloud of smoke, sending the girl's presumed father into a renewed frenzy. Though he didn't know all the details, Maisha felt for this man, having lost his mother to the Empire. Family was important to many, and none moreso than a Mandalorian. He was feeling generous today, so he approached this man and knelt down beside him. He had a knife in hand ready to cut the man free from his restraints if he calmed down. "Greetings burc'ya, please calm down. Your fighting won't do your child any favors. Right now, you've been dealt a questionable hand, and if you jump on the draw too soon, you'll bomb out. I understand your devotion, though. I am no father, but as Mando'ad I know unrelenting devotion to my family. If you wish to have my assistance, I will do everything I can to reunite the two of you for no other reason than to see a family restored, ori'haat (I swear it to be true)." --- Location: Lex Luthor's Office Physical Condition: Fine Mental Condition: Very Concerned, Sympathetic Mentions/Interactions:@Chung (Head Knife Boy kinda sussy) @Paper94(Fellow Bounty Hunter) @SomeMekBoy (Spidey shooting his web all over Joel) @Thatguyinastore (Sad Dad need help?) @cadesmith (Gone girl)</s>	<\|message\|>Sarah Miller ???They're healthy, however they're also very confused! --- As the smoke surrounding Sarah had cleared, someone completely different had been in the girl's place. It was none other than... "I, the GREAT ninj- wha!" The horribly dressed ninja looked around, a baffled expression donned upon her. One moment, she was fighting off crime, or, she was about to! Next thing she knows, she's just in a room with a LOT of different people! The restoration committee member didn't waste much time on examining each and every person there - as there had, again, been a lot of people. Instead, she looked to the one who she somewhat recognized - Lex Luthor was his name, wasn't it? The girl had heard that name and face thrown around here and there back in Gotham, well, for the one month she had been stranded in the city. Had some magic mumbo-jumbo led her to him and this diverse crowd? She took a few steps closer to his desk, humming to herself as she looked him up and down, before she held out a hand to shake his. Safe to say, she was totally unaware of what happened before she came around. "I think I know you, sir Luthor! Need an introduction or do you already know of my great deeds?" </s>
<\|description\|>Samus Aran Age: Mid-30s Gender: Female Canon: Metroid Post-Fusion/Pre-Dread Stats: Height: 6'3" (1.91 meters) Weight: 198 lbs (90kg) Personality: A serious, no-nonsense bounty hunter, Samus Aran has been hardened by her countless missions she endured over the years. She has shown unparalleled willpower and resourcefulness, succeeding where thousands failed and stopping at nothing to save the galaxy from any threat that may arise - even willing to sacrifice herself on multiple occasions for the greater good. While she is a warrior loner with few words, Samus' prefers to rather speak with her actions. Even so, within her cold armor exoskeleton, she is also known for her compassion, and has consistently stood up to secure the helpless and downtrodden. Equipment: * Varia Suit: After her original Chozo-made armor was fused into her by the "X-Parasites" - with the organic pieces of her suit fusing into her body - Samus was given a new power suit to complement her radical altercations. It faithfully recreated her original Varia suit - arm cannon and all - sporting orange and gold highlights on top of a sleek new white finish. The new power suit allows her to be faster and more agile compared to her old suit, while still durable enough to take a beating, as well as capable in withstanding superheated temperatures. However it does not protect her from superheated liquids, like magma, as well as extreme cold. Attributes: * Metroid DNA: Thanks to the metroid vaccine that initially rid her of the "X-Parasites", Samus' DNA has been altered to gain the Metroid's immunity to the X-Parasites, while consequently gaining their weaknesses to intense sub-zero cold. * Morph Ball: Samus' suit allows her to morph into a ball, allowing her to crawl into extremely tight spaces. It can also drop bombs in this form. * Charge Beam: Allows Samus to charge up her arm cannon to unleash a more powerful blast for more damage. * Grapple Beam: Allows Samus to unleash a physical beam of energy that allows her to latch onto surfaces and hang for a significant amount of time. * Homing Missiles: Allows Samus to fire missiles one at a time at enemies. These missiles can track opponents' heat/energy signatures. * Screw Attack: Allows Samus to cause damage to opponents by spinning into them in the air. * Speed Boost/Shinespark: Allows Samus to run at enhanced speeds; which given enough momentum can allow her to crash into breakable walls at lightning speed. Harnessing enough concentrated speed allows her to initiate the "shinespark" technique in a several second window - propelling herself in the said direction with a huge burst of power for a considerable distance. This is a heavily costly ability, that may cause self-damage if Samus doesn't properly stop in time. Biography: This incarnation of Samus Aran represents her between the events of "Metroid: Fusion" and "Metroid: Dread". Themes</s> <\|message\|>SPAMTON G. SPAMTON SPAMTON G. SPAMTON Spamton laid a Pipis on Lex Luthor's desk the moment the explosion went off next door. He was too young and beautiful to get a hole punched through him by some caped maniac no matter what baldy said. That said he had to be carried out by staff as he struggled to climb over them back into the safety of Lex lair. Once outside he froze as he watched a giant dragon fly into the affirmation building. "WHAT THE [!$$!] IS THAT!" He stood in awe practically laying another Pipis. He needed to find somewhere to hide and wait this whole ordeal out. Perhaps this world had better garbage cans to offer. Thus he scampered off in search of one. Which unfortunately drew him closer to the building, but he saw the outline of a dumpster in an alley near it and dashed for it, standing proudly before a fire exit door. "HA! SPAMTON G. SPAMTON LIVES ANOTHER DAY!" He said before seeing a humanoid figure booking it towards him. He couldn't react in time as a metal door was slammed in his metal face leaving a Spamton patented dent and hole. "YOWCH! I THINK MY NOSE IS BROK3N!" The puppet felt his face and surely enough his nose was bent upwards. He'd track down the nose breaking bandit later but for now he needed to find medical help. After some searching he did come to find the medical area, it seemed as though a lot were going down between the gunfire and yelling. Not very medic-like the salesman would say. But he walked into the area looking at his good ol' buddy ol' pal Hershel. "HEY SPECIL NON-CUSTOMER YOU WOULDN'T HAPPEN TO BE ABLE TO HAVE ANYTHING THAT COULD FIX THIS WOULD YOU?!" He gestured to his bent nose. Jones @Yamperzzz @RirisStride1 @ProfSpacecakes @Attesa @Thatguyinastore</s> <\|message\|>Douglas Jay Falcon Captain Falcon opens his eyes only to look around to see everyone has gone "Oh shoot, everyone's gone.... Uuuuhh, I should probably get going before I start getting lost again. Getting lost is NOT fun." The pilot shakes Luthor's hand once again "Again, pleasure to meet you! You're the best at what you do" Captain Falcon remarks in a gruff voice "And whatever have you! Stay bald! Stay beautiful! See you later!" Captain Falcon pats Lex on the shoulder and wastes no time trying to retrace everyone elses steps, which lead him through a door "Hey guys, I apologize, I kinda zoned out for a second...Or two...Okay several but I'm here now! Sooo, what're we do-?" Captain Falcon is taken aback as he now finds himself in a completely different world space. He was in some sort of dystopian Victorian setting complete adorned with clocks and bleack, sickly skies over head "Welp! I'm must've gotten high somehow. Don't know how, but it's happened. And it's about as unnerving as I thought it would be...Oh!" Hits himself upside his helmet "Duh! I OBVIOUSLY went through the wrong door! No one sane would just continue through the wrong door! I am certainly sane! So, Imma leave and find everyone el-" Suddenly, anthropomorphic rabbits spring up from thin air and begin to attack the pilot "Oh my gosh! HAAAAAAAAA! I'M BEING ATTACKED! BY RABBIT PEOPLE! WHY RABBIT PEOPLE OF ALL THINGS?! WHAT IS GOING OOOOOOONNNN! AND WHY ARE YOU ATTACKING ME?! I WAS JUST ABOUT TO LEAAAAAAAVVVEEE! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLP! Wait...." Captain Falcon stands up as the rabbits continue to attack him, but now the pilot doesn't even seem to be bothered by them "What am I don't, letting these random rabbit mutants get the jump on me? I have fought a retarded Italian plumber, a gorilla that looks like Jimmy Neutron, a mute twink, an a elector-rat, a dinosaur with the world's biggest nose--" One of the rabbit people sock the pilot across the face "Hey, I'm trying to monologue here! Chill out!...Point is: Imma bounty hunter! I hunt people, dang it! And non-people too! And you." Captain Falcon catches two of the rabbit's fists "Are non-people.." The pilot casually tightens his grip on their fist, crushing them instantly. He then kicks the rabbit in front of him in the groin, a nasty squishing sound ensuing as a result as the rabbit falls over motionless. The pilot then kicks behind him, breaking the other rabbit's leg by the knee. With all the rabbits surrounding him incapacitated, Captain Falcon begins to take them all by the ear, tying them together and begins to spin himself and the rabbits around by the ear, continuing to pick up speed "So long, gay wabbits!" Captain Falcon responds in the best Italian accent he can muster as he lets go of the ears, letting the rabbits fly off into the sky. "And that takes care of that!" The pilot wipes his hands with a triumphant smile "Now what was I doing? Oh yea, I was leaving! Forget this place, I don't have time to be jumped by rabbit people...Who do I look like, Rayman?" Captain Falcon turns and prepares to leave from whence he came, only to find the door missing "Ofcouse. Ofcourse! OFCOURSE! Ofcourse it would be gone! Why wouldn't it be?! Just...! FFFFFFFFFFFFFF-Forward I go, I guess!" Captain Falcon grumbles angrily as he makes the journey to this madness inducing world he found himself in @TheElenaFisher@davefromdiscord@Second2Last@Kagebaka@Paper94[@anyone else on the first floor]</s>	<\|message\|>Samus Aran A sharp inhale caused Samus Aran to suddenly snap back to consciousness. One moment the bounty hunter was flying towards her mission objective - a space station orbiting a massive gas giant - to apprehend a space pirate remanent under the Galactic Federation's orders. Then she unexpectedly lost consciousness and blacked out momentarily, only to shortly awaken to find her ship spiraling out of control while plummeting towards a metropolitan skyline below! The bewildered bounty hunter had numerous questions coursing through her head at breakneck speed, desperately trying to make sense of the situation. Yet now was not the time to dwell on the matter when her life was once again on the line! Quickly Samus sat up and began scrolling around with the holographic gyrosphere with one hand, while her other pulled back on the throttle to force the ship's landing thrusters upwards to control her descent as much as she could. Her purple gunship wailed as smoke could be seen trailing from its left wing from bystanders on the ground. It was clear things weren't looking too good. And worse still, the landing thrusters refused to activate! Samus tried several times to activate them but to no avail. This was going to be a rough landing; and all she could do now was brace for impact. The ship was able to swerve past the tallest skyscrapers but her current trajectory wouldn't spare its damaged wing from scraping off one of them. Samus was jolted forward by the collision, as her ship span rapidly before crashing onto the street below. Sparks flew against the sickening screech of metal before the gunship slowly came to a grinding halt. --- With an audible groan, Samus rose her head before slowly getting to her feet. She hadn't experienced a crash-landing like this in awhile, although knowing her luck it was bound to happen again eventually. Trouble always seemed to have found her at the least opportune moments. Instinctually, she issued a quick scan of her armor to make sure everything was in place. And indeed her visor would report back negative. She was still in her Varia Suit with all the current upgrades she equipped prior to the mission. With her ship now compromised, the bounty hunter would have to search around for supplies - if not another way off this planet. At the very least Samus wouldn't have to search for any of her lost equipment. Yet she had a feeling that wherever she found herself in was far larger than she knew. She opened the emergency hatch on the ship's roof and proceeded climbed out, where she would first step foot upon this world. Taking in the sights of the metropolitan environment, she quickly realized that this planet felt familiar to her... Was this Earth? Samus hadn't stepped foot on the Galactic Federation's home world since her days in the academy; training alongside those born in the cradle of the human race. That was many years ago. But the more she observed her surroundings, the more alienated she felt all the same. It was a weird feeling; as if the Earth she stood on wasn't the Earth she knew. The buildings here were more primitive then she remembered; and she could hear sounds of unfamiliar origin echoing in the distance. Was Earth being invaded? Surely the Federation would've been the first to alert her if this was the case. But as far as she knew, Earth was protected by a massive defense fleet - ready to take down any alien invaders that dare attempt to wipe humanity off the intergalactic map. She needed answers. Leaving her ship behind, Samus made her way down the street to wherever fate would lead her...</s>
<\|description\|>Bruce Bailey Bruce Bailey, Blue Ranger Age: 17 DOB: May 28th, 2007 POB: Summit Point, West Virginia, United States Height: 6'7" Weight: 220 lbs Eyes: Blue Special Talents & Skills Capable mechanic Skilled welder Novice tinkerer Marksmanship(rifle, specifically) High tolerance for pain Scanned Lifeforms Blue Dragon Peregrine Falcon Rhino Powers & Abilities Blue Dragonfire Aura, feels cold to the touch as it absorbs ambient heat to store as power. High Speed Flight. The fastest of the rangers, however he requires time and distance to get up to speed. Thermal manipulation. Can move thermal energy around, though is not able to increase the amount of heat present. He can absorb heat as energy to power his flight. Weapons & Gear Blue Dragon Nanosuit (about the size of a belt buckle when compressed, rapidly spreads out and covers the entire body when activated) Blue Dragon Spear Peregrine Wings Dragon Zord Booster Mech (mechanical exosuit that further enhances power output) Biography Despite his father's best efforts, Bruce was born in the same town his parents were raised in. A small town in Appalachia without much going for it. His mother, Charlene, worked herself to the bone to put his father, Henry through college, and Henry was away at school when Bruce was born. As far as Henry was concerned, all of her efforts paid off, as he graduated with a degree in mechanical engineering, and found himself a decent job. Henry's work ethic was every bit as stringent as Charlene's, and it soon became apparent that his job didn't leave much energy for a wife and child. Charlene had been under the impression, as she slaved away years before, that the end result would be a happy family with good prospects. She got the family with good prospects right, but she was hardly happy, as she found being a stay at home mom stifling. When Henry got a job offer in Los Angeles, working in the design department of a major auto manufacturer, she simply didn't go with him. Bruce was nine at this time. Bruce had to become self sufficient at a young age, as his father barely even seemed to notice that Charlene wasn't still around to take care of their child. He tried taking an interest in his father's work, to try to get attention from him, and spent a lot of time on the internet learning about how cars function. By twelve, he had an impressive knowledge of vehicle maintenance and repair, as well as a love of cars that would last the rest of his life. And it worked, after a fashion. Henry had as little time as ever for his family, but when he was home, he started talking shop, and was happy to find that his son could follow along most of the time. At seventeen, Bruce was an ace student of Angel Grove High's auto shop(and took every other class with "shop" in the name, too), though often a below average student in subjects he was less interested in. His refusal to apply himself, along with his faint Appalachian accent, has led to him being seen by most of his classmates as a dullard. Even the ones in his best classes assume his skill with making and repairing things to be a fluke, or merely a savant-like affinity.</s> <\|message\|>Sa'Cha Harroea Zordon watched from the ship as each of the teenagers managed to find some way to fend off the threat, but what surprised him most was that they were willing to protect each other even though he could see one of them wasn't truly as connected with the others, yet even they managed to help keep the threat at bay. He smiled. Teenagers with a true heart to protect didn't come to his neck of the woods every day. This was indeed a rare treat. His eyes narrowed on Sa'Cha who was displaying a unique ability. It seemed he was already connected to the power source, or was there more to him than just surface? A loud ringing filled the area and the creatures stopped their attack, retreating back into the ship. Sa'Cha gasped holding his injured side, having stumbled during the fight and hitting a sharp rock. Zordon appeared at the entrance of the ship and slowly descended the long strip of stairs. He approached the gathered teens and looked at them closely. "I assure you that was merely a test and you are in no true danger here," he said, his eyes falling on Sa'Cha's injured side. "Here, let me mend that for you." Before Sa'Cha could object, nanites flew from Zordon's body and began to mend the wound. This was advanced technology and Sa'Cha gazed down at his wound as he watched the little pieces of tech make quick work of mending him before returning to their source. Sa'Cha looked between the collective and then focused on Zordon. "What kind of welcome was that? Those things nearly killed us." "No, they were merely testing you to see what kind of response you'd have. Trust me, I would not have allowed them to kill you. Although they are an alien race, they do understand your native tongue. Pardon my manners, let me introduce myself." Zordon looked at each of the teenagers assembled before him. "I am Zordon, and if I am not mistaken, I am looking at the next protectors of this world. The next Power Rangers." Sa'Cha's mind was swirling at the term used. His grandmother would always tell him tales of the protectors of the world and how they defeated evil throughout the years, each eventually retiring or worse. Had they been chosen to follow in the footsteps of so many legendary warriors? "Please, I will answer all questions, but first if you could follow me into the ship, everything will become clear." Zordon turned without a second of hesitation and moved towards the ship, moving up the long trail of stairs and vanishing back into the ship. Sa'Cha turned to the others unsure how to proceed. "Ummm, that was a lot to take in. Everyone alright?"</s> <\|message\|>Heath Underwood After a brief fist fight with the monster left Heath a bit out of breath, and a bit bruised he couldn't help but feel like this was all some sort of elaborate prank, or if things were really this weird? There was no way this was a dream too much pain made that clear, and on top of that the weird guy talking to them like they had been brought here and this wasn't just some weird ass exploration day out to explore some of Angel Grove was just icing on the cake. Even if he had been waiting for them why rough them up? Talking solves some shit you know. For Heath the moment he gave up rationalizing anything came when the nanobots helped him out, and even eased some of his notable pains from previous football related incidents. Fucking A man what the hell was even going on? "Look I'll follow you since anybody looking to actually hurt us wouldn't have healed us up so...i'll trust you. For now. I hope the explanation was worth the little scuffle though." Heath said as he made his way towards the ship initially ignoring the comment by Sa'cha. "Look I'm good and I appreciate the concern. but I don't want to risk keeping the guy with freaking alien body guards waiting. Come on we gotta go." Heath said as he made his way forward towards the ship.</s> <\|message\|>Bruce Bailey On later reflection, Bruce thought it would be nice if he had done something cool, or at least cursed at the monster or something. Instead, his first reaction was a kind of wordless scream of shock and fear, as Helia jumped in front of him. His screaming evolved into a lot of "Got dang," and "Whoa man!" as he picked up rocks from the ground, and began to hurl them over-hand at the guard creatures. He made a point to aim over Helia's shoulder, but he was a good deal taller than her and this wasn't difficult. After the first two rocks, Bruce realized that he was hiding from alien monsters behind his friend, and that there were two possible outcomes. One: they die, and the aliens kill Helia first to get to him. Two: they live, and he has to relive his cowardice when they discuss the event later. Both situations were just the pits, so Bruce, with a renewal of his wordless scream, threw one last rock at one of the aliens, and bolted to the side, scooping up a particularly large stone on his way. As he ran, he saw that the creature was following him, as he had hoped/feared, and with a mighty(sort of) yell, he charged it, and brought the stone down on it. He aimed for the head, but it managed to dodge around and take the blow on the shoulder. It was then that the chime sounded, and the creature, completely ignoring its wound and assailant, turned and left. Bruce very nearly threw the last rock at the being who later identified itself as Zordon, but by then he was confused enough to wait for it(him, he thought) to finish speaking. When it had gone, Bruce finally dropped the rock. "'M alive," he mumbled in response to Sa'Cha. "Dunno when Heath got here, but I reckon he's got a point. And in any case it ain't like we're leaving the cave any direction but this one, right?"</s> <\|message\|>Finley "Finn" Logan "OMG, Heath, you made it!" Finn clapped his hands excitedly at the sight of one of his friends on the football team. And then some creepy alien things marched off the ship, and started lunging towards the group, and soon a fight broke out. Finn looked to the left, and looked to the right. He was only a novice fighter, but he was a cheerleader! So, he let out a high pitched scream, ran towards one of the aliens, did a handspring, and managed to kick one of the aliens in the face. "Yay! I did it! Finn clapped his hands excitedly. But while Finn was celebrating, and alien unfurled it's claws, and slashed Finn on his side causing a bloody gash on Finn's side. "Ow! That hurt!" He managed to land a punch on that alien's face, but he was now clutching his side and wincing painfully. Then, the aliens suddenly stopped their assault, and what appeared to be a bald headed man stepped off the ship. He explained that this was all a test, and then sent out a bunch of nanites to fix whatever wounds they sustained during the fight, including Finn's own wound. "Neat! Finn exclaimed. Although Finn really wanted to know what they were being tested for. He then invited the group on to the ship where he would explain everything. This was becoming more and more like the cartoons Finn watched by the second, and Finn was actually excited about it. "Yeah, I'm fine now. But that alien scratchy thing hurt at the time… Anyway, OMG guys! We're gonna become superheroes. Let's gooooooooooooooo!" Finn happily started skipping up the stairs leading onto the ship as if this was a perfectly normal thing to happen.</s> <\|message\|>Sa'Cha Harroea ACCEPT THE POWER, ACCEPT THE RESPONSIBILITY! --- --- Sa'Cha listened as everyone responded to how they were feeling. It was safe to say that today couldn't get any more crazy. They'd just found a ship, been attacked by aliens, and now they were being invited into the ship by some being who healed them of their wounds using some sort of advanced technology. It wasn't strange to Sa'Cha as he hailed from a world of magic and beyond, but he was sure the others were on high alert after what had just happened and knew that he was in hot water once all of this was over. He sighed as they all seemed to move in unison towards the ship. He kept thinking about Tommy and what he would have done in this situation. He probably would have tried to help them all and protect them, but he was surprised how everyone held their own against the threat. "I need to contact my grandma," Sa'Cha thought out loud as he was the last to enter the ship. There wasn't time. As soon as they entered, the stairs began to pull into the ship and the door soon closed as they moved further into the bowels of the ship. Zordon led them to a large open area with six cylindrical vessels that housed what looked to be a rather interesting power suit. Each had a beautiful insignia on it representing the dragon that corresponded with the color. Zordon smiled as he turned to face them. "This is the command center. What if I told you that the world as you see it is not the truth? What if I told you that beyond the veil is a completely different world, a world full of danger, and what if I told you that you are the next in line to protect the world from threats both near and far. Through the years there have been different protectors, sworn to uphold justice and do what is necessary for the good of the universe, and I do believe it has finally time to choose again." Zordon looked at each of them and nodded his head. "I am sure each of you has many questions, so please, one at a time. Whoever would like to go first, please step forward."</s>	<\|message\|>Bruce Bailey Bruce climbed the steps and almost fell behind Sa'Cha as he watched the ramp rise and the hatch close. He thought vaguely that he should be concerned about that, but was too busy wondering what sort of mechanism did the work, as he couldn't see any pistons or motors(at least not the sort he recognized). "I need to contact my grandma," Sa'Cha didn't seem to be speaking to anyone in particular. "To get her permission to climb up in a alien ship?" Bruce asked, incredulous. Zordon basically told them that they were going to be super heroes, and kindly gave an opportunity to ask him questions. Presumably about their schedule, pay and benefits for the job he was offering. "How does your ship work?"</s>
<\|description\|>Sa'Cha Harroea "Embrace the song of the Siren. Fill the world with sound!" Age: 17 Gender: Male Height: 5'7" Weight: 153 lbs Voice: Sa'Cha's voice Theme: The Untamed OST Transformation: - His Mystic Sorcerer transformation occurs when he channels the arcane energies through his body and speaks the incantation. His control over the arcane art increases and he's more potent. He wields the Trident Staff in this transformation. - Although his Sorcerer transformation is great, when it fuses with his Ranger Suit, it looks slightly different from his teammates. There are emblems drawn on the front and back within a silver circle. These emblems are ancient sigils that allow for different powerups when unlocked and accessed. On the hand of the suit are two sigils that allow for greater mana control and protection. The blade is a weapon known as the Banshee's Scream, a deadly blade that absorbs the souls of its victims. This weapon can be combined with the Trident Staff to form a deadly combo. It can detach a smaller blade, as seen in the right hand, to use for more sudden needs. Scanned Lifeforms Black Opal Dragon Pangolin Qilin Zord/Mech: - Standing at an awe-striking 12 feet, the intense magical energy that flows through the mech allows for it to levitate and perform quick maneuvers. It can teleport and has immense psychic strength. Much more agile than other mechs due to its slender nature, though it lacks physical strength. Weapon: Mystical Trident Staff - Silent Form This beautifully crafted staff is forged from the souls of past Banshee Queens and the tears of the current Banshee Queen and was a gift to Udonna who passed it down to Sa'Cha. The staff is sentient and ensures Sa'Cha's safety at all costs. It helps him channel the arcane energies of the universe. One-touch of the blade can cut, and a cut from this weapon can cause hallucinations so strong they can cause someone to go mad. This has no effect on Sa'Cha. The weapon is resistant to fire and can only be broken by throwing it into the heart of a volcano. The crystal embedded in the blade is said to harbor the essence of its victims. When not in use the weapon is stored in a trident charm on a bracelet Sa'Cha wears. Mystic Trident Staff - Sacred Form --- --- Personality: Sa'Cha is kind when it comes to his friends and family. He can have a bit of a temper sometimes. He is cursed with the inability to hide his feelings. This sometimes gets him into a bit of trouble. He is strong-willed and determined. He is faithful and observant. He has been called playful and a perfectionist. When duty calls Sa'Cha ensures he is focused on the task at hand. He is calculating and strikes to bring fear to the hearts of his enemies. He protects, it's in his blood. He can be shy around someone he likes on a romantic level at first but as things progress he opens up more. Skills: Aside from his amazing cooking skills, his grandmother saw fit to have him train in martial arts to help with her secret cause. Over the years he has fine-tuned his reflexes, agility, and strength. He's an amazing gardener, and deadly with polearm weapons. Sa'Cha can speak Korean, English, and a little Spanish. Abilities: By tapping into the arcane energies of the world, Sa'Cha can transform into the Mystic Sorcerer. By speaking the words "Embrace the song of the Siren. Fill the world with sound" he is able to channel the power to allow his mana to fill. Though he is able to use magic before transforming, once he transforms, his magic is more potent. He excels in his arcane abilities and Udonna believes that even at his young age, he may surpass her. She has never seen a warrior who is able to tap into the arcana so fluidly and easily. History: Sa'Cha was left in the care of his great grandmother when his parents perished. The entire estate and all the wealth falls to him when he turns 21, but his great grandmother ensures he has access to whatever he needs. Regarding his parent's death, Sa'Cha was told at a young age that his parents didn't suffer and that the cause of their deaths was natural, but he has always been curious. Nonetheless, he followed the path his grandmother placed before him. She always gave him free will to do what he wanted, but he was all she had, and he had to make sure she was taken care of. At the age of 14, Sa'Cha came out to his grandmother that he was bisexual. His grandmother is his entire world. She'd taught him about the world of magic. She taught him how to brew potions strong enough to break the strongest of minds and subdue the bravest of souls. She'd taught him about the beauty in nature and how to give and take from it. He became a fully realized sorcerer by the age of 15. Recently, his grandmother experienced strong visions and moved them to a place known as Angel Grove. She didn't tell him what the visions were, but that he had a mission. He was to enroll in Angel Grove High, blend in and report anything out of the ordinary to her. As a Senior, he hopes to make his grandmother proud.</s> <\|message\|>Sa'Cha Harroea Zordon watched from the ship as each of the teenagers managed to find some way to fend off the threat, but what surprised him most was that they were willing to protect each other even though he could see one of them wasn't truly as connected with the others, yet even they managed to help keep the threat at bay. He smiled. Teenagers with a true heart to protect didn't come to his neck of the woods every day. This was indeed a rare treat. His eyes narrowed on Sa'Cha who was displaying a unique ability. It seemed he was already connected to the power source, or was there more to him than just surface? A loud ringing filled the area and the creatures stopped their attack, retreating back into the ship. Sa'Cha gasped holding his injured side, having stumbled during the fight and hitting a sharp rock. Zordon appeared at the entrance of the ship and slowly descended the long strip of stairs. He approached the gathered teens and looked at them closely. "I assure you that was merely a test and you are in no true danger here," he said, his eyes falling on Sa'Cha's injured side. "Here, let me mend that for you." Before Sa'Cha could object, nanites flew from Zordon's body and began to mend the wound. This was advanced technology and Sa'Cha gazed down at his wound as he watched the little pieces of tech make quick work of mending him before returning to their source. Sa'Cha looked between the collective and then focused on Zordon. "What kind of welcome was that? Those things nearly killed us." "No, they were merely testing you to see what kind of response you'd have. Trust me, I would not have allowed them to kill you. Although they are an alien race, they do understand your native tongue. Pardon my manners, let me introduce myself." Zordon looked at each of the teenagers assembled before him. "I am Zordon, and if I am not mistaken, I am looking at the next protectors of this world. The next Power Rangers." Sa'Cha's mind was swirling at the term used. His grandmother would always tell him tales of the protectors of the world and how they defeated evil throughout the years, each eventually retiring or worse. Had they been chosen to follow in the footsteps of so many legendary warriors? "Please, I will answer all questions, but first if you could follow me into the ship, everything will become clear." Zordon turned without a second of hesitation and moved towards the ship, moving up the long trail of stairs and vanishing back into the ship. Sa'Cha turned to the others unsure how to proceed. "Ummm, that was a lot to take in. Everyone alright?"</s> <\|message\|>Heath Underwood After a brief fist fight with the monster left Heath a bit out of breath, and a bit bruised he couldn't help but feel like this was all some sort of elaborate prank, or if things were really this weird? There was no way this was a dream too much pain made that clear, and on top of that the weird guy talking to them like they had been brought here and this wasn't just some weird ass exploration day out to explore some of Angel Grove was just icing on the cake. Even if he had been waiting for them why rough them up? Talking solves some shit you know. For Heath the moment he gave up rationalizing anything came when the nanobots helped him out, and even eased some of his notable pains from previous football related incidents. Fucking A man what the hell was even going on? "Look I'll follow you since anybody looking to actually hurt us wouldn't have healed us up so...i'll trust you. For now. I hope the explanation was worth the little scuffle though." Heath said as he made his way towards the ship initially ignoring the comment by Sa'cha. "Look I'm good and I appreciate the concern. but I don't want to risk keeping the guy with freaking alien body guards waiting. Come on we gotta go." Heath said as he made his way forward towards the ship.</s> <\|message\|>Bruce Bailey On later reflection, Bruce thought it would be nice if he had done something cool, or at least cursed at the monster or something. Instead, his first reaction was a kind of wordless scream of shock and fear, as Helia jumped in front of him. His screaming evolved into a lot of "Got dang," and "Whoa man!" as he picked up rocks from the ground, and began to hurl them over-hand at the guard creatures. He made a point to aim over Helia's shoulder, but he was a good deal taller than her and this wasn't difficult. After the first two rocks, Bruce realized that he was hiding from alien monsters behind his friend, and that there were two possible outcomes. One: they die, and the aliens kill Helia first to get to him. Two: they live, and he has to relive his cowardice when they discuss the event later. Both situations were just the pits, so Bruce, with a renewal of his wordless scream, threw one last rock at one of the aliens, and bolted to the side, scooping up a particularly large stone on his way. As he ran, he saw that the creature was following him, as he had hoped/feared, and with a mighty(sort of) yell, he charged it, and brought the stone down on it. He aimed for the head, but it managed to dodge around and take the blow on the shoulder. It was then that the chime sounded, and the creature, completely ignoring its wound and assailant, turned and left. Bruce very nearly threw the last rock at the being who later identified itself as Zordon, but by then he was confused enough to wait for it(him, he thought) to finish speaking. When it had gone, Bruce finally dropped the rock. "'M alive," he mumbled in response to Sa'Cha. "Dunno when Heath got here, but I reckon he's got a point. And in any case it ain't like we're leaving the cave any direction but this one, right?"</s> <\|message\|>Finley "Finn" Logan "OMG, Heath, you made it!" Finn clapped his hands excitedly at the sight of one of his friends on the football team. And then some creepy alien things marched off the ship, and started lunging towards the group, and soon a fight broke out. Finn looked to the left, and looked to the right. He was only a novice fighter, but he was a cheerleader! So, he let out a high pitched scream, ran towards one of the aliens, did a handspring, and managed to kick one of the aliens in the face. "Yay! I did it! Finn clapped his hands excitedly. But while Finn was celebrating, and alien unfurled it's claws, and slashed Finn on his side causing a bloody gash on Finn's side. "Ow! That hurt!" He managed to land a punch on that alien's face, but he was now clutching his side and wincing painfully. Then, the aliens suddenly stopped their assault, and what appeared to be a bald headed man stepped off the ship. He explained that this was all a test, and then sent out a bunch of nanites to fix whatever wounds they sustained during the fight, including Finn's own wound. "Neat! Finn exclaimed. Although Finn really wanted to know what they were being tested for. He then invited the group on to the ship where he would explain everything. This was becoming more and more like the cartoons Finn watched by the second, and Finn was actually excited about it. "Yeah, I'm fine now. But that alien scratchy thing hurt at the time… Anyway, OMG guys! We're gonna become superheroes. Let's gooooooooooooooo!" Finn happily started skipping up the stairs leading onto the ship as if this was a perfectly normal thing to happen.</s>	<\|message\|>Sa'Cha Harroea ACCEPT THE POWER, ACCEPT THE RESPONSIBILITY! --- --- Sa'Cha listened as everyone responded to how they were feeling. It was safe to say that today couldn't get any more crazy. They'd just found a ship, been attacked by aliens, and now they were being invited into the ship by some being who healed them of their wounds using some sort of advanced technology. It wasn't strange to Sa'Cha as he hailed from a world of magic and beyond, but he was sure the others were on high alert after what had just happened and knew that he was in hot water once all of this was over. He sighed as they all seemed to move in unison towards the ship. He kept thinking about Tommy and what he would have done in this situation. He probably would have tried to help them all and protect them, but he was surprised how everyone held their own against the threat. "I need to contact my grandma," Sa'Cha thought out loud as he was the last to enter the ship. There wasn't time. As soon as they entered, the stairs began to pull into the ship and the door soon closed as they moved further into the bowels of the ship. Zordon led them to a large open area with six cylindrical vessels that housed what looked to be a rather interesting power suit. Each had a beautiful insignia on it representing the dragon that corresponded with the color. Zordon smiled as he turned to face them. "This is the command center. What if I told you that the world as you see it is not the truth? What if I told you that beyond the veil is a completely different world, a world full of danger, and what if I told you that you are the next in line to protect the world from threats both near and far. Through the years there have been different protectors, sworn to uphold justice and do what is necessary for the good of the universe, and I do believe it has finally time to choose again." Zordon looked at each of them and nodded his head. "I am sure each of you has many questions, so please, one at a time. Whoever would like to go first, please step forward."</s>
<\|description\|>Unpronounceable in human tongue. Known Aliases Kailani Age Unknown, but appearance-wise late teens. Appearance There are two sides to Kailani's appearance, the more common one around Project Borehole being an incredibly small, unassuming young girl. Standing at a whole 4'11'', Kailani is deceptively fragile looking. She has rich dark brown hair that goes to mid back - though is usually pulled up in some capacity-, and tawny, light-brown skin with honey eyes. She has a fondness for thick cardigans and bright colors, but rarely gets access to them. Of course, her nature can't be entirely hidden even in this form. Despite its small stature, Kailani's form is incredibly heavy; easily hundreds of pounds densely packed into what looks like little more than a young girl. The second tell is the most subtle, as there's an ever-present hunger that lingers in her gaze. These oddities are entirely down to what Kailani actually is, which isn't human. Her species has been given the common name Devourer, a monstrous alien with never-ending hunger. Her true form is comparable to a full-size SUV, and just as heavy if not more. With thick purple plates along the sides and back, two large clawed arms, and a slavering mouth of teeth that can crush through anything a Devourer is a tank of a creature. In this form Kailani speaks in equal parts growling, chittering, and low pitches unheard to the human ear. Psyche Profile In many ways, Kailani could easily be described as a puppy. Excitable, curious, and hasn't quite learned the nuance of what is and isn't a chew toy. She is incredibly upbeat, often sporting a toothy grin and bright eyes, not shying away from even the most dangerous of beings with questions and chatter. Her own danger comes from the fact that though she appears fascinated by humans, and when properly enriched can even seem harmless - aside from talking your ear off-, Kailani is always hungry. Given the opportunity, she can and will eat even those that have bonded with her - though she seems to prefer other sources if given a choice between the two. With no choice, there isn't a shred of hesitation or regret. She has no moral backing when it comes to her own needs, be it hunger or plain curiosity. Speaking of, it's a good idea to keep an eye on her at all times considering that 'eating' is her usual way of exploring or discovering something she's curious about. Background It was a year and a half ago that Kailani's carnage was first discovered. At first, it was assumed that a small meteor had hit one of the smaller Hawaiian Islands in the middle of the night, nothing more than a write away for excited space enthusiasts in the rumble of the impact. Within eight hours, the nearest town greeted the dawn to families gone, buildings burrowed though, and a monster excitedly bounding from building to building to break it open like a demented Kinder Surprise. To make things even more convoluted, when confronted by a superhero she couldn't just chew through, Kailani's form melded and morphed into what seemed to just be a happy girl, blood splattered across her lower face and fingers as she excitedly chittered and asked what they were made of. Though eventually contained, Kailani's arrival was marked with blood and destruction. Truly, it seemed she didn't even understand what was wrong. She was hungry, and so she ate. She was curious, and so she ate. When superheroes traced the path back, they found the crater she must've arrived in, and there had to have been something that encapsulated her considering the miniscule pieces of a white plastic-like material. Predictably, it seems Kailani awoke from her sleep and promptly ate her way out of the pod. Then the rest of it. Interrogations were an exercise in futility. Kailani appeared to be a very young Devourer, speaking of being born with dozens of siblings deep in the crust of their planet, and ending with only three of them left after the strong feasted on the weak. Trying to get any information about her planet resulted in descriptions of tastes, textures, and smells - even how she ended up on Earth deviated from talk of being transported to a new home right to how she likes how the 'human' bones crunch and have sauce in the middle of them. Though they did get quite a bit of information about her own species, Kailani didn't seem to have satisfactory answers to anything outside of that. Eventually the superhero that stopped her offered to take her in. That ended poorly, when she ended up eating the arm of his other sidekick when told not to damage his base. In truth, it's a combination of her own danger and the fact that she's not a very helpful subject that ended up with Kailani in Thornwood. After all, it had the facilities to keep her in line and allowed further study while keeping others away from her gaping maw. Maybe it was even a bit of green lining the pockets of others, as surely an alien that could utilize changing their very DNA would be of interest to certain studies conducted there. Skills, Talents and Learning Eating! … Wait, that's not a skill? In truth, considering her short time on Earth Kailani's most useful aspects are her powers rather than any learned skills. That being said, she can speak English and Hawaiian, and knows how to operate small boats for all its worth. Power(s) and Capabilities Black Hole: Kailani's race appears to be able to consume anything that's handed to her. Solids, liquids, acids, rocks, bones, fresh, rotten - she can digest absolutely everything, as well as bite through everything with a combination of powerful jaws and strangely coated teeth, not to mention a reinforced throat. Adaption: This alien is also extremely adaptable to her environment, as she has to be in order to eat whatever is in it. When she eats enough of a species she can take on qualities of it in shapeshifting - but not specific ones she ate, rather just a variation of the race. As well as that, in a unique quirk it appears her very lungs will adapt to her environment to purify the air; on earth she breathes in carbon monoxide and exhales oxygen due to adapting to humans rather than something like trees. Further, her body destroys harmful pathogens she inhales. Power Limits Needs to eat a large amount of a species to adapt to it, and though Kailani can eat enough that her other needs or wants will become apparent, she's never truly sated. Known Vulnerabilities Kailani's biggest flaw is always going to relate directly back to her hunger. Due to her incredibly ravenous appetite, her body will begin to eat itself in as little as six hours without food, and she would die after only two days without sustenance. Further, though her true form is built like a tank, she is particularly vulnerable to mental and elemental powers. In her human shapeshift she isn't nearly as armored, and a normal bullet would easily pierce her skin - the only exception appears to be the inside of her mouth and throat. Motives Hunger, hunger, hunger. Kailani longs to no longer be on this forced diet, yet even more than that she longs for something different than this place she has been confined to. When she first landed there were strange plants, small creatures, the smell of salt, the taste of blood and marrow and glass and plastic. Now it's all grey walls and 'portions'. Recommended Containment Procedures Keeping Kailani in her human form is key. She's to be outfitted with a collar and 'muzzle', the latter to keep her from simply eating anything in her way, the former to shock her into unconsciousness should she try to change forms. Food intake is limited and has to be worked around the muzzle - she's not meant to be starved, but by keeping her on strict portions she's less energetic and more malleable with promises of food. As an aside, she doesn't need to be fed typical food and can be used to dispose of garbage, plastics, or rot. Notes Tends to describe things in taste and texture rather than anything useful. Her favorite Earth food is batteries.</s> <\|message\|>Janet Bridgerson In the course of her career, if you could call it that, Janet had many different escape routes: through the sea, flying over mountains, hiding in dens of ill repute. None were so brazen as appearing in broad daylight, in front of dozens of panicked civilians, surrounded by other villains covered in blood and in the middle of an amusement park. Janet wondered if this was some kind of genius maneuver, beyond her own knowledge and experience, or not. Oh well. She was free, for the moment. Her longest stay in prison thus far, 25 years (give or take some months), had finally come to a close. Freedom, for whatever value it had, was secure for just a minute. With the rest of her fellow escapees being gravely wounded, cowering over those wounded people rather than leaving them behind, already leaving the grounds or concerning themselves with gluttony, it was clear that she needed to act fast if she wanted this freedom to be anything but momentary. Two others, one young and pierced, and the other crooked-toothed and finely dressed, walked over to Kailani. Inroads had already been made here, so Janet was ready to make use of them. "Excuse me." She wheeled over to the three, ignoring Kailani's violent consumption of an entire stand that had probably been sitting in the park for decades. A piece of pretzel slapped against her pedestal's side and slid off. "I'm afraid I'm behind on current events. If any of you are the orchestrators of today's exfiltration, then thank you, but let's skip further gratitude." "You would most likely know me as Professor Perfection. My reputation should precede me. If it does, you should know that I'm more than capable of getting us back on our collective feet, given time." She looked up at Mr. Q, specifically. The wounded man's disappearance, his "entourage" going alongside him, would speed up her timetable at least. "I do not have any inkling about what your next move will be. However," she glanced to the side at Abby, "I can give you somewhere to operate out of for the time being. I doubt any of you have contingency bases pre-prepared. What I lack is a means of transportation."</s> <\|message\|>Randolph Ward When Randolph recovered from whatever condition afflicted him, he found himself alone. Well, unless you count the assortment of flesh and limbs lacking any owner. Randolph himself was left with confusion, an intense hunger, and a cold sticky sensation in his throat. This feeling slowly trudged up and out his throat, making it difficult to breath, almost choking him. He attempted to expel the mass with a few forceful coughs, and after a few minutes a inky formless mass was thrusted out of his mouth and onto the wall in front of him, splattering the surface with a sizzle. It might have been a vestige of whatever afflicted him that confuddled his eyes, but the mass seemed to twitch with intent and dissolve the wall like it was acidic, or perhaps eating the wall. But the ghoul did not dwell on this, vaguely remembering he was asked to be somewhere…. Or do… something. There were others he was with, but where were they? Where was anyone? A cursory exploration showed the aftermath of the escape has thrust the facility into a state of disarray. Scenes of destruction were common, with doors torn or ruptured in various ways, a mass of recently dead bodies, and few working sources of light. Randolph found the one elevator in the whole place, that he knew of, seemed to be either disabled or destroyed, he was not sure but either way it was not working. Which would be bad for anyone trying to leave unless they had another way out, and with the state of the facility Randolph could burrow his way to the surface. Nothing left for him anyway, as he was either left behind or forgotten so there is no where to go but up. First though, Randolph burrowed a few miles away before going up, he had no way of knowing what was directly above him and it be unfortunate to be recaptured so soon. After about half an hour, he broke through the ground and was blindsided when he discovered it was in the middle of the day and in a crowded location. Coincidentally, he emerged near the other escapees though he was not concerned with them at the moment. Randolph's senses were assailed by an assortment of lights and sounds that he detested. At least in the prison it was relatively dark and quiet most of the time. He sure as hell was not going back there, but he was going back in the ground for a while. Plus, he was famished, and was certain there would be a cemetery or graveyard or at least a dead body buried in the woods or something nearby. If any of the others cared or needed him, they should know where to find him.</s>	<\|message\|>Unpronounceable in human tongue. The scents were delicious, the paint chips were delicious, the salt was delicious, everything was delicious! Not as good as batteries though. Kailani was having a ball devouring the pretzel stand. Not just the dough - in fact, that seemed to be her least favorite part - but just plain eating the stand itself. Once the larger pieces were done her tongue scraped along the ground, gathering bits of salt, splinters of wood, and chips of paint into one glorious left-over mouthful. This was amazing! The fresh air, the sounds, the lights! There were loud voices, too. The Devourer lifted her head, examining the people that were watching from farther away. Some were slowly beginning to approach, some were on their little phones. It was just like in the prison. People grouped up like a smorgasbord, a line of little treats to go right in her mouth. Drool dripped from her mouth at the thought, and she took a step forward- "Skree?" The sound of her shorthand name drew the alien's attention, the large being twisting to look behind her. There was Abby, introduced what seemed like only minutes before, offering to go somewhere. For a moment, Kailani just twisted to look between the girl and the crowd, chittering in a low, thoughtful tone. Then The Janet was also talking to Abby and the strange man who looked like he tasted like aluminum and mentioned she needed transportation. Oh! Kailani could do that! She could do that and get fed, and be safe as Abby was offering! Erupting into a tidal wave of excited shrieks and chitters, Kailani jumped in place in an alien version of 'tappy paws', head bobbing in a nod. Then she abruptly slammed a hand into the concrete beneath them and began eating the bits of concrete and dirt beneath it. Damn, it was good to be free.</s>
<\|description\|>Alfred Gunther Known Aliases: Frostbite Age: 28 Appearance: Standing at 5'9" and weighing 60 kilograms, Alfred Gunther appears to be an unassuming man that could hardly be suspected of being a non-mundane. He naturally has black hair, and strands of grey could be seen if someone looks closely enough. Psyche Profile: Alfred seems to be tranquil in nature, as he rarely if ever raises his voice to… well, anyone. He has a cheerful disposition, and that's not really that far from the truth. His records indicate that he really was, for the most part, a model citizen, with the incidents that landed him into the Borehole being the only odd ones out. Even when transformed as the Cryo Phoenix, he retains this personality. It is indeed strange to see such a creature of terrifying power to appear to be so friendly, though whether or not this is merely a ruse is yet to be seen. Alfred expresses regret over the devastation that his other half is capable of, but as his memory is intact, he had stated that the things he did as the Cryo Phoenix were fully justified, if not done in a far less than subtle way. Perhaps this can be explained by the theory that the consciousnesses of Frostbite and Alfred Gunther have merged into a single psychic entity within his mind. Historical records indicate that the Frostbite is a primordial entity that had been imprisoned and manipulated for centuries, being freed when it passed into Alfred Gunther. The synchronicity of their minds remains unexplained, but this merger disrupted whatever mental chains that its controllers once had. Alfred Gunther/Frostbite now seek bloody retribution for the continual anguish that it suffered. It is reasonable to assume that those members of that 'Cabal' are the only beings that he would be irrevocably hostile to. Irritation may briefly capture Gunther should other prisoners or the guards intentionally aggravate him, but he would usually dismiss these later on. Despite this apparent selectiveness, Frostbite has no qualms about collateral damage. Background: According to records, Alfred Gunther hailed from a lower middle income family in Juneau, Alaska. He is the only child of Sandra Poltar Gunther and William Gunther, and was described to have been 'cherished and spoiled rotten'. William worked as a miner that secretly was bonded to the [REDACTED] and was one of the non-mundane, while Sandra was a nurse. High costs of living ensured that their funds were always short and barely sufficient to provide for everything they needed. As such, everyday was yet another period of time in which the fate of their home would be decided. He had no siblings, with his one potential younger brother dying from a miscarriage. He did have friends, but it wasn't enough to fill the void. He would later go on to finish university through the aid of a scholarship, and went to a career of pharmaceutical research. When Alfred was around 27 years old, he appeared to have contracted a serious illness. Hospital records from Juneau indicate that it was late stage leukemia, having gone undetected over the years until it began seriously affecting his life. There was little hope of curing it so late, and his life was almost certain to end within several months, his father William turned to desperate measures just to save his life. He implored that the [REDACTED] go and save him. Sandra, being unaware of this arrangement, had all but accepted that their only child was going to be gone too soon. Until he wasn't. When Alfred was taken out for a walk in the patch of woodland near the hospital, a phoenix of ice emerged from the forest, initially frightening hikers and campers in the area but eventually disappearing into the night. Sandra thought that Alfred's recovery was a miracle. William, and to a lesser extent, Alfred himself knew what really happened: an eldritch creature, a being of primal winter, had come to inhabit his body and mind like his father before him. He had been given new life, and perhaps a life of ageless immortality for as long as the Frostbite is bound to him, but at what cost? Such eldritch action would not go unnoticed. After around a year, a cabal of sorcerers, the ones that had granted William the power of the Frostbite decades prior in exchange for saving his life, were enraged to learn the creature they created had transferred into a new host, one they couldn't control. As such, they sent threats of annihilation, and gave a short deadline before they carried them out. The one thing they didn't expect, however, was for the Frostbite to be utterly intertwined into the mind of Alfred Gunther to the point that it was him, and he was it. Memories of the other treacherous deeds that the Cabal flowed through his mind. He even saw how they operated in collusion with other groups. So, a day after they had sent their missives of destruction, the Cryophoenix attacked the city hall where they were secretly ruling as Juneau's lords, utterly destroying them, save for one, who managed to escape through a portal. That is not what the world thought, however. From the perspective of any good citizen, this was an indiscriminate attack against the long serving city council that had done good to Juneau. And so, the government tracked down Frostbite and apprehended him. The lone survivor of the Cabal propped up additional charges, such as the trafficking of illegal narcotics, black market trading, and the committing of unsolved murders that the Cabal had actually committed in protecting their position. These all went through, of course, and Alfred Gunther was sent to the Borehole… Skills, Talents and Learning: For most of his life, he had relegated himself to staying behind a desk, and as such, wouldn't appear to be physically intimidating as a human, though he did have self defense class years prior. When transformed, he appears to have a far more innate understanding of combat whether at range or in close quarters, and would consistently use the environment to aid himself. He was a pharmacist; however, Alfred doubts that any skills learned as one would be beneficial in any escape attempt. Power(s) and Capabilities: Cyro Phoenix Transformation: Alfred has the ability to turn into a Frost Phoenix with a body made from supernatural ice at will. The Phoenix itself is about the same height as he is as a human, bearing a wingspan of around 10 feet wide at maximum. The ice that comprises this form is of eldritch nature, being strangely resistant against small arms fire and sharp weapons. The wings each have a single claw that can easily deal painful wounds to an unprotected person. Transforming into the Frost Phoenix essentially atomizes and reforms his body; as such, injuries sustained as a human are removed upon transformation. Taking injuries whilst human will trigger transformation as a form of subconscious defence mechanism. Cryokinesis In the Frost Phoenix state, he is able to breath conical blasts of freezing wind at close to medium ranges, rapidly draining the kinetic and heat energy of targets caught in the attack to the point that they could be turned into frozen popsicles. In addition, his presence exudes a cold zone with a radius of three meters, causing temperatures to gradually drop to -5° C unless counteracted by a heat factor within that zone. As a human, Alfred is able to create and manipulate ice into whatever shape he wishes, though this ice isn't the supernatural variant that his transformed state is composed of. Since his cryokinetic ability in his human state is rather weak and incapable of ever killing anyone, he uses his cryokinesis to make pretty ice sculptures. Power Limits: Alfred's abilities appear to lack reach; in order to freeze any hostile entities, he has to close the distance of at least seven feet. In addition, his cryokinetic powers can be counteracted through insulating materials and heat based powers/weaponry. The transformation into a Cryo Phoenix is not instant, taking around 10 seconds to complete. As such, nearby guards would be able to respond to it using a taser to cut the transformation short. Known Vulnerabilities: The Frost Phoenix, while capable of maintaining an extremely cold internal temperature, can be overwhelmed by consistent application of intense heat and forced into a catatonic state, if not simply transforming back into a human form. In addition to intense heat, Cyro Phoenix form appears to be vulnerable against sonic based attacks as well as extreme blunt force. Motives: Alfred is driven to reveal the treachery of the Cabal of Juneau and their cohorts, though his subconscious directs him to enact vengeance upon them for ancient wrongs. That is the one thing he wishes to do if he is freed, and nothing or no one will get in the way. Noble intentions? Perhaps. Methods? Uncompromising annihilation. Collateral be damned. Level: Threat level, as defined by the Borehole's parameters. I will assign this to your character. Recommended Containment Procedures: Alfred is to be kept inside a cell lined with insulated walls that are lined with thermal projectors. Heating kicks off whenever he attempts to freeze his way out of the cell. When outside the cell, Alfred is to have an ankle-strapped power dampener to prevent him from transforming while away from the containment systems of his cell. Notes: He insists on having spicy noodles as part of his lunch.</s> <\|message\|>Abigail "Abby" Zebrowski @Klumsykrow357 @Restalaan @Perse @KaelRavenheart @SrslyAnArtist@The Man Emperor@Blazion @SrslyAnArtist Abigail "Atom Bomb" Zebrowski Abby was happy to have the others watching her back, she was sure she would not get past the heavy guards on her own. The only problem is that there seemed to be more of them than before, "Kail theirs more food for ya, clear a path for us pretty please." Pointing towards the armed guards blocking the elevator. Being licked by the giant alien dog, The punk girl had a feeling that Kail considered her a friend. Abby was not sure if she could be as effective as the others, her powers would not be as effective as the others. Her confidence seemed to deflate a little, She didn't think that she would not be able to keep up with the others. But Abby felt a sudden rush of energy surging throughout her body. Turning her head around wondering where the radiation came from. She was sure as hell thankful because now she could help the group with fighting the guards. Her eyes started to turn a bright shade of green, her whole body emitting a good amount of radiation. If she could compare this feeling it would be like getting a hit of heroin. "Shame I can't thank whoever gave me that boost." Her hands started to glow, shooting the light green balls towards the guards. Causing the guards that were hit to roll around on the floor, some of them removing their helmets revealing their blistered and burnt faces. Fighting her way through the guards and towards the elevator. Kicking the faces of the guards that were coming towards her, Using the boost of power to disable their attackers. Letting the others clean up the weakened guards. Drop kicking one of the guards, quickly getting back onto her feet. Grabbing a guard's arm, disarming him and taking the pistol from his hands. Pointing it at another guard that was trying to attack Iris. Hesitating for a moment, her hands were shaking violently. She could hear a voice speaking to her, "Do it, if you don't your friend is going to die." Quickly looking around wondering where the voice was coming from. Turning her attention back to the guards attacking Iris, she pulled the trigger popping a few shots into them. Stunning him enough for Iris to finish him off. Abby was still shaking from firing the gun at the guard, taking another human life. "Your a killer Abby, you enjoy watching the light leave your victim's eyes. If you don't act and defend yourself, your gonna end up as a corpse." The voice seemed to be happening in her head. "Who is this? Where are ya?" Screaming out loud wondering if it was Mr.Q talking to her. "I'm not who you think I am, I'm just a friend watching your back. You better head to the elevator, or your gonna be DEAD LAST." This made Abby snap back to what was going on around her. Quickly picking up another pistol that was on the ground, duel wielding both pistols. Firing them at the guards while moving towards the elevator. Of course because of her inexperience, she missed most of her shots. Throwing the empty pistols at the guards, going back to using her powers. Firing those deadly green bolts of radiation at the heavily armed men. Running towards one of the guards, twisting the man's arm breaking it with a loud SNAP. She was no killer, she was not like the others. The people that Abby killed were all accidents. But then again she was still a murderer, even if it was an accident she still took a person's life. Running over towards the elevator, once the way was clear by her group."We wait for the others, I'm not gonna leave anyone behind." She said to Körbl, holding the door for the others to join her.</s> <\|message\|>Körbl Meier @TheRedWatcher @Klumsykrow357 @Perse @KaelRavenheart @SrslyAnArtist@The Man Emperor@Blazion @SrslyAnArtist Hmph. Seeing multiple people getting into the lift and taking their time, it was like seeing an anthive being open forcefully by a shovel. So many inmates, prisoners, and guards. Fighting desperately for their freedom. That kind of raw fight, where everything is on the line. It never gets tiring to see it. Then as Abby finally went inside and he joining her side, they were joined by others as the level that they're on will finally be traversed. Still, who knows how many levels are there left? Then someone apparently dropped right on top of their lift, one that had him instantly looked up and readied to fight but there was no hostile intent. Opening itself and with someone armed to the teeth as they deposited many weapons, Körbl eyes looked and sighted a sword. "Can I have one of those?"Körbl pointed to a Katana. It was no messer and he had never really utilized these before but it was better than nothing.</s>	<\|message\|>Alfred Gunther Alfred Gunther/The Frostbite Never One... Without the Other Frostbite quickly flew in from the hallway, his path trailing with a cold aftermath of frost and snow. The Phoenix's eyes didn't blink at the grisly sights to both his left and right; perhaps this is because he was a creature of such primordial age, existing since before civilization had even risen in the earliest cradles of humanity. Short lived human lives were just numbers to it by now, the comprehension of the Frostbite and its brethren far beyond the ken of mere mortals. However, with those it chooses, to the men and women that he and the rest of the kind dare bind themselves to, they achieve an eternal mutual understanding, an intertwining of thoughts and emotions so deep that they could be said to be one being with two minds. The rest of those that stood in the way of the Frost Phoenix's freedom, however, will be made into history, though their names will be forgotten in the next centuries. "Before you ask, no, I'm not reverting. Not yet," Frostbite simply said as he folded his cold wings closer to his icy body the same way any other bird would. "Now where are the rest? If a league of superheroes come here before we can scatter into the four winds of the Earth, we're screwed."</s>
<\|description\|>Körbl Meier Known Aliases: Messer, Blatt Meister, that fucking loony with a hardon for swords (Courtesy of the Brooklyn Police Commissioner). Appearance: A man that's into his late twenties with blonde short hair with his hair line past the eyes, giving the impression his eyes are covered. Standing at 181 cm with a wiry but incredibly toned body. Clean-shaven before but sporting a short beard now due to his imprisonment. A normal-looking prisoner that would've fit in most heavy prison, if one ignore that his hands are forever cuffed together alongside a heavy chain ball to each of his ankles. A single one nearing 250 KG, totaling to 500 kg pieces of metal being dragged by him. Psyche Profile: Remarkably well-behaved, straight-forward, and taciturn compared to the other rowdy prisoners but the warden knows better due to his background. Prisoners that are strong, or decent enough for Meier standards are often sought and challenged by him. Solely for the thrills or overcoming himself to be stronger. Five or four inmates that lacked the sense to refuse were demolished brutally, since then, not many dared to take upon his challenge and tried to stay away. This is the most problematic aspect of Meier, even before his imprisonment, Meier continued this streak of violence all across Europe, then Asia, before finally being arrested in New York City. All of it followed the same pattern, fight after fight, ranging from gangsters, mafias, local enforcement, assassins, army, guerillas and even super-heroes. A sole dedication, perhaps even insanity, to seek nothing but strength. Background: Körbl Meier was born and raised in Germany, Dinkelsbühl, into a small family with him being the only son. An odd, perhaps fate or coincidence, was that Meier family line was blessed with a wisp of power from gods, or aliens, perhaps one or the other. Regardless of its source, it granted Meier an increase of physical prowess and capabilities to recuperate from his wounds much faster. Nothing as fantastical as other villains or heroes that could outright regenerate a limb, Meier in comparison was still able to recover much faster compared to normal humans. This was what allowed his father to be a teacher of historical sword fighting techniques. One that tried to stay true to its roots for practical combat, and had seen some limited uses amongst the army for a way to suppress and restrain others. Studying it from young by his watchful and earnest father, Meier took to it like fish to water. At a young age, he was close to rivaling his father. Yet what was the point of the art dedicated to war without war? This gnawed at Meier, eating him inside out until it all came to a point where Meier slew a gangster that held a gun, threatening to shoot him and a local shop owner in the middle of attempted larceny. Using nothing but a knife, Meier slice the gangster in half. It took barely any effort for him to end a life but the overwhelming sensation of victory, triumph, and enjoyment was...liberating. Since then, Meier left his home behind to seek out nothing but ways to test himself with his sword and body. Each one feeding into his desire to hone himself to become stronger, faster, more skilled. To reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship and beyond. Europe, Asia, and then America, it all came to a point where he was bested by a far stronger hero that overpowered him and broke his swords as well. Despite this defeat, Meier never stopped looking outside of the world. Hoping one day for another rematch. After all, he finally found the challenge he so wanted. Why would he stop now? Skills, Talents and Learning: His numerous brush with opponents with guns, blade, blunt weapons, rods, and rare high-tech weapon had given Meier a strong sense of survival instinct, reflexes and instinct. Capable of wielding the small humble messer, to the two handed ones. Epees, falchion, rapier, zweihanders. Even mundane weapons like the small box-cutter blade, butterfly and kitchen knife in Meier's hands turn into a deadly instrument. If not because of his villainous career, he would've been the undisputed sword champion for decades to come. Power(s) and Capabilities: Demi-god or Terrestrial constitution: Meier body was much stronger than with no muscular loss and allowing him to push it beyond the limits. He had went from a regular human to being able to tussle with low-ranking super-heroes easily, combined with limited self-regeneration that always keeps his body to its peak. This elevated Meier speed and strength to the point anyone outside of superheroes often be beaten easily. Even mid-tier heroes had to be wary of Meier physical power before taking account of his sword capabilities. Power Limits: Despite this seemingly unending growth, it's still a slow climb and further efforts to push past his limits had been slow. He had been at a plateau for years before his defeat, hence why he had to fight someone that was way beyond his power. Experts estimated that it would've taken twenty years or longer to push past his current body. Keeping him at a known level at least for now barring an intense fight that pushes Meier over the edge that his body improves itself. Known Vulnerabilities: Tear/stun/flash grenade, sleeping gas, tranquilizers, poison, chemical or biological attack all work well on Meier as despite his strength and speed, he is still very vulnerable to attacks to the senses. Restraining him, while requiring many personnel sacrifices, electrocution and cables, works just as well. Motives: To once again fight the hero that defeated him and stand at the pinnacle of swordsmanship. After wading through so much blood, bodies and bones, he had finally found the high peaks of superheroes and supervillains. That there are still bigger fishes that he can fry. There's no way he'll sit by and rot. Perhaps he'll die in the process ignobly, chasing a fool's dream but for Miere, it was more than worth it to break free from this cage. Level: Recommended Containment Procedures: - Do not allow any objects within subject that can be used as weapon. - increase weight of cuffs and ball periodically before the body can adapt to it. -Inmates of known strength, combat or myriad abilities are to never come in contact with subject. Last altercation with another inmate had occurred and ended within less than a second. Weaker subjects are allowed but still under heavy observation, guards with nets, fast acting tranquilizers, tasers should be close by. - His cell are to be flooded with gas immediately should subject attempt escape -There are no keys for subject cuffs, it's to be rivetted and locked in place by welding to restrain arm movement. Notes: Subject is known to read plenty of books and likes to paint. Only known time where subject is extremely cooperative with the guards and warden to gain access to painting supplies. Everything is to be tallied and check at the end.</s> <\|message\|>John Doe (Only ever referred to as such on documentation. Staff, face-to-face, typically just call him Charon) --- --- A frown stretched across Charon's features as he locked eyes with the physically fit yet no less scraggly looking blonde man. Time seemed to stand still for Charon as he watched the man sit at the same table he'd been assigned to. He knew this one. Körbl. One of the ones his implant had been tested on without success. Also one of the inmates he had been kept from interacting with the most. Likely due to the fact that were the two to engage the results may well be catastrophic for the Asylum. Now that the implant had been successfully applied however, perhaps the staff wanted to test how much they could trust it to reign Charon in. 'Awful lot of faith.' Charon mused to himself. His thoughts of tactics and violence and how to debilitate everyone in his immediate vicinity were interrupted. A cheerful, somewhat annoying voice rang out amongst the conversations happening around the table. Aimed directly at him. He shifted his gaze towards the young looking muzzled girl. Hands outstretched in a begging posture while she eyed the plate of slop in front of Charon. Although his stone face didn't show it, he was momentarily taken aback by this. Most of the inmates, for good reason, gave him a wide berth or tried to intimidate him to fuel their own ego. Charon's first initial thought was to dump the contents of the plate on the floor while maintaining eye contact. After a second of deliberation he felt that too petty, even for him. Particularly with the fact that the woman was already collared and muzzled. Like a dog. "No. I don't." Charon answered, voice deep and coarse like sandpaper. He slowly slid the plate towards the woman. He made sure to continue his unblinking stare of cold disdain in order to ensure she did not take it as any gesture of compassion or comradery. Were the situation to change here, he would put her down without any remorse. He looked back over towards Körbl. For such an off-putting person his question of the table's strength seemed to inspire a lot of discussion. The type of which Charon had no interest in entertaining. Instead he looked past Körbl. Past the strange ice manipulating man, the punk looking woman, the insecure man vying for attention, the dull looking woman who had just sat down. Actually that did almost catch Charon's attention considering she'd strong armed a metallic looking man who was several times her size. But instead Charon focused on Ameliya. Having just been shocked by one of the guards for insubordination. While she, and the punk looking woman who'd attempted to stick up for her and was similarly reprimanded, seemed to move on from the incident. Charon kept his gaze focused and his hands tensed. He wasn't ever given much warning when the guards would use him to take down another inmate. Better to be ready, just in case.</s> <\|message\|>Rueyn Grimm Rueyn aka The Reaper Noise... always so much noise... Shut the fuck up, all of you. Rueyn met Ameliya's eyes and gave a nod in return, tilting her horned redhead in hello. She noted that she seemed to have been tased recently, her hair was a bit staticky and stuck up in ways it didn't normally. "I'm guessing you put one in his place and he didn't like that," she observed, the question mark unspoken. She then gave a loud, demonic rumble of appreciation as the air cleared up from the unholy miasma that seemed to permeate this place, replaced by the smell of thunder and lightning, and she had a feeling she knew who did it, but she wasn't sure wether to directly thank her. Eh, she would just be herself about it. There was no need to pretend or make an attempt unless someone else did and even then she didn't trust them until she was sure she knew what the long con was, if there was one. "Ozone smells so much better than the filth that usually passes for filtered air in this shithole," she commented, voice rumbling and distorted by the mask, then turned to look at the girl with the muzzle, who had her hands clasped together in classic beggar fashion, asking if she could have the food that she wasn't eating. So, that's the Devourer. That's an interesting form she chose for herself, perhaps it reflects how young she really is. The muzzle must frustrate her, I could relate, once-upon-a-fucked-up-time. "Be my guest," she leaned forward and nonchalantly handed over the tray of slop that they insisted on giving her every time, no matter how many times she dumped it into the trash or gave it away to whoever wasn't pissing her off. "They insist on giving me this shit when I don't even need to eat unless I want to. Aye, here, bet you haven't tried this yet." In a rare moment of unexpected civility and perhaps even friendliness, she slipped a handful of cube-shaped ginger candies from seemingly nowhere and onto the tray as she gave it over to the girl. Romanov meanwhile, watched her prisoner intently, on edge waiting for the moment she might need to step in and calm the reaper before she got violent, but relaxed a little when she saw that Ruyn was merely sharing her ginger. Not entirely out of character for her (Romanov had been offered some a few times), but most wouldn't know that. "Conversations of strength and weakness and who can fuck up who better is fucking useless. There will always be someone or a group of someones who can and will kick your ass. Save your breath so I don't have to smell it, along with every other jackass's unwashed armpits, genitals, rotting teeth, and shit-crusted ass cheeks. Even Death demons don't smell like rotting corpses. No offense, Randolph. 'Least you've a valid reason for it." Ahh There was the Reaper that she knew best. Rueyn ended her piece by removing her mask with her bone-colored claw-tipped hand to set it on her thigh, revealing the exposed bones and wicked, long fangs and serrated teeth. The scar that ran above her left eye apparently had been so deep that even her cheekbone bore scoring, and judging by the slightly darker color in the groove, it was an old one. She opened her wicked jaws to pop some of the ginger cubes into her mouth, the flash of a pierced forked tongue as she did so. Rueyn had learned that this face of hers was actually an advantage in this kind of environment, and did it every so often to remind people that she was not human, not bound by human limitations and was still capable of ripping you to shreds, without her powers.</s>	<\|message\|>Körbl Meier "What's this?" Grinning, his teeth showed brightly as Körbl listened to the various replies. More than he expected even. "And here I thought everyone had lost their spines. How quaint." Körbl blood boiled and heart pounded with renewed excitement, he had resigned to thinking there won't be anyone willing to step up after his four altercations with other prisoners. Yet there are still willing to say so. It didn't really matter what power they had, physical, mental, magical, technological, supernatural, Körbl didn't give a single thought about it. So long one was ready to answer, it was more than enough for him. Already from afar, movement and activity from the guards had already spread as they try to move an unruly prisoner into place. That brief distraction was all that Körbl needed as he grabbed the wooden spoon. "Then onto my second question." "Who amongst us...is the strongest?" Körbl this time said loudly, body readied and willing to jump into action. It's been a long time since he had gotten into a proper fight. Frankly, even a tussle against the guards seemed tempting at this rate. The pounding in his head was reaching a crescendo and lust for battle bottled over the past few month oozed outwards. Reaching a point where it was like an overflowed dam. (If GM wants to have guards taze/restraint Körbl, this is the chance.)</s>
<\|description\|>Ameliya Pyrrhus Known Aliases: On conspiracy theorist boards, she was humorously called 'Spontaneous Human Combustion' or SHC for short. Though if she had to choose she would prefer her second nickname, Inferna Age: 29 Appearance: 5'8" foot tall, toned muscles, warm sepia toned skin, and fire-red hair that some could even swear were alight. Psyche Profile: That is one angry bitch. If she isn't threatening to set you alight, she is being a sarcastic asshole and spitting fire in a metaphorical sense. An old guard was once stupid enough to give her a gift as a way to try to calm her down, she burned that teddy bear right in front of his eyes, and then of course he was fired. He was just lucky he wasn't actually set on fire by her as well. There has been progression though, and we are happy to say she has at least stopped lighting herself on fire. It seemed after a few months, it started to become understood all that ended up giving her was exhaustion and a lack of clothes. Background: * Her mother gave her as an offering to a king of the underworld, when she just a newborn. * Ameliya was the plaything or toy to the king, she would be given the freedom to go back to earth only to be dragged back without warning. She had the hope of normal ripped from her again and again just to remind her how small she was compared to him and how helpless she was. It was all about dominating her and making her feel useless and broken. * Through the days where she could escape though, she did her research and finding and when she turned 24 she managed to kill the king and earn her freedom. * Since then she spent her time as an assassin. A sharpshooter with incendiary bullets, she was the answer behind what a lot of people considered spontaneous human combustion. * She started by taking on the jobs of people she believes deserve to die but the longer she did the work, the more she felt like she needed more. She had an insatiable hunger for death, like an itch that she couldn't scratch. She just needed to kill one more guy, one more person and maybe she would finally be free from everything. * The numbers racked up and she got sloppy, not caring if the new target was a mafia boss, a drug dealer, or just an adultering spouse. That finally caught some powerful people's attention, powerful as in the way lasers shoot out of eyes and trains are lifted with ease... and so she once again found herself in a battle that she couldn't beat. Skills, Talents and Learning: * She specializes as a sharpshooter with incendiary bullets, which thanks to her powers this means when she hits her target, she lights them up and burns them to dust. * She also has basic fighting skills, the kind you would find on the streets, and are more than likely were learned out of a need to survive. Power(s) and Capabilities: Fire Embodiment: * Can create fire * Can control the fire within her sight * Her body can turn into a form of a woman made of flames, when in this form her healing is also accelerated Power Limits: * She might be able to control the flames within her view, but as soon as they are out of her sight they are just wildfire like any other fire out of control. * Her fire form though could be seen as impressive, is not something she has much control over. She often lits anything around her without any intent to, her touch in this form hurts those around her. She also can only keep this form for an hour, without adding fuel to the fire and if used too long it will wear her out and often leads to unconsciousness. Known Vulnerabilities: That and of course there are many different ways of how to kill a fire: * Water * Ice * Fire extinguishers * Sand * Lack of oxygen Motives: Ameliya craves freedom, because of her past trauma she doesn't totally know what this looks like but she is damn sure it's not being in the borehole. Recommended Containment Procedures: * Power dampner cuff on her ankle to keep her powers in check, she is still able to cause smaller fires but not able to meltdown the cafeteria around her. * Her cell is outlined in concrete, she is unable to catch anything other than her own essentials on fire. If fires are started though, there are a multitude of ways to contain her. The most preferred being fire extinguishers from anywhere in the room or the removal of oxygen. * When she is out of the cell, she is to always be with at least two guards in fire retardant clothes, which are most often used by firefighters. They are also to be supplied with fire extinguishers and tasers. Notes: Playlist: open.spotify.com/playlist/13BTH5aTm2j…</s> <\|message\|>Körbl Meier Körbl Meier "What's this?" Grinning, his teeth showed brightly as Körbl listened to the various replies. More than he expected even. "And here I thought everyone had lost their spines. How quaint." Körbl blood boiled and heart pounded with renewed excitement, he had resigned to thinking there won't be anyone willing to step up after his four altercations with other prisoners. Yet there are still willing to say so. It didn't really matter what power they had, physical, mental, magical, technological, supernatural, Körbl didn't give a single thought about it. So long one was ready to answer, it was more than enough for him. Already from afar, movement and activity from the guards had already spread as they try to move an unruly prisoner into place. That brief distraction was all that Körbl needed as he grabbed the wooden spoon. "Then onto my second question." "Who amongst us...is the strongest?" Körbl this time said loudly, body readied and willing to jump into action. It's been a long time since he had gotten into a proper fight. Frankly, even a tussle against the guards seemed tempting at this rate. The pounding in his head was reaching a crescendo and lust for battle bottled over the past few month oozed outwards. Reaching a point where it was like an overflowed dam. (If GM wants to have guards taze/restraint Körbl, this is the chance.)</s> <\|message\|>Randolph Ward Randolph's aura traveled with him, the stench assailing the other inmates. Though Randolph usually maintains an air of sophistication to his demeaner and behavior, he can't help but smile a little for every person he disgusts. Some primal warmth emanates within, a instinct locked deep within the subconscious satisfied. It is a good feeling to cause dismay in others by presence alone, makes it less likely they will transgress on him. The only one unfazed was the muzzled girl who seemed…attracted to him. Randolph heard of her, some sort of voracious alien with an insatiable appetite. He should keep his distance lest he wind up on the dinner plate for once. But on the other hand, his curiosity demands observation. What is she? The Defiler has interesting tastes, perhaps she is some sort of creation of his? Or maybe a spawn of Abhoth, one who kept its progenitor's appetite? He noted to probe her mind at a later date, for the sake of his curiosity. "None taken. My kind have a different instinctual behavior to that sort of stimuli because, well, It's no secret. I do recognize it is as alien an idea to you as hygiene is for me…" Randolph turned to the demon, trying to recall her name. "…Rueyn, right? I don't believe I had the pleasure of meeting one of your kind, if you being a demon is true. I'd appreciate an opportunity to probe your mind, if you are willing, I'm curious if my theories bear any fruit or if your origins prove too esoteric." Randolph looked towards Körbl, confounded for a second. Randolph knew he had a tendency to start fights with the stronger inmates, but Randolph now realized it was a test of some sort. Where he wanted to fight his way to the top and remain there. At first Randolph was irritated at a foolish goal, his lips began to curl into a snarl. But then Randolph was distraught with introspection. Afterall, isn't this a mirror of his own journey? The constant and never-ending road of self-improvement. He seeks to perfect the flesh, while Randolph seeks to perfect the mind. "I see where this is going and I forfeit." Randolph said, a solemn expression forming. "In a physical, and honorable fight, I don't feel confident in my odds. But I do respect your commitment to physical improvement. I thought us inimical, but now I believe we are share much more semblance than I believed. If anyone else wants to fight, don't let me stop you…" Randolph concluded, before having a second thought and adding" "…besides, they might let me eat the loser." Randolph said with a grin. They let him eat a few metahumans before, and Randolph enjoyed sampling the taste their powers gave their flesh, something like a box of assorted chocolates. One never really knows what they will taste.</s>	<\|message\|>Ameliya Pyrrhus Looking over at the bright and cheery words coming out of her fellow cellmate, she couldn't help but chuckle at her plan to eat the guard that had gotten her ribs good with the cattle prod. She appreciated the offer. Her ribs still felt sore though as she thought about it, they were definitely going to bruise but she would not let a hand go to touch them. Not here, in front of everyone. A smile teased at her lips though and she commented, "Might as well just eat all the guards then." With a smirk, she still faced the table but her eyes slid to look at the guards standing behind them. Maybe the thought of being digested by a small girl would be an embarrassing enough death to make that asshole think twice. Though as she watched, the old guard didn't seem to be shaking in his boots but maybe it was just her imagination she couldn't help feel like he looked a little paler. Looking back at the ravenous girl, she just managed to catch sight of her throwing a spoon down her gullet. That got a proper laugh out of her, the laugh causing her to cough slightly as it caused her to remember how sore her ribs were. The little girl was odd but she couldn't help that she actually didn't mind her company. Though with the sight of her eating more of others' meals, Ameliya made sure to take another scoop of the gruel just so her food would not manage to just disappear in front of her. Looking to see it was the scarecrow of a man's meal that had been stolen, she looked curious to see if he was disappointed but only instead found him staring intently at her. Ameliya rose one sharp red eyebrow at him, questioning exactly what he wanted. Though this did not seem to create an answer though as he seemed completely tense and focused. Having no idea what his problem was she instantly thought of two reasons, and jokingly winked at him before snorting and continued eating her food. If he wanted to go at her, she would be ready. Quickly eating up what she had on her tray, Ameliya watched Rue with curiosity as she not only gave the girl with a black hole for a stomach, not only her food but somehow candy she had somehow managed to get in this hellhouse. That was surprisingly kind of her in this place. Her curiosity was only furthered by the sight that lay under Rue's mask. Seeing the demon's complete face for the first time brought along even more questions with it. One was how the hell she managed to keep that candy in her mouth. Though with the sharp teeth and exposed bone gave a surprising feeling of nostalgia. Rue might be an interesting sight, but she was not the first demon she had ever met. Though she might be funnily enough one of the more kind ones... Scraping the remnants of breakfast, Ameliya made quick work of her food. No telling when she was going to lose it after all. Especially, with a woman that not only ate every food in front of her but the spoons as well. With that thought in mind, she cleaned the spoon of the last of the food and then threw her spoon over towards Kailani. Not like she had any use for it anymore. Ameliya's attention was instantly grabbed back as she looked towards the heavily chained sitting down across the table from her. This kind of talk only led to fights and fights she was too used too had more often than not meant the difference between her surviving the day. Maybe it was because today had already started off as a challenging day thanks to the asshole guards, or maybe it was because she too had not had a proper fight in a while but a bold and defiant grin grew across her face. Only the strongest survived and she was going to damn well survive this miserable purgatory. So she stared back at him with eyes that seemed to flash with fiery light as she answered him, "Well I don't know about the strongest, but from my experience, most men do tend to burn up all the same."</s>
<\|description\|>Marina Montressor Known Aliases: Argent, The White Fang Age: 34 Appearance: Subject is currently 5 ft. 3, with brown eyes and short white hair. Noticeably pale with a slight build in this form. When having access to her abilities, Subject stands over six feet tall and is visibly more muscular and athletic, her eyes turning bright yellow while she grows sharper teeth and claws on her hands. Fully transformed, it is believed Subject stands as tall as nine feet, fully resembling a heavily muscled wolf-like being with white fur. Psyche Profile: While it was initially believed that Subject was a mild-mannered individual suffering from a feral alternate self, follow-up examinations have shown this to be untrue. Rather, Subject is believed to be in full control of her mental faculties, her split personality merely a front to avoid legal consequences before now. Underneath the facade largely believed to have been created to help avoid legal repercussions for her actions, subject has proven to be highly intelligent, egotistical, and possessing a great talent for manipulating events to her advantage. Analysis also suggests that despite the feral nature of her powers and an utterly ruthless streak, Subject possesses an enormous amount of self-control and restraint. Indeed, while Subject has no record of violence or behavioral trouble at the Asylum, it seems other inmates already see harassing the Subject as a taboo owing to certain 'accidents'. That being said, it is known that Subject can become temperamental when faced with a slight or potential failure, hyper focusing on revenge against those she considers enemies and even flying into a rage in extreme situations. No such incidents have been definitively shown to occur, though investigation of the aforementioned 'accidents' is ongoing. Background: Marina Montressor was born in Sicily to a family of once-wealthy vintners that had fallen into destitution. Abandoning her family at a young age for unknown reasons, she traveled north to live with a distant relative where she first attended school, showing brilliance from a young age all the way to her Graduation from university, where she received top marks and commendations in several scientific fields. Orchestrating a hostile takeover of a business venture launched by her estranged parents, assumed to be an act of revenge judging by some of her statements, Montressor rebranded the venture as the bio-technical firm LunarTech, which she helped rapidly grow into a powerful corporate entity that held sway over much of Southern Europe, so much so that the German corporate juggernaut Sonnenlicht even approached the young company with a deal to share dominance over the entire European market, and much of the continent itself in turn. There was of course one obstacle to that; Sonnenlicht had once attempted to buy out the company when it was still a small tech firm, and Montressor was far from forgiving them for that slight. And so, what could have been a fruitful partnership turned into a bitter feud that threw both companies into chaos, and while her underlings bemoaned her destructive actions against the German tech giant, Montressor was preparing her secret weapon against her hated enemy. Sonnenlicht was a lot of things, but it was first and foremost a military tech company, supplying advanced arms and weapons to much of the armed forces around the world. Using her own extensive chemical knowledge, Montressor began a project to help break into that market and dethrone her hated rivals, a chemical combat stimulant code-named WARWICK. Pouring millions of dollars and far too much time into the project, WARWICK was the straw that broke the camel's back, and the LunarTech board of directors suspended all of Montressor's projects and began the process to remove her from company leadership. When her long-time partner and friend arrived at her office to smugly inform her of the news, she coolly responded by throwing the man out of the top floor window, followed by her own desk, and proceeded to go on a rampage through the corporate offices, revealing who she had been testing the WARWICK compound on; herself. When the police were called and manage to corner Montressor in her own laboratory, out of a manic desire to ensure her hated enemy would never get her hands on her greatest creation, she dosed herself with the entire stock of WARWICK she had left, completing her transformation into the supervillain Argent. Amazingly, even after the rampage, Montressor's legal team managed to keep her out of jail by "proving" the attacker was a test subject that had gotten out of control, leaving her as the head of the company with all her rivals conveniently "out of the way". This status quo continued even as mounting attacks on other companies, including of course Sonnenlicht, and even superheroes getting in the way of LunarTech's ambitions, were excused by her army of lawyers as mere accidents or the machinations of a murderous alternate personality. Said excuses ran dry though, and after a very public instance of Marina Montressor's transformation into Argent, she was finally dethroned and sent to Thornwood Asylum for what would hopefully be a very, very long time. Skills, Talents and Learning: Genius level intellect, fluent in multiple languages and possessing considerable scientific and technical knowledge. Capable hand to hand fighter. Highly charismatic, skilled at social manipulation. In addition, while her company has been dismantled, it's believed that she is still quite wealthy with a personal net worth in the millions. Power(s) and Capabilities: Due to extensive use of the WARWICK compound, subject possesses the ability to transform at will, partly or fully, into a creature resembling a werewolf. At base level, subject possesses superhuman strength, agility, and durability, as well as heightened senses, sharpened claws and a powerful bite as weapons, and the ability to quickly heal from debilitating injuries. Subject's strength and size increases dramatically as the transformation into full werewolf form progresses; subject in full werewolf form has been known to lift and throw heavy vehicles and tear through reinforced metal with her claws and teeth. Power Limits: While easily able to tank attacks that would be lethal to standard humans, sustained damage can overwhelm her defenses and healing factor to take her out of a fight. In addition, progressing towards her full transformation sacrifices her agility and speed for increased strength and size, still at an above average level but more able to be exploited by a nimble opponent. Known Vulnerabilities: The effects of the WARWICK compound can be hindered by a specially made antidote and suppressed entirely by a constant dosage. In addition, heightened emotional states can cause subject to transform involuntarily, and when fully transformed, the subject risks descending into a rage state, becoming fully feral and losing control of her mental faculties, rendering her dangerous but easy to trap and contain. Motives: Somewhat unclear. Subject expressed a desire to regain the power and success she once held, but it's uncertain how she will manage that, considering the dismantling of her company and public image. Recommended Containment Procedures: Subject is to be fitted with a medical apparatus constantly providing the antidote to the WARWICK compound, until such a time when a complete cure for her condition is found. Device is to be refilled and inspected three times a day, and any attempt to damage or tamper with the device is to be severely punished. Otherwise, subject can be contained like any other baseline human. Notes:Anything else to throw in.</s> <\|message\|>Randolph Ward Randolph perked up a bit at the sound of Marina. She is perhaps the only one Randolph actually cares about beyond what use they could be to him. She is the only one, as far as Randolph is aware at least, with a past somewhat mirroring his own. Randolph remembers his first taste of flesh. A long long long time ago when technological advances was figuring out how to better besiege a castle. The last time he felt human and the first time he was surrounded by death. There was something about the rot, something about himself, some primal instinct that led to that first taste. And with it he was reborn in a sense. The shackles, as he saw it at least, began to fracture at that moment and a Nascent Ghoul was created. For a time, he was confused. The grains and fruits of the land were foul, meat of chicken and cow was…unsatisfying. He grew sickly and malnourished. The only thing that nourished him was human flesh, or at least of anything sufficiently humanoid as he would later learn. Slowly he would learn to reassociate what was food and what was not, shattering his former morals and sensibilities. It was a long and difficult road to where he is now, but thankfully he had another Ghoul to mentor and guide him through the process. In Marina, Randolph sees someone who has taken the first steps on a journey to transcend her human limitations. Someone who still bears shackles, some metaphorical, but at least one literal shackle with that cruel device attached to her. In Randolph's mind, it is a vile device that shackles her from her true self much like Randolph was once shackled by his humanity. Randolph decided, when finding about Marina and her…condition, that he will assist her in realizing her true self. To have her shackles rendered literally and metaphorically. Like how Randolph was once guided, he will guide her through her path to the best of his ability. It is the responsibility of the old to teach the young after all. Though it already has paid some dividends, he had an excuse to tear a snack out of some guy that was harassing her. Claiming he was 'stopping a fight before it starts' along with restraining from killing the guy unlike what other inmates would do gave just enough plausible deniability that he did not get in much trouble too. "I've had many names over my life, only some of them because I changed my identity. Beats being called something vague like 'Monster' or 'What-the-fuck-is-that'" "Seems like a decent plan, but I'm not convinced." Randolph announced. "I will outlast this prison, that much is certain to me. Maybe if your… Riot bears fruit I will provide assistance, but if it fizzles out then I would rather not risk retribution. If I must suffer this prison, I would like to keep what modicum of comfort I have." A slight falsehood. Randolph had a different plan in mind. He could use the opportunity to try and slink away on his own. Or at least in a much smaller group. He remembers seeing, while pacing around parts of the facility a section of wall that was damaged but never properly fixed. Randolph reasons he can, with some time, break enough of the wall to burrow a tunnel through the Earth. The riot, even if a failure, seems likely to keep the guards busy enough and for long enough to allow for his own escape. If Abigail's plan does not work, his might. and if his does not pan out, Abby's might. If neither works, Randolph might be able to avoid punishment, or at least what punishment is given for starting a riot. In his experience, Randolph finds it best to have plans with plans. '…Though I should invite Marina. It would give me a chance to impart some advice…' Randolph thought. Plus, it would help to have someone stronger, least when she adopts her more beastly guise. He will need to be discreet though, if everyone finds out and wants to join his plan, the Riot will be less of a distraction. Not to mention how cramped the tunnel will get. "Hey Marina… meet me outside my cell when the 'distraction' starts. I need to tell you something…" Randolph whispered to her, before he turned to leave the cafeteria. He would linger around a bit longer in case any relevant details would arise.</s> <\|message\|>Ameliya Pyrrhus Ameliya had only half-listened to Alfred talk about some all-powerful sorcerers. In her mind, if they had died because of some simple ice spikes then they really couldn't have been that powerful. They sounded like they would have also died from a well-aimed incendiary bullet and a little bit of fire. The thoughts were quickly thrown to the side though as she whirled around to face the odd man who had just appeared near them. Though when she saw a guard carry over the prized possession of actual food towards the ice lover, she couldn't help but scoff. "Who did you sell yourself to get such a luxury?" She said with a derisive laugh. She wasn't exactly sure what he had done to be able to get a preferred dish around here, playing snitch or otherwise. All she knew was she was not going to have any hand of it. Ameliya was immediately fascinated by the punk rocker girl's sudden new knowledge of keycodes and supposed benefactors, as well as her quickly thrown-together plan. Sure she wasn't sure if any of it was going to work but Ameliya had been looking for an opening of any kind and this seemed to be one. After all, a death in the middle of a firey battle was much preferred than rotting away in another cage. Though with that in mind, she would really rather not die anytime soon. Her eyes sharply looked over to Alfred, were those noodles in trade for knowledge? Was he going to be a problem? Her fiery red eyes trailed over him as she tried to read any sign of tenseness or possible excitement that a little tattletale might experience. Turning back to Abby, Ameliya kept in her mind that Alfred was definitely going to be one to keep an eye on, and if it came to it, eliminated. Though as the words about a distraction and something flammable were said, Ameiliya's eyes danced with familiar fire and a wide grin grew over her face. "Bring me something more than this stupid jumpsuit to burn, and this place will be a war zone as soon as I can help it."</s>	<\|message\|>Marina Montressor "Monty doesn't sound as good as your end name. Montressor! It's much more fun!" Marina snorted before taking another bite of her apple. For a monstrous insatiable creature that desired to consume everything in her path, she was really a charming little thing. Maybe it was because, in a surreal sort of way, she saw a bit of herself in this strange alien, a sort of natural curiosity and drive that she admired. Of course Randolph would have probably said that it was also because they were both powerful beings forced into weak human forms by their inferiors or something to that effect, which was also fairly accurate. Sure she was technically human, but...well, there was probably a reason why Marina found it more engaging to interact with the voracious alien and the corpse-like monster then, say, the perfectly normal young woman who could otherwise absorb radiation. Speaking of which... "How do you guys feel about blowing this pop stand?" Atom Bomb whispered among the gathered inmates. Marina certainly was, so she leaned in slightly as the plan was fervently discussed, with the guards none the wiser. "This sounds like a stupid plan," Min-Ji interjected mid-conversation. "I would say ambitious," Marina corrected her, spinning the core of the apple she finished on the table. "In any such case, I'd be more then happy to take my leave of this wretched little hive. I would of course need some help getting this...thing off of me." She jerked a thumb towards her back. "But if that can be done, then I doubt we'll have much trouble with the guards." Listening carefully in on the rest of the plan and the players involved, she caught sight of Randolph making his leave. "Hey Marina… meet me outside my cell when the 'distraction' starts. I need to tell you something…" he whispered to her. Raising an eyebrow, she nevertheless gave a curt nod as Randolph left. She couldn't help but wonder what exactly he had planned...</s>
<\|description\|>Julia Kray Known Aliases: The Black Death Age: 28 Appearance: Julia stands at 5"6 and 125lbs with a 'healthy' build and a now pallid complexion made all the worse by her constantly haunted eyes and ever-growing crow's feet, brought on by a lack of restful nights. Her hair is just past shoulder length, light chestnut and well-maintained, as cleanliness and grooming are now sanctuaries that Julia enjoys as calming activities to break up the monotony of cell life. Her eyes are brown and dull, though once may have been slightly more vibrant and bright. Psyche Profile: Julia is a generally well-behaved inmate who keeps her head down and never makes any trouble. She never tries to leave her cell without her gloves and every time she is prompted to, she puts them on without complaint.The one avenue where she might possibly cause trouble is her desperation to not seem like a frail doormat the other inmates can push around as a weak link. She is often seeking comfort by slipping back into old routines, so treats the wardens and guards more as middle-management team leaders than as enemies or authority figures. Going along with them is just…part of the job. Background: It's unknown how Julia Kray got her powers. Even Julia Kray can't remember the night clearly. She recalls brief flashes of holding a glowing blue orb in her hands, and the sensation of burning that she felt from her pals and fingertips, but cannot remember what the Orb was, why she had grabbed it, or what happened next. Her next memory was of waking up in a field several miles out from the City. Julia lived in Glasgow, Scotland, and worked in an office answering phones all day. Her life wasn't exciting. She lived in a third floor apartment several train stops away from her work, and commuted every day. She was single, had no pets, didn't know her neighbors, and only saw her parents once every few months. And she had no intention of changing a thing. She doesn't remember how it happened. Whether she grabbed, was grabbed, or simply brushed against them. She remembered the strange man dying in front of her as visible black streaks were running up his veins from the spot their hands had touched, spreading to his entire body, and he collapsed in spasms and convulsions. She remembered the dreams of onlookers, They fled in terror. And so did she. Some people tried to stop her, to grab her. she snatched their hands away, or shoved them. She didn't look back. She just wanted to get somewhere that wasn't there. It was as if she was running from herself too. In her apartment the next day, she saw her terrified face everywhere, plastered on every news channel and paper. 'The Black Death', they were calling her. A terrorist. A murderer. A Supervillain. Eleven people, she'd killed that day. She went to the bathroom and threw up. The police came to her house and she was so scared, so terrified of facing down the barrels of their pistols. Every shout and command barked and screamed at her, caused her to flinch and her eyes to twitch. She lunged at them, hands outstretched, knowing that she was killing them. Then she ran again. It was famous and beloved British Superhero The Guardian who finally found her, crumpled under a tree in the woods. She warned him not to come. She warned him to stay away from her. But he didn't listen. She turned herself in that day. Still holding back tears. She just wanted to be somewhere quiet and safe now, where the pain might stop. She didn't care if that was prison. Julia Kray, The Black Death, is one of the most hated and reviled figures in British history, infamous the world over, for being the Supervillain who killed The Guardian. Skills, Talents and Learning: Julie has good conversational and diplomatic skills on account of her customer-facing job and ordinary social life. Mercenaries, murderers, aliens and mysterious beings may be far more skilled and knowledgeable than Julia, but could they fit seamlessly into society without standing out? She can also cook pretty well. Power(s) and Capabilities: The palms and fingertips of Julia's hands will spread a fast-acting, highly potent toxin through the bloodstream/capillary system of any living thing that she touches within seconds. And unless the recipient is immune to poisons or toxins, or can sever the infected flesh fast enough, that will mean death. Julia doesn't even know whether or not this power will work on her, and is scared to find out, so never touches her own body with her bare hands Power Limits: Besides Julia's own reluctance to leave her hands uncovered for very long, let alone touch others, means that she's in-effect limiting herself. Her power is also reliant on touch and Julia herself is untrained giving it a very poor range and making it easy for skilled individuals to avoid if the need arose, or even attack her from a distance, where she would be at their mercy. Known Vulnerabilities: Julia's hands are almost constantly covered, whether by her own volition or by her secure cuff-gloves, so she is rarely a threat to anybody while an inmate at the prison. Coupled with that, she is an ordinary human. A Civilian, in fact. Not even so much as a self-defence class under her belt. Getting stabbed with a ball-point pen to the shoulder would put her in the infirmary. Motives: Julia doesn't have any goals as much as she has dreams. There's no finish line in sight but she has a carrot on a stick to keep her running and that carrot is the dream that one day she can return to a normal life of relative anonymity. Maybe to even have a family and a circle of friends one day. Recommended Containment Procedures: She is not allowed to be interacted with, given food, or her door to be opened unless she has put on special gloves that lock around her wrists and prevent her hands from coming in direct contact with anything.</s> <\|message\|>Alfred Gunther Alfred Gunther/The Frostbite Never One... Without the Other As soon as Kailani went towards the direction of the cell blocks that held Arc Dragon and the rest of their still imprisoned conspirators, Frostbite jumped off from the massive alien's back. He stepped down into a floor that was absolutely filled with pools of blood and pieces of gore; remnants of the guards and perhaps a few unlucky inmates that were standing in the way of the tank sized monstrosity's delighted rampage. Of course, Frostbite didn't like the floor this way. It was messy, chaotic, and slippery; a far cry from the highly organized nature of Alfred's mind, which naturally detested it when the environment was just out of order. But this was a prison escape. An escape from one of the most secure facilities in this side of the world, no less, so it would take much more chaos and destruction to actually get up there and see the sky once again... Frostbite flapped its wings, sending another barrage of ice spikes towards the cavalcade of retreating guards that were currently pulling back towards the elevators. Some got stabbed by incoming projectiles, others were luckily behind riot shields that dented the attack, and others still held their ground and opened fire. It did little, of course, though Frostbite felt his form slowly getting chipped away by the incoming bullets. He was less durable than Kailaniz tough he felt no pain, a side effect of having no biological nervous system to begin with once transformed into that state. And so he decided to fly forward and breathed out conical blasts of freezing wind, aiming to clear the way to the elevator for the rest of them once Min-Ji and the others had been freed from their internment.</s> <\|message\|>Körbl Meier @TheRedWatcher @twave @Blazion @Silver Carrot @Perse @KaelRavenheart Körbl Meier "Well, don't regret it." Körbl said before slamming his foot directly into Iris chest without any hesitation. @Klumsykrow357 The impact alone was enough to stop a car moving a 60 km/s dead in its tracks, and all of that was sent straight into her. Körbl felt that was enough, it wasn't lethal enough to drop most of the lesser strength heroes and incapacitate the normal ones. If she lived, fine, if she didn't, well, it's not his problem. That done, Körbl turned and looked at the remaining preceeding as some of them are splitting to get more prisoners free while the elevator area remained clear. Körbl turned to Abigail, and tilted his head to where Kailani and some of the prisoners are heading towards. "You want to wait for them or do we assist them? We don't have much time though having more firepower helps." It was the same to Körbl anyways, it'll be a tight frame but so long they don't put too much pressure, the elevators will keep running to send more guards down. The moment they reached the elevators however, it'll be placed under control or locked down but at that point, they can probably afford to dig upwards with the monster alien before worrying about being lunch.</s>	<\|message\|>Julia Kray The tear gas that had filled the cafeteria had a severe effect on Julia, who was essentially a civilian. She had retreated to underneath one of the tables, and was a hacking, coughing mess, rubbing at and trying to shield her streaming, stinging eyes. She couldn't 'tough this out'. This was an awful experience. This whole thing had been a mistake. She couldn't perform a breakout! She wasn't cut from the same cloth as all these hardened criminals around her, who could go toe-to-toe with superpowered vigilantes. Tear gas was nothing to them. She had been a fool for thinking there was anything she could have done to help them, as opposed to them needing to baby her if she hid behind them all the way up. The gas was suddenly starting to clear, and Julia suddenly found it easier to breathe, and to see. She tentatively barely opened one eye, to see that Kai, in her true monstrous form, was eating the smoking canisters. The creature then approached her and licked her face. Julia have her weak, still-pained yet warm smile, and patted her on the shoulder in gratitude, not yet recovered enough for a verbal thanks but hoping her sentiment was carried across. As she stayed seated underneath the table, waiting for the air to clear and her face to recover, she could hear the sounds of combat moving from the cafeteria to the corridor and the prison cells. There was much more gunfire and screaming than before, and Julia was absolutely not going to go and become a liability, or collateral, but getting involved in that chaos, especially not without her full faculties. "Hey! Is anyone in here?" shouted a male voice, as a pair of guards were searching through the mist of the tear gas. Julia got to her feet, and raised her hand to peer through the haze to see them, and they saw her. They approached, with guns aimed at her. "Don't move! Identify yourself!" "Julia Kray! Don't shoot me, I was just eating my lunch." "Kray? Put your hands up! Let me see your gloves!" The guards would then see her comply, raising both her hands to show that she was still wearing her gloves. They seemed to relax a little as they now comfortably approached her. The closest one took both her hands and reached for his manual metal cuffs. "Alright. We'll get you back to your cell nice and easy now." Back to her cell. They were going to take her back to her cell. While the rest escaped, she alone would remain a captive. Alone. Not even a hope of any human company, let alone friends. Nobody but the guards. She couldn't do that! She won't! But the moment that guard cuffs her, it's all over! Even Julia was startled by the gunshot. Before she'd truly managed to register what she was doing, she had taken the handgun from where she had tucked it in her waistline, and she had shot the guard in the stomach. He was backing up, still stunned. The other guard reached for his own gun. Julia whipped round and fired three bullets into his upper chest, killing him. The first guard was reaching for his own weapon. She shot him in the head. She couldn't believe she'd just killed them. She felt sick. But she forced herself not to dwell on it. She had truly crossed the line now. If she stopped, or let her adrenaline wear off and succumb to the mental collapse, she would get shot. She had to keep moving forward. Smoking gun still in hand, she ran towards the cells, and beyond them, the elevators.</s>
<\|description\|>Hauta Kanata Known Aliases: The Storm Age: 436 Appearance: Kanata has a male and female form both of which resemble each other to a degree both have black hair that comes down past their waist. A trait from their Yokai form , for which the male has leather like skin coming down from the top of his shoulder and down along his arms with eyes that glow bright when around others similar to his kind. The female form has a black leather like skin effect over one eye and its pupil red. They have olive skin and are around 5'8 in female form and 6 feet in male form. The proportions of his body change depending on a few key points, one of which is his choice. Psyche Profile: Usually free flowing and calm but can turn violent in the blink of an eye similar to that of the calm winds interrupted by a torrent hurricane. He Has a fear of losing his mind and rampaging so tends to hold back unless necessary. He tends to be more light hearted and drinks on occasion which he uses to forget his troubled past that follows him. Background: During the Edo period the wind blew and lightning crackled as two mongol fleets attempted to invade japan. The storm crushed the encroaching army as a baby lay in his mothers lap, his father standing next to her as he looked out at the now calm and beautiful ocean. He says to his wife one day you will inherit this power my son but for now I must leave the heavens have stirred and I must take my place during the chaos. The man then faces the dawn as the wind picks up around him leaving his wife and child on the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean. That was the day Kanata was born. Skills, Talents and Learning: Has unmatched skill in close combat with his katana. He learns quickly and adapts due to his training as a samurai for the shogun. Power(s) and Capabilities: The ability to shift his body and control the wind around him his body shifts his body without pain into a new form and uses this as a self defense mechanism as injured body parts take from his undamaged spots. His wind abilities augment his speed and reaction times allowing for maneuvers otherwise unable to be done and can glide and jump for several stories . Power Limits and Vulnerabilities: access use of his shapeshifting to heal can cause him to become smaller and weaker in stature reverting to a child. And when pushed to the brink of death his Yokai instinct takes over to protect himself from the dangers which does not distinguish between friend or foe. needs semi constrictive clothing to use his powers effectively as he can not shapeshift past his current max space so if he's a younger version of himself put him into a bodysuit and he can't revert to an adult. Motives: Wants to escape and free himself from the shackles of his past. Oh yeah his wife wants to kill him. Recommended Containment Procedures: keep his sword away from him and use shinto preist blessed wrappings to contain his yokai powers negating his ability to shift and with his arms constrained he can only sense movements in the wind not use it as he doesnt have full control over his abilites yet</s> <\|message\|>Alfred Gunther Alfred Gunther/The Frostbite Never One... Without the Other As soon as Kailai began to shove the barricade of riot shields and guards towards the hallway with her usual relish of consumption and destruction, Frostbite swooped on from the overhanging lampshades, screeching in an animalistic manner. A gust of cold wind heralded its approach, wings stretched out on a full spread and a spherical winter storm of collecting around its icy mouth. The Cryophoenix's incoming strike evoked images of dive bombers, its screeching seemingly mimicking the demoralizing whistle of a Stuka dive bomber. That probably didn't do much by itself, as nothing was more terrifying than a giant, tank sized alien monstrosity plowing through one's coworkers as if they were chicken nuggets in a KFC deal bucket. Still, the screech first came like thunder before the actual lightning, then the freezing began. Frostbite attacked the guards to the left and right of Kailani, blasting them at regular intervals with flashfreeze breaths. One might have thought that there was a dragon spitting out fire, except that it was a phoenix spitting out ice and freezing wind. Several guards died instantly, every bit of warmth of body in their bodies sucked away by the vengeful winter spirit before it peeled away to avoid hitting a wall or some other obstacle. A few were frozen so thoroughly, they broke and shattered into a dozen or so pieces whenever someone exerted a bit of force on them. Here, though, there was no shortage of force. Frostbite had heard the fire woman being a little exasperated, and so moved accordingly. Even then, it didn't truly like that they are wasting quite the amount of lives in this escape... but such is the price of vengeance, isn't it?</s> <\|message\|>Randolph Ward Ghouls are peculiar creatures. With a little knowledge and observation one can surmise they burrow to avoid the sun, because that is where their prey resides, and because that will decrease the chance that they cross paths with living humans. But this has made them at home within the Earth. Ghouls can maneuver this barrier like a fish can maneuver in water. Sure, dirt provides more resistance than air but Ghouls have developed ways to burrow efficiently through instinct and evolution. Evolution gave them the tools they needed to 'swim' through the earth, fine muscle manipulation to easily break up loose dirt, claws and the strength to shatter rocks, minerals, ice, and other such things. There are few things that can stop a Ghoul from burrowing to where they want to go, not even dimensional barriers in the case of the Abyssal Paths. In addition, their senses are well adapted for digging. Humans might not be able to tell where a corpse was buried, but a Ghoul can sense it from miles away, even when underground. Living things produce a more subtle scent, but they can still smell the worry and urgency of guards running through hallways. Not only that but their sense of touch is perfectly suited for detecting the subtle vibrations in the earth, from one guard lagging behind for example. The trap has been set. Randolph lies in wait. Listening to the faint echo of boots, feeling the faint rumble of footsteps. Step by step, moment by moment. Getting closer. And closer. Until… Seven guards were barreling through the hall, worry on their minds, but also a duty. Locked underground with angry superpowered prisoners, the future looked grim but they were also afraid of what would happen if they shirked their duties. Their attention, focused ahead, was disrupted when a scream came from behind. Pameliya is gone, and in her place is a hole. Pameliya Erse was running with her comrades in arms when the ground disappeared beneath her. She did not have enough time to recognize her new situation before she felt a sudden stop and something applying pressure around her torso. She did get enough time to let out a piercing scream and to decide if it was better to have just plunged to her death. The other guards, already on edge, slowly approached the man-sized hole in the ground. The darkness barely illuminated by the lights in the hallway or their own flashlights. They exchanged nervous looks amongst each other for a few moments before they heard a scream and a loud crunch. With a little more urgency, they approached the opening and peered down with their flashlights, trying to find the source. "Pam…you….you okay down there?" One guard said nervously, not seeing anything. "There's something down there, something reflective" Another said, noticing something glinting. "What is that?" A third asked to no one in particular. Feeling safety in number, and curious of whatever was down there, the guards gathered around the opening, peering down while trying to wrack their minds at what they are seeing. "Hey guys, need a hand? Randolph said, brandishing a partially devoured human arm. The guards were to distracted to notice him emerge from the ground behind them. The guards turned to see Randolph climbing out of another path he dug when they were not looking. The sight was horrifying. The Ghoul towered over them wearing nothing to protect himself but an aura of intimidation and fear. His teeth were coated a blood red, as well as a large portion of the front of his body. Strings of flesh dangled from his mouth, trapped in between his dagger like teeth. He bore a devilish smile that betrayed his intentions. "Actually, I guess I need a hand. Yours." The guards had little time to act before Randolph did. The others may have flashier moves with formation of frost or fire. Manipulation of electricity in the air or in electronics. Or something else entirely. But all Randolph had was brute force and a keen intellect. He is willing to suffer the humans while Randolph is still within this prison, even aid them as they have aided him. But the humans in front of him are not part of the plan, and he grew tired of them. He has shown his shrewdness, but now was the time to show his strength. Randolph tore through flesh and bone like the paper and cardboard of a pinata, rewarded with blood, then screams, then silence, instead of candy. Randolph has been bottling his emotions within him for decades, while normally hidden underneath a guise of calm, he tapped into fury and hatred that was squirrelled away. He focused his rage onto one guard at a time, beating them well past a pulp, ripping them to shreds, before turning his attention onto the next. The humans tried to fight back, but they lacked the tools and courage, only inflicting pain which roused Randolph's wrath even further. It only took a few minutes to cake the hallway in blood and viscera. For flesh to be torn and scattered, their remains would need to be scooped off the walls. Only Randolph was left standing, wearing nothing but a fresh coat of blood paint and a few bits of flesh caked in his fur, teeth, and claws. Surrounded by death, Randolph began to calm down. Slowly, he felt the pain increasing in intensity as instinct compelled him to feast and recover from his injuries. Like a starving wolf, he ferociously tore into what flesh remained, consuming as much as he could to soothe the hunger and dull the pain. Normally a bit of a gourmand, Randolph savors the flavor and memories of the meat. But not this time, he is famished and agitated. He does not care to maintain his usual sophisticated behavior, right now he only cares to feast. The feast, however, would not last, after devouring what he could he still hungered. But that is fine, he still needs to break out, and there are countless more to feast on. Randolph ventured back into the earth, no reason to stalk the halls when he can be in a more comfortable environment. Burrowing once more, he navigated the 'outside' of the structure looking for prey. Perhaps he can rescue one of the others from some guards or other inmates, better for them to be indebted to him than the other way around.</s>	<\|message\|>Hauta Kanata Throughout the halls of the prison screams can be heard from the current riot. Tending to stay out of any confrontation that would ensue he had returned to his cell in which he began his daily mediation. As the noise erupting throughout the halls became louder and much closer it began to affect his ability to remain calm. His door swings open to an out of breath guard. Turning toward the currently meditating male sitting on the ground the guard approached cautiously the guard hadn't seen many inmates like this one calm unaware of the events outside in his mind this would be an easy target to get rid of as he had planned to use the cell as a place to hide until the events calmed down. After closing the door he grabs a knife from his hip and brings it up swinging downward aimed at the sitting subject's neck. Feeling the air around him move in a rushed feeling he knew in that instant the guard aimed to kill him why he doesn't know; nor does he care, he simply wished to be left alone to his own devices, but upon this man's insurrection he acts turning in a blinding speed as the knife misses its target instead cutting the ties that bind the male. As the wrapping fall a sudden gust of wind pushes the guard toward the door the knife launched into the air falls as if being manipulated falls swiftly into the hand of the man now free of his constraints he lunges forward in one swift motion cutting the throat of the guard and pushing him out of the way of the door. "Damn it", he says in a low voice at the now lifeless guard.`` Had you just sat there in the corner i would not have had to kill you" looking back at his now mess filled room, "guess i have to find a new meditation spot". He takes any keys or keycards that he finds on the body and opening the door he walks out taking note of his surrounding a blood trail nearby leading to the sounds of crunching, he instead chooses the opposite path best left to my own devices it be faster he thinks to himself he begins to move. Swiftly and silently he heads towards where he believes his weapon would be the personal property room reading the wind and using the slight changes in the air to detect movement he avoids most detection. Upon reaching the cafeteria he notices seven people still inside with all the commotion he had assumed it to be empty. Looking for a way to pass discreetly around noticing the knocked out guards that are in the direction he is heading. He instead of hiding decides to step out and introduce himself. "Hello, My name is Hauta mind if I join in on the festivities" in a polite manner with his hands up to show he means to harm.</s>
<\|description\|>Hauta Kanata Known Aliases: The Storm Age: 436 Appearance: Kanata has a male and female form both of which resemble each other to a degree both have black hair that comes down past their waist. A trait from their Yokai form , for which the male has leather like skin coming down from the top of his shoulder and down along his arms with eyes that glow bright when around others similar to his kind. The female form has a black leather like skin effect over one eye and its pupil red. They have olive skin and are around 5'8 in female form and 6 feet in male form. The proportions of his body change depending on a few key points, one of which is his choice. Psyche Profile: Usually free flowing and calm but can turn violent in the blink of an eye similar to that of the calm winds interrupted by a torrent hurricane. He Has a fear of losing his mind and rampaging so tends to hold back unless necessary. He tends to be more light hearted and drinks on occasion which he uses to forget his troubled past that follows him. Background: During the Edo period the wind blew and lightning crackled as two mongol fleets attempted to invade japan. The storm crushed the encroaching army as a baby lay in his mothers lap, his father standing next to her as he looked out at the now calm and beautiful ocean. He says to his wife one day you will inherit this power my son but for now I must leave the heavens have stirred and I must take my place during the chaos. The man then faces the dawn as the wind picks up around him leaving his wife and child on the edge of the cliff overlooking the ocean. That was the day Kanata was born. Skills, Talents and Learning: Has unmatched skill in close combat with his katana. He learns quickly and adapts due to his training as a samurai for the shogun. Power(s) and Capabilities: The ability to shift his body and control the wind around him his body shifts his body without pain into a new form and uses this as a self defense mechanism as injured body parts take from his undamaged spots. His wind abilities augment his speed and reaction times allowing for maneuvers otherwise unable to be done and can glide and jump for several stories . Power Limits and Vulnerabilities: access use of his shapeshifting to heal can cause him to become smaller and weaker in stature reverting to a child. And when pushed to the brink of death his Yokai instinct takes over to protect himself from the dangers which does not distinguish between friend or foe. needs semi constrictive clothing to use his powers effectively as he can not shapeshift past his current max space so if he's a younger version of himself put him into a bodysuit and he can't revert to an adult. Motives: Wants to escape and free himself from the shackles of his past. Oh yeah his wife wants to kill him. Recommended Containment Procedures: keep his sword away from him and use shinto preist blessed wrappings to contain his yokai powers negating his ability to shift and with his arms constrained he can only sense movements in the wind not use it as he doesnt have full control over his abilites yet</s> <\|message\|>Körbl Meier @TheRedWatcher @Klumsykrow357 @Perse @KaelRavenheart @SrslyAnArtist@The Man Emperor@Blazion @SrslyAnArtist Hmph. Seeing multiple people getting into the lift and taking their time, it was like seeing an anthive being open forcefully by a shovel. So many inmates, prisoners, and guards. Fighting desperately for their freedom. That kind of raw fight, where everything is on the line. It never gets tiring to see it. Then as Abby finally went inside and he joining her side, they were joined by others as the level that they're on will finally be traversed. Still, who knows how many levels are there left? Then someone apparently dropped right on top of their lift, one that had him instantly looked up and readied to fight but there was no hostile intent. Opening itself and with someone armed to the teeth as they deposited many weapons, Körbl eyes looked and sighted a sword. "Can I have one of those?"Körbl pointed to a Katana. It was no messer and he had never really utilized these before but it was better than nothing.</s> <\|message\|>Alfred Gunther Alfred Gunther/The Frostbite Never One... Without the Other Frostbite quickly flew in from the hallway, his path trailing with a cold aftermath of frost and snow. The Phoenix's eyes didn't blink at the grisly sights to both his left and right; perhaps this is because he was a creature of such primordial age, existing since before civilization had even risen in the earliest cradles of humanity. Short lived human lives were just numbers to it by now, the comprehension of the Frostbite and its brethren far beyond the ken of mere mortals. However, with those it chooses, to the men and women that he and the rest of the kind dare bind themselves to, they achieve an eternal mutual understanding, an intertwining of thoughts and emotions so deep that they could be said to be one being with two minds. The rest of those that stood in the way of the Frost Phoenix's freedom, however, will be made into history, though their names will be forgotten in the next centuries. "Before you ask, no, I'm not reverting. Not yet," Frostbite simply said as he folded his cold wings closer to his icy body the same way any other bird would. "Now where are the rest? If a league of superheroes come here before we can scatter into the four winds of the Earth, we're screwed."</s> <\|message\|>Ameliya Pyrrhus Mentioning: @Eviledd1984@ZephyrHope Striding quickly down the corridor, Ameliya only paid half attention as she saw the new guy make his way in front of her. He seemed to be in a rush but she couldn't blame him, she wanted to get in the elevator and see this hell hole in the background as fast as possible. Stomping into the elevator and taking a spot close to the back, Ameliya turned around to look around at the rest of the incoming group. "Get in quick or we are leaving you behind," She shouted out to the rest of the inmates. The younger women seemed to have other ideas though and held open the elevator waiting for everyone and anyone, leaving Ameliya staring at her unbelievably. Did she not understand what they were facing? A scowl crossed her face but instead of saying anything, she leaned against the elevator's wall, making it sizzle and melt slightly under her burning hot weight. Tsk The longer they were here the more likely they were going to get caught and if what they had experienced before was considered the norm, she really didn't want to know what their harsh punishment would be. Each second longer she watched the other members leisurely make their way into the elevator she found herself really wishing she knew where the stairs were. If they didn't all get their asses in here in the next minute, she was going to make the decision for Abby and get the old rust bucket of an elevator moving. That was about when someone jumped back down from the roof of the elevator and Ameliya was startled to stand back on her feet expecting another fight. Though she was surprised to find not only it was the guy who had gone in front of them, so that's where he went, but he also hands handfuls of ... gifts? Wait, wasn't that her sniper rifle? How the hell did he know the insignificant-looking guitar case would hold something helpful? and ... how did he know it was one of theirs? Ameliya looked at the man suspiciously for a moment before leaning over and with a hand no longer on flame, picking up the case. Her eyes never left him as she stared at him, waiting to see if this was all some kind of trick. Though standing back up with her sniper bag in her hand, Ameliya stood there bewildered. "...Thank you?" Ameliya said uncertainly, the words on her tongue feeling so foreign.</s> <\|message\|>Julia Kray Julia Kray --- --- @The Man Emperor@Restalaan@Eviledd1984@TheRedWatcher@Klumsykrow357@KaelRavenheart@SrslyAnArtist@Blazion@ZephyrHope Most of the fighting in the corridor had subsided as Julia raced to the elevator, smoking gun in gloved hand. Her eyes were still streaming from the tear gas that she had cowardly chosen to stew in while the others were either unaffected or had moved on to the corridor. The floor was slick with blood, though, and Julia slipped, lost her balance and fell hard, knocking the wind out of her. The gun clattered from her grasp and slid away out of reach. Forget the gun. Julia shakily got back to her feet and ran, slower and more careful this time, though that was making her take longer to reach the elevator most of the other had already reached. She was finally almost there, when she was tackled by a guard in full riot gear, who was already grasping at her arms to try to restrain her. Powered by nothing but adrenaline and fear, she thrashed at first, and let out a shrill, gut-wrenchingly desperate "NO!!" Again, before her rational mind could comprehend the weight of her actions, she acted instincually on self-preservation. Just like the police, and just like the guards. She shook off the glove on her right hand, and then grabbed the exposed skin of the guard's face, and squeezed. That was no accident. That was intent to kill. She desperately crawled to the elevator, too panicked to get up, and made her way inside. Only then did she get back to her feet, and look round at the guard. The veins in his face had all turned black, as had his eyes. He was choking in panic and agony as the poison spread rapidly throughout his body. He was still alive and convulsing when he fell to the ground, the excruciating pain and terror still showing in his facial expression. Julia looked away. She had turned pale, and her breathing was deep and labored. Her eyes were defocused and in shock. Her now bare right hand was being subconsciously covered and shielded by her still-gloved left hand. She didn't look at anyone. She didn't say anything.</s> <\|message\|>Lionel Gift Lionel Gift Lionel's small blonde eyebrow popped up once again as Mr. Q. informed him of the goings on in the other parts of the prison. His cell wing was supplied with its own generator and security systems, so any disruption to the main system would not affect his own circumstances. He shook his head in dismay. Genius went truly unappreciated in a place like this. No one could ever wait to execute a well thought out plan. It always ended up in brute force and a riot. So uncivilized. Still, he couldn't really complain. After all, if all went according to plan he would be able to finally be free of this accursed cell so that he could resume his good work. "I suppose it is exciting, though I must say, if they are this unruly when they are all focused on a single goal, how do you expect to keep them in line once they are free?" Lionel's face bore a slightly condescending smirk as he questioned the dark figure, but it vanished from his small lips as the man began asking questions about his abilities and their origins. "Curious about me are you? While I can understand your fascination, surely you don't believe me so foolish as to divulge potentially sensitive information on the nature of my capabilities so soon after we've only just met?" He pulled his hat from his head and clutched it tightly to his small chest, suddenly wringing it nervously as his eyes opened up into wide, fearful innocence and his voice trembled as he said "Please sir, I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. I just want to find my mommy and daddy. Can you help me?" He dropped the facade with a childlike giggle and placed his hat back atop his head, smirking at the imposing figure once more. "I'm suprised a man of your...capabilities doesn't already know the information you seek. Forgive me, but I do not think my debt to you warrants disclosure of my past. At least not yet. After all, I know nothing of your own past, now do I? So why should I offer that which is unlikely to be reciprocated. Quid pro quo, Mr. Q. But not yet. For now, I believe you have a riot to direct and I must practice my speech for whichever of your little pawns is the one to release me."</s>	<\|message\|>Hauta Kanata Looking at the inmates in the elevator startled at his entrance "I believe this is yours red" he said looking down to Ameliya handing her the sniper rifle. After receiving her thanks he paused then responded "you owe me a date after we get out of this Juliet" winking to her. Turning to the man who asked for his sword he looked at him interesting at first glance he immediately recognized a fellow swordsman though the way his muscles were built signified he trained with a different weapon than a katana. "Sorry kid this blade can only be used by me maybe if we get out of this I can forge you a new sword one more fit to your style". Turning to the rest of the people in the elevator "apologies I didn't bring gifts for everyone" .</s>
<\|description\|>Janet Bridgerson Known Aliases: Prof. Perfection Age: 107 Appearance: A severed head stuck inside of a half-spherical jar, attached to a black pedestal. Her face is pale and her hair is white; she looks roughly middle aged despite her actual age, and her eyes are narrow and dark. Most of her face is covered by a large respiration device that is hooked into the pedestal itself, and it's suspended in some kind of fluid. Her pedestal has simple white ridges running down it, wheels hidden underneath, and is otherwise featureless to the outside observer. Psyche Profile: Janet displays very little outward emotion, and while she does possess the capability for emotional response, testing has revealed it as being very stunted. She seems to hold no regard for life other than her own, and regards most things around her with cold spite. She does feel camaraderie in some cases, mostly with those she has attempted to lead on failed escape attempts over the years, but she rarely continues those relationships past the point of them being useful. She has made few request for accommodations despite the extreme nature of her confinement, largely revolving around being allowed brief excursions outdoors (largely denied) and reading material (approved in most cases). Displays obvious narcissism, but generally doesn't speak often. Background: In the course of the United States' involvement in WW2, a novel life support project was given a green light - simple extensions of the iron lung to work as replacement organs in the case of serious trauma, with the hopes that more elegant solutions could be devised when the war was over. Thanks to Dr. Bridgerson and people like her, though, the scope of the project was greatly expanded - they found simplistic-yet-effective methods of allowing a soldier's remaining nervous system to control prosthetics. The obvious applications were going to revolutionize medicine if they could be refined, but the D.o.W. could imagine the incredible combat applications. The Nazi "Eisenmänner" program, in reality, would never reach mass-production thanks to Allied super-agent efforts, but the specter of German fighting machines hung over the heads of Allied strategy-makers. Unfortunately, towards the end of the war - April 3rd, 1945, a little more than a month before Germany would surrender - with the project continuing briskly, it was brought to a halt by an equipment explosion that gravely wounded Dr. Bridgerson. The only option available to paramedics, aided by her research team, was to put her into one of the functioning early iron lung-like prosthetics. It'd remove almost all of her mobility, but they prayed for it to work. And it did! Dr. Bridgerson's work had ended up saving her life. Unfortunately, since she was the first and only test subject with this level of damage, she was kept inside the machine for further research. Time passed, and her support for the project eventually turned cold as she was kept hooked up for almost 20 years - spending almost every day staring at the ceiling with nothing to do but watch her colleagues poke at her. This came to a head when she managed to usurp control of one of the prototype prosthetic suits and burn her way out of that laboratory with little in mind but self-serving revenge. From around 1963 to 1997 she was quite famous as the self-proclaimed smartest mind the world had ever known, and the grand scale of her schemes had made her quite infamous - enough that, at the end of that time period, she was quickly and quietly confined to The Borehole without the simplest freedom of movement. Previous attempts at incarceration had failed spectacularly, so they didn't feel like risking it and simply keep her locked down in her room. Skills, Talents and Learning: Extremely intelligent, far beyond simple genius level. Her capability for quick learning is near-unmatched in fellow humans, and in general she maintains a wide breadth of knowledge. Her scientific knowledge extends into the theoretical but largely revolves around computers, machinery and robotics; she has the knowledge needed to create new thinking machines to suit just about any need. Despite last being imprisoned in the Windows95 era, has kept up with modern computing and network security. Power(s) and Capabilities: On her own, none. Her pedestal previously had a large amount of redundant weaponry and capabilities built in, such as lasers, jet-powered flight, electrified hull plating, remote computer control devices, and the like. All of these have been removed. The pedestal is still very durable, could probably take a tank shell and not break, but all it can do is move and prolong her life indefinitely. Power Limits: Her ability to create gadgets and weaponry is entirely limited by the resources available to her and the time to utilize them. Her mental capacity is astounding, but limited by shortsighted decisions made out of spite. Known Vulnerabilities: She's a severed head in a jar and is entirely dependent on advanced prosthetics to both survive and interact with the world around her. The pedestal she's currently housed in has been fully compromised by the powers that be; she has no control of it that isn't handed to her, its self-defense features have been physically removed, and it can be remotely locked down at any time. Motives: By this point she simply harbors hatred for all humanity and would like it if she could either get rid of it or fully subjugate it. There have been rumors of hidden "Perfect Bunkers" laying out in some remote part of the world, and it is assumed she would make a beeline for them if she had the opportunity to leave. Recommended Containment Procedures: A history of successful escape attempts by rallying other prisoners has proven troublesome enough to warrant surveillance when interacting with other prisoners. Her movement is to be locked down overnight. Despite lacking any means of manipulating technology, it is recommended to make a log of whatever technology is brought into her cell on the persons of guards/caretakers. Due to the continuing obsolescence of her equipment, a monthly diagnostic check is required. Notes: None at all, keep moving.</s> <\|message\|>Unpronounceable in human tongue. Kailani was still licking metal shards off her jaw as the giant creature emerged from the portal, shaking herself off as the tingle of magic passed. The elevator shaft back up to the floor everyone else was at still had the elevator in the way, so she had to eat through the bottom. Which wasn't a problem, since she got back in time to go through with everyone else! With new friend! There was pavement beneath her feet, so the alien felt comfortable setting Janet down with her strange wheel-feet before looking around. Almost instantly, Kailani forgot about the aches in her muscles, and it was as though sparkles manifested as the alien being seemed to vibrate in excitement. She bit a nearby stand in two. There were so many colors! And lights! And smells so poignant she could taste them on her tongue! And the new portal opening just added more! Kailani's tail whipped back and forth as two new people appeared, the delicious cold man speaking to them. "Goodbye Alfred! Your ankle was delicious!" Her tongue stuck out and licked up the side of the ice phoenix in the middle of his transformation in farewell, though her words were no more than loud chittering. Then she was back to the stand, digging through it. Whatever these twisty salty things were, they were delicious. Plus, there were people all around! It was like a buffet! Just, once she got the last of these crumbs…</s> <\|message\|>Abigail "Abby" Zebrowski @Restalaan @Blazion Abigail "Atom Bomb" Zebrowski The young woman took a moment to scan her surroundings, letting out a sigh of relief. Being far away from Novis was like a great weight lifted off her shoulders. However now she was weary of Mr.Q. Slowly standing up looking over towards Katana, "Are you, okay boss?" Her particular concern for the swordsmen was quite evident. Her steps were stagged as she was still severely wounded from battling Novis. Stumbling a little before falling down on her knees, "Does anyone know first aid…I'm not feeling so hot." From the corner of her eye, she could see Mr.Q approaching her. "Miss Zebrowski, I know I a doctor that would be able to heal your wounds. Unfortunately, we will have to go through another portal to his home in California." Abby bit her lip not wanting to take a detour and go straight to her father. Weighing her options finding that going with Mr.Q would minimize her recapture by the police. Her previous question was not answered as the Ameliya's group disappeared into the shadows. She was not sure if she should ask the others to join her, who in the right mind would want to go to Boston. Slowly turning her head towards Mr.Q to answer his question, "Just as long as we see my dad afterwards, and I assume you can manifest some new duds for me to wear?" Her response made Mr.Q smile with glee, Showing off his crooked yellow teeth. Her attention turned towards Korbl throwing a broken sword at her. Trying her best not to get cut trying to catch it, she was not sure if she should be thankful or not. Taking in his words thinking that she might need his help. "Thanks, I'll keep this in case I need to give ya a call." Bowing her head in a respectful manner. A dark presence could be felt by Mr.Q, he didn't like the idea that Korbl could ruin his plan. So he would have to find a way to get rid of the broken sword. Mr.Q muttered some words flicking his wrist back and forth, a small portal appeared in front of the two. Abby turned toward Kailani feeling bad if she ditched her in the middle of the amusement park. Although she would have a ball eating all of these people, that would only mean she would be recaptured again. Not wanting her to suffer under Novis again she spoke up, "Hi Kail do you wanna go with me to California? I'm sure we can get you a bunch of food to eat. And somewhere you can be safe for those people that wanna hurt you?" Again asking for people to join them made Mr.Q furrow his brow in annoyance. After finishing creating the portal, noticing a small crowd of people coming toward them. They would need to leave soon before the police are called.</s>	<\|message\|>Janet Bridgerson In the course of her career, if you could call it that, Janet had many different escape routes: through the sea, flying over mountains, hiding in dens of ill repute. None were so brazen as appearing in broad daylight, in front of dozens of panicked civilians, surrounded by other villains covered in blood and in the middle of an amusement park. Janet wondered if this was some kind of genius maneuver, beyond her own knowledge and experience, or not. Oh well. She was free, for the moment. Her longest stay in prison thus far, 25 years (give or take some months), had finally come to a close. Freedom, for whatever value it had, was secure for just a minute. With the rest of her fellow escapees being gravely wounded, cowering over those wounded people rather than leaving them behind, already leaving the grounds or concerning themselves with gluttony, it was clear that she needed to act fast if she wanted this freedom to be anything but momentary. Two others, one young and pierced, and the other crooked-toothed and finely dressed, walked over to Kailani. Inroads had already been made here, so Janet was ready to make use of them. "Excuse me." She wheeled over to the three, ignoring Kailani's violent consumption of an entire stand that had probably been sitting in the park for decades. A piece of pretzel slapped against her pedestal's side and slid off. "I'm afraid I'm behind on current events. If any of you are the orchestrators of today's exfiltration, then thank you, but let's skip further gratitude." "You would most likely know me as Professor Perfection. My reputation should precede me. If it does, you should know that I'm more than capable of getting us back on our collective feet, given time." She looked up at Mr. Q, specifically. The wounded man's disappearance, his "entourage" going alongside him, would speed up her timetable at least. "I do not have any inkling about what your next move will be. However," she glanced to the side at Abby, "I can give you somewhere to operate out of for the time being. I doubt any of you have contingency bases pre-prepared. What I lack is a means of transportation."</s>
<\|description\|>Janet Bridgerson Known Aliases: Prof. Perfection Age: 107 Appearance: A severed head stuck inside of a half-spherical jar, attached to a black pedestal. Her face is pale and her hair is white; she looks roughly middle aged despite her actual age, and her eyes are narrow and dark. Most of her face is covered by a large respiration device that is hooked into the pedestal itself, and it's suspended in some kind of fluid. Her pedestal has simple white ridges running down it, wheels hidden underneath, and is otherwise featureless to the outside observer. Psyche Profile: Janet displays very little outward emotion, and while she does possess the capability for emotional response, testing has revealed it as being very stunted. She seems to hold no regard for life other than her own, and regards most things around her with cold spite. She does feel camaraderie in some cases, mostly with those she has attempted to lead on failed escape attempts over the years, but she rarely continues those relationships past the point of them being useful. She has made few request for accommodations despite the extreme nature of her confinement, largely revolving around being allowed brief excursions outdoors (largely denied) and reading material (approved in most cases). Displays obvious narcissism, but generally doesn't speak often. Background: In the course of the United States' involvement in WW2, a novel life support project was given a green light - simple extensions of the iron lung to work as replacement organs in the case of serious trauma, with the hopes that more elegant solutions could be devised when the war was over. Thanks to Dr. Bridgerson and people like her, though, the scope of the project was greatly expanded - they found simplistic-yet-effective methods of allowing a soldier's remaining nervous system to control prosthetics. The obvious applications were going to revolutionize medicine if they could be refined, but the D.o.W. could imagine the incredible combat applications. The Nazi "Eisenmänner" program, in reality, would never reach mass-production thanks to Allied super-agent efforts, but the specter of German fighting machines hung over the heads of Allied strategy-makers. Unfortunately, towards the end of the war - April 3rd, 1945, a little more than a month before Germany would surrender - with the project continuing briskly, it was brought to a halt by an equipment explosion that gravely wounded Dr. Bridgerson. The only option available to paramedics, aided by her research team, was to put her into one of the functioning early iron lung-like prosthetics. It'd remove almost all of her mobility, but they prayed for it to work. And it did! Dr. Bridgerson's work had ended up saving her life. Unfortunately, since she was the first and only test subject with this level of damage, she was kept inside the machine for further research. Time passed, and her support for the project eventually turned cold as she was kept hooked up for almost 20 years - spending almost every day staring at the ceiling with nothing to do but watch her colleagues poke at her. This came to a head when she managed to usurp control of one of the prototype prosthetic suits and burn her way out of that laboratory with little in mind but self-serving revenge. From around 1963 to 1997 she was quite famous as the self-proclaimed smartest mind the world had ever known, and the grand scale of her schemes had made her quite infamous - enough that, at the end of that time period, she was quickly and quietly confined to The Borehole without the simplest freedom of movement. Previous attempts at incarceration had failed spectacularly, so they didn't feel like risking it and simply keep her locked down in her room. Skills, Talents and Learning: Extremely intelligent, far beyond simple genius level. Her capability for quick learning is near-unmatched in fellow humans, and in general she maintains a wide breadth of knowledge. Her scientific knowledge extends into the theoretical but largely revolves around computers, machinery and robotics; she has the knowledge needed to create new thinking machines to suit just about any need. Despite last being imprisoned in the Windows95 era, has kept up with modern computing and network security. Power(s) and Capabilities: On her own, none. Her pedestal previously had a large amount of redundant weaponry and capabilities built in, such as lasers, jet-powered flight, electrified hull plating, remote computer control devices, and the like. All of these have been removed. The pedestal is still very durable, could probably take a tank shell and not break, but all it can do is move and prolong her life indefinitely. Power Limits: Her ability to create gadgets and weaponry is entirely limited by the resources available to her and the time to utilize them. Her mental capacity is astounding, but limited by shortsighted decisions made out of spite. Known Vulnerabilities: She's a severed head in a jar and is entirely dependent on advanced prosthetics to both survive and interact with the world around her. The pedestal she's currently housed in has been fully compromised by the powers that be; she has no control of it that isn't handed to her, its self-defense features have been physically removed, and it can be remotely locked down at any time. Motives: By this point she simply harbors hatred for all humanity and would like it if she could either get rid of it or fully subjugate it. There have been rumors of hidden "Perfect Bunkers" laying out in some remote part of the world, and it is assumed she would make a beeline for them if she had the opportunity to leave. Recommended Containment Procedures: A history of successful escape attempts by rallying other prisoners has proven troublesome enough to warrant surveillance when interacting with other prisoners. Her movement is to be locked down overnight. Despite lacking any means of manipulating technology, it is recommended to make a log of whatever technology is brought into her cell on the persons of guards/caretakers. Due to the continuing obsolescence of her equipment, a monthly diagnostic check is required. Notes: None at all, keep moving.</s> <\|message\|>Janet Bridgerson The place they were taken to was nothing more, from what they could see, than a dusty old hole in the ground. A lift behind them rose about a hundred feet up to the surface, to a hatch buried underneath the ground and left untouched for decades. In front of them was a steel blast door, wide enough to fit a truck through - despite being larger than the lift down - seemingly devoid of any means of entry. Janet's brow furrowed. It'd take a little bit of sleuthing to figure out which one of these this was...to save on material costs, she tended to build these bunkers to a blueprint rather than be unique. While Mr. Q tended to the fallen girl, she replied "Potentially. Don't rush me," and trundled off to the side of the door. Behind a layer of cobwebs on the door was a simple cipher in white paint, a coded identification mark that she had inscribed herself upon the bunker's completion. Nothing to connect the base with her specifically, of course, just there to sort it out . She read its meaning out loud: "Type A PPMB. Rated for nuclear non-penetrating munitions. December 10th, 1973...North Dakota." There was a bit of satisfaction, hard to detect at first, in her voice as she explained. "There's nowhere else in the continent remote enough to build these things. Everyone goes to Alaska or Canada first." She tapped on a hidden panel, flipping open a very retro-looking keyboard, and she began to type in a long code. "Our enemies are far too used to going up north for hidden bunker busting. Do you recall a super by the name of Immortal Jones? Regeneration, bulletproof skin, that sort of small-minded brick of a man. He had to go to Alaska so often that he worked out a deal with airlines just to take economy flights up to Juneau. Our colleagues are rarely original." She briefly wondered what happened to Immortal Jones. Probably was in his 60s by now. Hopefully too decrepit to be a bother. The bunker doors slowly opened with a grinding squeal, protesting after being asked to move for the the first time in almost 50 years. "There is an operating table in here. Room 23. Medical supply should be fully stocked. Don't expect anything comfortable." Down the concrete-lined walls of the bunker, lights turned on one by one with a fluorescent whine - some failing to do so due to sheer age - and their new home away from home was opened up to them. Long, undecorated hallways lit up with faded lamps that colored everything a sickly yellow, leading to dozens of doorways without any identifying marks beyond number - storage, reserves of various pieces of equipment that would've been futuristic in the 70s, narrow bunk rooms for living personnel, file cabinets and such. There were a few doors leading to living accommodations for visiting allies of hers. They weren't large, looking more like hospital dorms than the luxurious arrangements of a visiting villain, but they had beds and that's enough to call a place home. There was only one place that wasn't spartan. A wide room meant for meetings between like-minded individuals, still ascetic in furnishings but nowhere near as functional. On one wall was a sweeping map of the world, still bearing all the hallmarks of an older time: the USSR was still existent, Africa's all but unrecognizable, many details are slightly different.</s> <\|message\|>Abigail "Abby" Zebrowski @Blazion Abigail "Atom Bomb" Zebrowski Mr. Q used his magic to lift Abby's body from the ground, her body floating a few inches off of the ground. Placing his hands on a human's body was quite beneath him. Following Janet into the medical room, Letting Abby's body float onto the cold metal slab. "Thank you." He said muttering some words as a large portal opened inside of the room. A middle aged man walked through the portal wearing some duck themed pyjamas, "There had better been a good reason you wanted to meet at 3 in the morning." The older man eye's looked over the heavily wounded Abby, "I assume you'd want me to do some patchwork on this girl." His wrinkled finger pointed towards Abby's unconscious body. "It would be greatly appreciated, your work will be paid handsomely by the brotherhood." The older man thought for a moment before nodding his head, Mr.Q's employers have always paid well for his services so declining his offer would be ridiculous. "I'm sure you know my price Q." Mr.Q nodded his head with a big smile on his face. The older man was scrambling around being confused by the medical tools caked with dust. He didn't know where to start, turning to face Mr.Q with a grimace. "These tools will not do Q, I'm sure you can conjure something for me to work on this girl, you wouldn't want her getting an infection right?" The demon knew that the medical equipment was too old to fully diagnose and fix Abby's wounds. Snapping his fingers at newer medical equipment and tools around the room. "I believe this should be satisfactory. Please excuse me I have other business to attend to." Floating out of the room, leaving the door open for Kailani to enter the room if she had not already followed the two. Mr.Q floated into the large meeting room where Janet was. Floating behind her and looking over her shoulder. "Your bunker is quite impressive, I remember I was in a similar bunker a long time ago. All I remember however is their leader having a funny little mustache." Floating towards one of the dusty chairs in the middle of the room. "Sitting" down in the chair that a leader of the country would be seated. Although his sitting consisted of behind floating a few inches from the seat. "I am curious, and you would not mind me asking what your next plan of action is?" The well dressed demon folded his long pale hands together in front of him. Mr.Q always found humans to be quite interesting, especially evil people and their Machiavellian plans.</s>	<\|message\|>Janet Bridgerson Professor Perfection, as Mr. Q might have caught her, was standing beside a low control panel in the conference room. Her technology was always ahead of the curb, yes, but given how far removed they were from the 1970s...it was far from current. Command line interfaces and simple processing power; lines drawn with light against a black background instead of pixels on a screen. If they were going to be working out of here for any length of time, Janet was going to have to replace these... She sighed. After Mr. Q spoke, she turned her pedestal around from the tiny screen and past him, wheeling around with a tiny remote in her hand. "You must have been waiting some time to ask that. If I were to guess, you simply wanted to ask me as a prelude to divulging your own designs for the world." She briefly looked at him, trying to gauge his constant self-assuredness. It was the one and only time she looked directly at him this conversation. "Very well-rehearsed designs." She rolled over to the side of the table, placing the remote and immediately beginning to disassemble it. Honestly, 70s Janet, making a device that needs to be broken open to change the batteries...what were you thinking? "I've had much time to think about it. The first and most obvious goal would be to exact revenge and personally kill some of the directorial staff of Thornwood. I have no idea how far you and your friends managed to get on that front before breaking out." She tosses a piece of casing behind her as a couple more metallic graspers snake out of her pedestal, reaching for unseen drawers beneath the wide table and pulling out more 50~ year old technological bits. "However. I realize that such a goal is short-sighted and ultimately caused by my pent-up frustration getting the better of me. I can put it aside for now." "Otherwise? I know it is uncharacteristic of me to say this, but I will admit that I am on my back foot." She begins to quickly re-assemble the device, improved hopefully. "I need to see what has changed in the past few decades. I need to rebuild a small empire that has almost assuredly been picked clean by the jackals I'd call my colleagues during my internment. Can't blame them. Weapons, machines, all sitting around in bunkers like this one, and usually far less well-kept of a secret." She holds the remote upward, and inspects it. "I suppose figuring out your existence is the first step. What are you, exactly. Clearly fantastic in nature. The sort who lords over others with casual violation of physics. A self-described magician? An otherplanar entity? Go ahead and describe yourself."</s>
<\|description\|>Raider Threat: Low-Moderate Description: Professional sellswords aren't always hired to guard just caravans or be part of a proper army. Sometimes they're hired by brigands or even lords to raid their enemies, or menace the local rebellion population. Either way these warriors are a step above your typical rabble and are actually trained fighters, and are often armed with proper armor and better weapons. Still they're more used to being used against a weaker or less numerous foe, or as auxiliary to a proper army. Keep you wits about you and your sword-arm strong and you can stand up against these foes. ---</s> <\|message\|>Sheol Of Night It has been many years since Amelia's capture at the hands of steppe raiders. An unfortunately common fate of many women, and hers was no different. Not too long after her initial capture she was sold off to many different men and women, many of them cruel and barbaric. Others who were captured alongside you were either taken by other buyers or perished on the journey, and it wasn't until you reached the frozen tundras of the Vaegirs you found an opportunity to escape. Your previous master was an aspiring lord, a wandering knight who had taken you and many other women as part of his harem, after slaying the previous bandits who had brought you already. Far from noble, he expected you to serve him faithfully for his "rescue", and despite his arrogance he was indeed very skilled with a sword. Fortunately for you, one of the other slave women was willing to distract him, smuggling you and the others the key to escape while she spent the night with him. During that time you were able to carry off some equipment, mostly loot from previous battles. You escaped alone, the others having gone their separate ways to flee from the knight should he realize what had happened and gives chase. However for better or for worse, a blizzard had struck that night, hiding your trail but threatening your life. After a sleepless night of running you manage to reach the village of Sumbuja, where you took refuge in a farm house. The place looked well enough but there wasn't much in the way of livestock or crops: it must've been winter now, and with it everyone was housed inside just trying to survive. At the very least, it wasn't snowy down here, so you were able to find a dirt road leading south, taking you to the city of Reyvadin. All sorts of folks were coming and going, farmers coming to market, merchants to trade with townsfolk, mercenaries looking to sell their blades, or soldiers awaiting their next orders. However by the time you arrive it was already nightfall, and you barely managed to get inside before the gates were closed. Honest folks were already heading indoors, and the city was big enough for you to get lost in without people to give direction. Tired, hungry, and cold, you would wander the streets looking for an inn when you could hear the rasp of a blade being drawn. Behind you was a lone man, wearing a masked helm that hide his identity. He cursed under his breath: you had spotted him before he could've ambushed you. There was no guard in sight, and you could hear nary a whisper from the buildings around you. You seemed to be alone, and this man knew it as he came charging right at you, blade in hand, looking to take either your money or your life. He must've been following you because you could see that you had walked right into a dead-end alley as well: the only way to escape was pass him. Now you must act, less you suffer the fate you had already worked so hard to escape.</s> <\|message\|>Amelia Starwen Amelia cursed at the sight of the man charging her. She didn't have much time to think as she was backed up into a dead end. Her hand fell to her side, gripping the worn leather hilt and pulling a short sword from the scabbard tied at her waist, barely managing to grip it. So cold, tired.... She was unsure if she'd have the strength to fend off this attacker, but she had come so far! She had to try! "Leave me alone!" she yelled out, her voice hoarse and dry from so long of never using it, she sounded almost like a stranger to herself. Amelia learned long ago to keep quiet and do as told or suffer further punishments. "Please," she said, the last part barely a whisper and mostly to herself to hold on and prepare for the fight. She steadied herself, staring the man down and waited... waited until he was close enough she could side step him and swing the blade at a downwards angle towards his arm. Being no expert, she felt her grip falter a little, but was quick to tighten her grip again and drive the edge of the blade towards the man.</s>	<\|message\|>Raider Your words seem to fall on deaf ears, an experience you know all too well. The man continued his charge, raising his blade above his head to strike. At the very least you could tell this man was no soldier: the raiders who took you had better form than this thug. No doubt he simply expected his size and ferocity to make up for any deficiencies in his technique. Were you a peasant this would've been enough to end you, but at the last moment before he brought down his blade you were able to dodge him and tried to cut his arm. Instinctively, he raised his hand to block, getting cut across the forearm. He had a thick layer of cloth as a makeshift form of armor, but even that didn't prevent him from getting cut by your blade. He grunted in pain, having to switch to his less dominant but uninjured arm and began to swing wildly at you in close-quarters. It was hard to tell if this man was trying to take you alive or not: he certainly wasn't trying to be careful. Fortunately the man's wild swings, as scary as they are, were predictable since he treated his sword more like a club than a blade, making exaggerated movements to try to get the most force out of each swing, which would give you more than enough time to dodge him. It doesn't seem like he was trying too hard to defend himself despite your ability to fight back, presumably he expects you to go down easily. As you dodge his blows, he lunges and stabs his sword, missing you shoulder and his blade plunges into a wooden pillar. For a second, he is stuck, giving you a chance to act.</s>
<\|description\|>Emmet 'Butcher' Dukes Character Sheet Appearance: Alias: Markeith Singh Age: 27 Gender: male Description: (Height, weight, skin/hair/eye colour, build, special features, etc.) Height: 5' 11" Skin: Terra Cotta Hair: Dark Caramel Brown Eyes: Hazel Special features: strong cheekbones, mild scar tissue across chest Role: Knight Specialty: close quarters fighting, both with and without weapons. He is nimble and quick, dodging almost any strike before using one fell swoop to take out his competition. Personality: Emmet is a well-groomed and happy go lucky man in his free time, well known for his boisterous laugh and his perfect shave. He talks often about his beauty routines and loves to make pleasant conversation. In combat though, Dukes becomes another man. He gets into a deep focus and his face goes blank. He dances around his competition with great grace, but no joy, and he does not stop until all ki has left their body. Once he finishes fighting, he returns to his normal self, as if nothing had ever happened. Background: The Butcher was born under the name Markeith Singh to a noble family in Belisio. At his birthday a rapier was made for him, one that he would be raised to use. It was named rasselbock and forged of the best metal money could buy. During his upbringing Singh was raised for war, his education surrounding the use of his rapier in dueling and modern sidearms in close quarters combat. He learned of how to command those below him and how to defend himself should he enter hand-to-hand combat. Upon his eighteenth birthday he was presented with the blade that was his birthright, yet something did not feel right. Throughout all his education he had learned how to lead others and how to defend himself, yet with this he had been taught how to tell other men to kill for him. That year he snuck out of the house one evening and found his way to a place he had heard about, known simply as the dome. Deep under the streets he put on his powered chest plate and took his blade. It was supposed to be a light duel, first to draw blood won. He danced around his opponent, leaping to and fro as he played with his food. The crowd watched and laughed, seeing the large brute that Singh faced take swing after swing to no avail. Finally, with the crowd at the climax of entertainment and with his foe tired he lunged into to strike with force. He suddenly felt an odd power flowing through his veins, and as he went in his vision blurred and he felt his arms move beyond what he ever believed his could do. Silence surrounded him followed by a large thud, and suddenly his full vision returned to him. On his rapier was blood, and he turned to the crowd in victory as they watched in horror. Suddenly he realized what had happened and seeing the gurgling corpse on the floor he realized he had gone too far. He quickly fled, realizing that he had murdered a man. For the next week he went into the depths of his home city, seeing and living amongst the wretches of society. He was unsure how to react to the sights he saw, and he came to realize that not much had changed from his family's previous actions. After all, what was the difference between the man he had stabbed and the wretched and starving poor whom his family had not helped despite their great wealth? He did not ponder the question for long, because he was more focused on his own monetary situation, as he had nothing beside his blade and his armor to provide for him. By some divine providence though he was saved by an unfamiliar face who had tracked him down. The man, wearing a long trench coat with a high collar had seen his crimes that fateful night, and he knew that Singh had nowhere else to go. He took the boy in and helped him rebrand himself. A new set of clothes and fake papers later Singh was now Dukes, and he had a job offer from the man. And so Emmet 'the Butcher' Dukes was born, and he began his work in a place known as the Pit, an illegal underground operation that saw nightly performances of duels and fights that only stopped when one man lay dead. Dukes quickly became a prized fighter, slaying many in the pit. He lost all love for the game he was in though over time, and it simply became a monotonous dance for an uncaring and criminal crowd. After nine years of his career, Dukes was finally found by city authorities. He was brought to trial on account of murder and some other petty crimes he purportedly committed during his career in the Pit. He was found guilty on all accounts, but on death row he was given one last chance by the government - after some intervention from his family who were delighted at the news of their living son. All he had to do was give his skills to the military and he would be spared from execution. What else was a boy to do in a situation like this? Equipment: a rapier, a power armor chest plate, a small locket with a family crest, laz revolver, energy buckler, laz dagger, automatic plasma caster, stick grenades, and spiked boots that can be used for climbing surfaces. Abilities: powerful use of ki for unnaturally fast movement and reflexes, dancing and feats of gymnastics, strong lunges, and the ability to disarm opponents in close combat. He also uses his ki to heal himself from terrible wounds at an incredibly fast rate. Finally, through his primary weapon, rasselbock, he is able to concentrate his ki in order to empower his weapon, in which the guard of the weapon grows into his flesh and he becomes one with it. In this state he is wounded, but he gains almost complete connection with his weapon which glows with the spirit of the fight, during this time his sheer willpower can allow his blade to pierce through armor and plates that no blade this old should be able to pierce through. After using this he is quite tired and requires rest, this process is also extremely painful.</s> <\|message\|>Turzo Drunoda Turzo "Wrath" Drunoda The speech went as well as he could hope with the muscle bound meat heads and the ever so silent shadows lingering in the corner. The specters were definitely different they represented the saying, desperate times call for desperate measures. Not even the empire would push the human body so far with so many machines unless they were slave and a prized possession of a noble family. One who takes more value in the physical means of a person then what makes them a person in the first place. The mages seemed to be rather distant or at least quiet not wanting to speak up so far. The knight across from them apparently called Kass spoke up as more soldiers filtered in, another noble knight by the looks of him. Still the traitor comment did catch his attention but did not let it show that it got under his skin. "Unfortunately for you noble knight I neither have the time nor the crayons to explain the empires judicial system to you. However you can rest assured that because of an oath I swore, I am honor bound to fight against my nation. It's a concept I don't expect you to understand but I'm sure you will eventually." He wasn't so high up on his pedestal to not be able to throw around a few insults now and then, by the smile on his face anyone could tell he enjoyed provoking the others. He was telling the truth after all, the justice system of the Vaim Empire was strife with loopholes and ancient customs that unless the Emperor himself wills it can be very hard to navigate. The oath of justice he swore was the reason he was fighting alongside them. The old and rarely used custom that he invoked was used in times of trouble for the empire. If one saw something that needed changed they could challenge it. Depending on what it was, was dependent on what the individual had to do to change it. Most used this to lobby for small changes within the empire and few would go to the lengths he had. To put it simply one had to bring the case to the courts with evidence that something was wrong and effort by the person submitting it to show how important and or serious it was to them. These cases were always for the betterment of the empire and ultimately the emperor would have the final say. For Turzo he had seen the corruption within the empire and its armies, they were supposed to be there to grow the empire and annex the surrounding nations. When he saw the rampant strife and destruction his fellows were doing to those who were conquered and made members of the empire angered him. Even if they were a slave they still had some rights on their path to being a full citizen. Seeing this he called in every favor and spent most of his wealth on people that would gather information and proof of these crimes while he went into self-isolation to fight against his own countrymen. Through this he would gather his proof and show his effort by fighting. He knew that either on his death or when he returned he will be judged. Ultimately deciding whether he would be executed, exiled permanently, or rule that he was correct. Obviously people would fight him over it but in his eyes he was still an honorable patriot of the Vaim Empire. Taking stock of their surroundings once more as the knight commander spoke up and began talking about the battle plan and how it was going to change. He took a better note of the "witch" standing next to him and the other mage covered in black that took up a position on the other side of him. Judging by their gear neither looked like the type that would be best at a distance like himself. Still they were battle mages like him just like the others behind him as well. He wondered how many would be able to make it out as the door to the hangar slid open revealing the battle ground below. "For the glory of the Empire." He spoke under his breath and turned toward their shuttle. then he called out to the other mages, "Come friends, let's show these lessor's just what power truly is." With a smile he stepped up onto the shuttle but kept close to the door. The glow from him began to intensify as he worked on his breathing. It was time to get into the zone and be ready to be the destroyer he was made to be.</s> <\|message\|>Vires Arcturus Spaeros Vires "The Griff" Spaeros Pt 2. \| Knights Banter Kass snarled at Drunoda, "No one wanted an explanation! I am reminding you of who you are and where you stand in this lot! Prove us wrong or don't, I will take pleasure in responding to both!" "Peace, Kass." Words that shocked the depths of Kass' being like a thunderous whisper. Kass held tremendous respect for Roland, her wits snapping back into place. Her gaze quickly reoriented toward's the Lion of Belisio. She purged her thoughts quickly to give room for Roland's address. Dante did not do the same. He was one of the seven Knights who followed Griff by choice stood in the far back with Ciri and Lucia. Dante was the silent type who kept himself brief in conversation, but when he did speak, his tongue dropped heavy and thoughtful prose. Slender in physique, agile, and accurate. He was a marksman and short ax handler. His abilities surrounded his speed of execution. Dante tilted his head back. He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. In his mind he imagined the sounds of his hometown, Bova. Dante drifted across cliff sides as waves crashed into the high rock walls, until he reached the water well at the center of a loosely stoned town square with the smell of baking bread and strings of the church band playing. His vision took him through the narrow warm corridors that revealed a familiar wooden door opening into his mother and father's den. Both smiling as they sat at the family table sipping coffee from this morning's brew. His mother gently cutting a small piece of bread for Dante's father, and then placing another piece on an empty plate before an empty seat. His vision pulled him toward the empty seat as the calling of his sister echoed from upstairs, "I'm coming!", the footsteps of a 9-year old eager girl charged down the steps with a big smile on her face taking her seat. Dante's vision stopped pulling him toward the family table, they all placed their heads down clasping hands, his father praying and then releasing with the final comment, "So be it." His father looking up to gaze into Dante's being. Immediately the vision rushed Dante out of the house, toward the town square, up into the sky, and back to the waves crashing against the cliffside. Dante opened his eyes as he felt Ciri's finger draw a tear away from his eye, "Are you ready?" She asked gently. Dante tilted his head forward, commanding his attitude back into formation, "Are we ever Ciri?" She replied, "No." And then smiled, "So be it." Dante whispered back, "So be it." When Roland finished, Griff turned around toward his compatriots, "We do not define the outcome, but we will define how it is told. No matter what happens when we dive, find each other, stand together, stand firm, and then we move forward." Griff paused, he looked at Dane, Federo, Kass, Ciri, Dante, Lucia, and Omir, each nodding their heads out of recognition and love. They had fought alongside each other for quite some time, and each knew this campaign would be different than any other they've ever suffered before. Before Griff turned back to lead them into the shuttle he noted out loud, "Remember…no heroes, only Knights." The 7 responded, "Strength and Honor!" The group moved toward the shuttle following Leonis.</s>	<\|message\|>Emmet 'Butcher' Dukes Emmet "the Butcher" Dukes Shock and Awe: Part 2 Emmet and his fellow knights marched through the hanger onto their shuttle. It was a piece of machinery to behold, never had warfare been so quick. Each knight took his place within the shuttle, remaining in their formation. Each man stood, holding the safety handles above. Little light entered the shuttle, leaving the men in dim lighting with their faces obscured. Some took this time while waiting for takeoff to prepare themselves. Some smoked a pipe, some prayed, and others simply took deep breaths. Emmet was cleaning his blade, Rasselbock, one last time before going into battle. He used a cloth that he kept in his belt, and he carefully wiped the dust off the edges of his tool. He did not know why he cleaned it, it made no difference to his enemy. Perhaps it was out of a sanctity for life, or maybe it was pure vanity. Either way, he knew that hours from now he would be cleaning it the same way with some more disposable cloths, as he did not like to keep a bloodied blade. The blade now shined in the light of the shuttle, a reflective surface that gleamed through the dead of night that the men found themselves in. Emmet thought to sheath it for a moment, but instead he held onto it and grabbed the rail above his head with his free hand. Focusing his ki, Emmet began to put all his energy into his hand in preparation for the coming conflict. He felt the glow of his blade grow stronger, and a slight hum came from it. His hand began to sweat, and the guard began to shift. The ornate strands of metal began to wrap around his hand, and he felt the pressing of metal upon his flesh. His breath quickened, and he suddenly felt a deep and intimate connection with his blade, ready to move with unnatural speed. Now prepared, he looked up to his men and broke the silence. "I will not lie to you, this work we now undertake is not tranquil, it is not ascetic, and it is not beautiful. Our blades and our clothes will be sullied with the blood of other men. They are exactly that, other human beings. The propaganda would like to tell you otherwise, and you know why? It's because it's the only way to survive. I know some of you have not seen conflict like this, and I give you this advice: know that you are fighting men, but do not let yourself feel it. It is the only way to live with yourself." With that he fell silent, and so the shuttle remained.</s>
<\|description\|>Myra Hayes Home: Originally from Alpharetta, Georgia, United States (near Atlanta). Now attending college in College Park, Maryland, United States. Appearance: Myra is 31 and looks about 10. She is a bit tall and gangly for her age. Her peach-colored hair is cut just shy of shoulder-length. Her warm light brown eyes match the warm smile that's often seen on her face. She likes to wear pretty "Southern belle" sundresses but will settle for a sweater dress and scarf when it's cold. Personality: Myra is typically a bubbly and friendly person, perhaps to a fault. Though she's okay with friendly Pokemon battles, she can't stand interpersonal conflict, and will often… bend the truth a bit rather than say something that will make other people angry. That, combined with a tendency to speak before thinking when she gets excited, has led to a reputation of being a sweet and fun friend to hang out with but not a deep friend you can share your secrets with. Sometimes she becomes anxious and jittery when the web of subtle lies grows too big and complex. Myra also has some trouble sticking up for herself and her beliefs if it would involve an argument, instead choosing to wait out or circumvent the situation. Those flaws aside, Myra has a sunny and friendly personality that can put most people and Pokemon at ease, and she is more than willing to help a person in need if she has time to spare. Biography: Myra is the youngest of three siblings. She has a normal upper-middle-class suburban family, except for one thing: her parents hate Pokemon. They are dangerous, and smelly, and make a mess all over the place with their fur or feathers or boiling magma and whatnot. And trainers are even WORSE. They are just handed free airfare, free supplies, free healthcare for their brutally beaten "companions," and for what? The entertainment value? The world needs more doctors and lawyers who WORK and contribute to the good of society for an honest living, not more freeloading Pokemon trainers. At a young age, Myra learned two things: that she likes Pokemon, and how to lie. If she got fur on her clothes after feeding a wandering street Pokemon, she'd say it must have rubbed off from her friend's clothes. When she joined the after-school Pokemon club, she told her parents she had joined the track team, which was -technically- true and worked out pretty well until she was kicked off the track team for non-attendance. Of course, becoming a Pokemon trainer at age 30 was out of the question. Myra was urged to apply for colleges and ended up going to University of Maryland to major in Communications. It wasn't the closest or cheapest option, but Myra said she wanted to get a little distance from home in order to learn how to be an independent adult, an admirable goal. In reality, she wanted to move far from home so her family wouldn't find out that the college plan was just a facade, and her REAL plan was to become a Pokemon trainer! Over the past few months, Myra has passed the trainer test, gotten a couple Pokemon, and participated in a few battles between her studies. She has been able to keep her Pokemon secret from her family, and she even paid extra to stay in her dorm over winter break. But now comes the real test: the big family Christmas and New Year's gathering in Knoxville, TN. Will Myra be able to keep her secret for just over a week? Pokemon: Perry – Bulbasaur – male – level 11 – hardy nature – Overgrow – Tackle, Vine Whip, Growth, Leech Seed Myra chose Bulbasaur as her starter because of the claim that Bulbasaur are "easy to train." She didn't want an unruly Pokemon to blow her cover. Perry turned out to fit the expectation. He is a rather dependable, loyal, and well-behaved Pokemon, though he acts too serious at times and struggles with the concept of "fun." Flicker – Litwick – female – level 8 – impish nature – Infiltrator – Astonish, Smog, Ember, Minimize Flicker, on the other hand, might blow Myra's cover and relish in it. She is a childlike soul who loves wandering away and playing Hide and Seek – whether or not anyone else has agreed to play. She misbehaves not out of malice, but out of the pride of being able to escape anyone, get into anywhere, and the innocent (in her eyes) fun of startling people and Pokemon.</s> <\|message\|>Myra Hayes Myra Hayes Knoxville, TN, United States "Excuse me, miss," a store clerk began. "Can I help you find something? You've been looking for quite a while." Myra looked up from her stooped position, a bit of pink flushing her cheeks. Rows of scented candles lined the aisle surrounding her. She put a handful of small votive candles back on the shelf and stood to greet the clerk. "Uhh, I don't suppose you've seen a Litwick around these parts?" Myra asked with a sheepish smile, brushing a few strands of peach-colored hair out of her eyes. "She came here last time she wandered off." The clerk frowned slightly. "Sorry, I don't believe I have." "Oh, I might've seen it!" a customer interjected. "I saw a little white thing walking on a roof on Main Street. It was too far away to really know if it was a Litwick, though." Myra let out a small gasp, feeling the best thrill of hope she'd had all afternoon. "Oh, thank you!" Myra gushed at the random customer. "You're such a dear. Perry, let's go." Hearing his name, the Bulbasaur paused his painstaking inspection of candles. He used his vines to place a discounted gingerbread-scented candle back on the highest shelf and followed his trainer out the door. "We oughtta go back there after we find Flicker," Myra rambled, talking more to calm her nerves than for an actual purpose. "I've never seen a sugarplum candle before. You reckon the real thing smells like that?" Perry didn't respond. The grass-type was already scanning the roofs and sniffing the air, laser-focused on the task at hand. Myra and Perry entered Myra's hovercar, Perry sticking his head out the rolled-down window. The girl felt a little anxious about leaving Perry out of his Pokeball for so long. What if somebody saw them and ratted her out to her family? But right now, the lost Litwick was a bigger problem. Risky as it was, Myra needed another pair of eyes to help her. Myra began hovering toward Main Street, riding low and slow to keep an eye out for Flicker. Meanwhile... At some point, Flicker's hiding spot began to make a soft whirring sound. Then it began to rise up into the air. Flicker peeked out of the hoverbike's satchel just in time for it to speed forward. The Litwick realized what was happening and put on a mischievous grin. Looks like she was going for a ride! After a couple minutes, Flicker decided to find out who her kindly chauffeur was. She climbed out of the bag and was immediately nearly knocked off by the wind rushing past the bike. Flicker held on for dear life, eyes wide, flame spurting diagonally from the top of her head. Usually she scared other people, but this time SHE was the one scared..... what a thrill! Flicker giggled, the sound barely covered by the motor and wind. Soon, the hoverbike slowed, perhaps nearing an intersection. Flicker gathered her bearings and noticed a young black-haired boy driving the bike. With an impish smile, the Litwick silently maneuvered around the hoverbike's frame. She landed right behind Reno with the biggest THUMP her six-pound body could muster and let out a chilling shriek.</s> <\|message\|>Reno Kelly Reno KellyKnoxville, TN December 29th, 2099 The Hitchhiker Reno had made it to the city's edge, and was stopping to plot a course home. That's when he heard it. The shriek was barely audible over the sound of traffic behind him and through his helmet, but it was just enough. Reno turned around and saw the little Litwick. "What in the world? Where did you come from little one?"</s> <\|message\|>Myra Hayes Myra Hayes Knoxville, TN, United States Flicker sagged a little in disappointment. She was hoping for a bit more of a reaction... not entirely aware that inciting a big reaction on a moving hoverbike would be a pretty poor choice. In response to the boy's question, Flicker looked around. And kept looking, spinning around in a circle. She had not the slightest clue where she was. The Litwick shrugged. She looked a bit nervous for a second, but soon she put on a smiling face again and tried to climb around Reno to reach the handlebar.</s> <\|message\|>Reno Kelly Reno KellyKnoxville, TN December 29th, 2099 The Hitchhiker Reno smiled as the tiny candle Pokemon jumped her way onto this handlebars. "Okay," He said, still smiling. "So you're lost, and you want to ride up front. Got you." He then paused to think, to think about his next move. "I got it! You must have gotten on my bike last time I was stopped, back at the Lab. I bet your trainer is waiting for your there, assuming you have a trainer already." With a destination picked out, Reno turned around and zoomed off, back toward the Pokemon Lab. He half hoped that he wouldn't find a trainer there waiting. Maybe this was a wild Litwick that he could catch for himself... Somehow, he knew that wouldn't be the case.</s> <\|message\|>Myra Hayes Myra Hayes Knoxville, TN, United States Flicker grinned as the hoverbike sped forward. It was a much smoother ride now with a better handhold, and a driver aware of her presence. As the hoverbike slowed for traffic, the Litwick spotted a small yellow hovercar cruising low. Could it be Myra's? With no warning, Flicker hopped off Reno's hoverbike. Fortunately, the ghost-type had some ability to hover, and she floated down slowly for a soft landing. Unfortunately, Flicker was way off on her estimation of speed and timing, and the yellow car was already long gone by the time Flicker passed its level. Flicker landed next to a big bare tree. She grumbled in frustration and began stomping back toward the main road. Just three steps later, she walked right into a wall of taut yarn or something. The Litwick struggled to pull against the sticky wall for a second. Then, with a little focus, she was able to phase through the object and rematerialize on the other side, pulling at a couple strands of thread that still stuck to her wax. Though she escaped the web, just the brief struggle was enough to alert the Pokemon waiting nearby. Flicker cried out as a Pokemon pounced on her and struck her with a Poison Sting. The Litwick feigned fainting for a second, just enough to catch the attacker off guard. Then she squirmed around and screeched at the attacker, flame flaring. The Astonish caused the wild Pokemon to flinch just long enough for Flicker to scramble out of its eight-legged grasp. Flicker glanced at the tree to see two wild Spinarak regrouping to attack.</s> <\|message\|>Reno Kelly Reno KellyKnoxville, TN December 29th, 2099 The Hitchhiker Litwick jumped off the front of Reno's bike before he had a chance to stop her. 'Shit.' he thought to himself. He didn't know why she jumped, but he couldn't just leave the little Pokemon behind. It obviously had a knack for getting lost. So he began his decent. Luckily he didn't have that far down left to go, as they were almost back at the Pokemon Lab already. Once he could turn around he did, headed back toward where Litwick had jumped. When he got to the area where she should have landed, he couldn't see her. Surely she was in the area, but finding her would be difficult; she was just SO tiny. That's when he heard a screeching noise, that sounded a lot like the noise the Litwick had made to get his attention when he met her. 'That can't be good.' he thought, and zoomed straight toward the sound. He found Litwick in no time. She wasn't far away. If she were an average sized Pokemon, he probably would have seen her first. In any case, he was here now, and just in time it seemed. Litwick was facing off against two mean looking Spinarak. "You sure know how to find trouble don't you?" Reno said, as he got off his hoverbike and took off his helmet. The Spinarak seemed momentarily stunned by the new arrival, but this didn't last long. It was, however, just long enough for him to pull out Fennekin's Pokeball and summon her into battle. "Litwick, if you know any Fire type moves yet, now would be the time to use one. Together, we can scare these spiders away." He then turned his attention to his own Pokemon. "Fennekin, use ember on the left Spinarak!" This wasn't how he pictured his first Pokemon battle, but it was now or never. He hadn't had any time to practice with his Fennekin, but if his studies were right, she should know Ember by the time she was ready to go off with a trainer. Fortunately, he was correct. The tip of Fennekin's tail caught fire with a small flame. She then swung it, and sent the little bit of fire straight at her target!</s>	<\|message\|>Myra Hayes Knoxville, TN, United States Flicker stood rigid, stunned by the fast sequence of events. She looked vaguely toward Reno as he spoke and then numbly glanced around the battlefield. "Flicker!" a voice called out. "Use Ember... on the left... one, too!" Myra arrived at the scene, stooping forward to pant after the jog. Perry had managed to catch a glimpse of a Litwick as it floated behind the hovercar. Myra was able to park and reach the battle site not long after Reno - though Perry the Bulbasaur was still working toward reaching the scene with his stubby legs. The Litwick snapped out of her daze at the sound of her trainer's command. A mischievous smile came to the ghost-type's face as its flame burned large and bright. Then part of the flame burst up and sailed toward the left Spinarak. After her attack, Flicker spared a moment to give her trainer a sunny smile. The gesture was met with an irked eyebrow raise. Myra straightened up and gave the other young trainer a brief nod. Any further explanation may have to wait a minute.</s>
<\|description\|>Marabella Swan Nickname: Mara or Bella Age: Looks about 18 or 19 Species: Vampire Looks: Personality: Marabella is one that's quite loyal to those she considers family and friends and would do just about anything for them. If it came down to it, she'd give the shirt right off her back. She can be sarcastic at times and rude to those that rub her the wrong way. She can become very passionate about things she puts her mind to. Once she starts something, she finishes it, she hates to leave things unfinished. Other: She has a strong love for singing, music, and being outdoors. Something that has stayed with her from when she was human.</s> <\|message\|>Skarlett Mikaelson Skarlett stood on her front porch as she let out a sigh, the temperature so low her breath could be seen. She was waiting for her twin, Kol, her blood-related twin, not Carson the adoptive one,to come pick her up. Skarlett and the rest of her Mikaelson siblings were driving up to New York Cit. Since she was a Mikaelson, she has big shoes to fill, I mean after all, she is an Original. Originals are the first vampires ever created, turned only by magic, and not by the new vampire method. Earlier that morning, Skarlett had written up a note and explained to her guardian where she was going the the time in which she believed she would be home by.She was also kind of nervous and hesitant of going because for all Skarlett knew, she could be getting kidnapped by her sibling. Skarlett looked around, and brushed a lock of her medium brown hair behind her ear and looked around. Since she saw no black SUV, she pulled out her phone and took a seat on the porch swing</s> <\|message\|>Marabella Swan Marabella Swan Marabella sat behind the wheel of her black cherry 1968 Chevrolet Chevelle, tapping her fingers to the beat of the song on the radio on the steering wheel. It was hard to not tap along with a song from Journey, not to mention it was the only thing occupying her on her long drive to the town of Mystic Falls, and there wasn't much to look at on the way there. It had been well over two hundred years since she had stepped foot into Mystic Falls, and she had planned to never return after what had happened the last time she was there, but something was drawing her back. What that something was, she wasn't quite sure of yet but she planned to find out, deal with it, and get back out as quickly as she could. She had mostly bad memories about Mystic Fall and hardly any good ones. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of them, which made her quickly shake them from her mind. It wasn't long until the Mystic Falls sign came into view, she sighed heavily and gripped her steering wheel a bit. As she passed the sign, a shiver ran down her spine. She disliked being in a town with so many Werewolves and Witches, she'd had nothing but bad run-ins with them over the years and she despised both. Plus, now that she was here, she would have to find herself a place to stay. Her mind instantly went to the Salvatore brothers and she wondered if they were still around after all these years, and if they might let her stay at the boarding house while she was there but she didn't just want to invite herself to stay. Though she might stop by just to see how they've managed over the years, it had been so long since she had seen either one of them. She sighed once again as the town came into full view and she drove through it. It had definitely changed some, but the people were as lively as ever. Marabella drove through town watching the people go here and there, wondering if those she was looking at were just normal humans or something else entirely. Shaking the thoughts from her mind, she looked ahead once again and saw the Grill. She decided she'd stop for a while after her long drive and get an idea of what the people were like here nowadays. Finding a parking spot, she parked her car and made her way inside. She found a table near the back so that she could have a good view of the whole place and all the people that came and went. After she sat down, a waitress came by to take her order. Marabella's order was very simple, a hot drink and a little something to nibble on. Once the waitress left, she sat back in her chair and watched the people. As she watched, a thought lingered in the back of her mind. If she sat here long enough, at some point she'd probably run into one of the Salvatores before making it to the Boarding House.</s> <\|message\|>Skarlett Mikaelson " Where are they"Skarlett murmured under her breath. She opened 'Messages' on her phone and scrolled down, calling every single Mikaelson, and when none of them answered she let out a string of curses. She regained compusre and checked the ' Find My IPhone, just to see that all of them were in NYC, she was sure she was gonna put a stake through Elijah and Klaus, they'll be fine afterwards anyway. She scrolled back up and called Damon Salvatore, her boyfriend. " If he doesn't answer, I am literally gonna walk to the New York ." Skarlett muttered something one last time before putting the phone to her ear. After a few seconds of ringing, Damon picked. " Come pick me up." Skarlett said quickly and then she hung up, a smile on her face, the first one of today. She stood up, putting her leather backpack on, which now slung over her left shoulder. Skarlett looked around and went back inside her house, trying not to freeze her toes off, she kind of needs them. She had sat down on the bench in the elaborate mudroom before the door swung open. Skarlett popped up , backed away from the door. She smiled to the person in the doorway, " Hi." Skarlett said simply to him as shephone her phone away, walking up to Damon, a smirk on his face. " Good morning to you little miss I'm-on-a-mission." Damon answered back, pulling my backpack off my shoulders to him. " Good morning, but I am on a mission, I am gonna kill Elijah and Klaus."</s> <\|message\|>Marabella Swan Marabella Swan As Marabella waited on her order, she continued to watch the people that came and went. Not too much seemed to be different about the people that lived here now than back when she was here last. Yes, the younger generation was different, which was to be expected with the changing of the times and whatnot. Propping her elbow on the table, she rested her chin in the palm of her hand with a sigh. The people of this town were still dull, and only a handful knew what lurked around corners and in dark allies. Another sigh escaped her, this one heavier than the last before the waitress returned with her order. "Here you are. I'm sorry for the wait. We're a bit busier today than we normally are." the waitress said in a warm and apologetic tone as she set everything on the table. Marabella smiled back just as warmly and shook her head softly after lifting it from her hand. "Thank you, and it's alright. You seem to be a bit short-staffed." she spoke as warmly as her smile. A smile found its way to the waitress's lips as Marabella spoke warmly to her. "Yes, Ma'am. We are quite short-staffed today. We weren't expecting to have such a busy morning." the waitress said with a small laugh. "Anyway, I better get back to work before my boss yells at me." With a little laugh in her throat, the waitress turned and left Marabella's table. Marabella watched the young woman for a moment before picking up her cup and bringing it to her lips and taking a sip, then let out a soft sigh as she brought it from her lips and back to the table. She then nibbled on the food she had ordered as she went back to quietly watching the people coming and going from the Grill, making sure to not make it too obvious. She would occasionally listen in on some of the conversations going on around her, just to see if she could pick up on anything interesting or find what had led her here.</s> <\|message\|>Skarlett Mikaelson She started to rush past Damon grabbed her, holding her against her will. " Damon, let me go, " I groaned as I struggled to break free. " You are not going to kill your brothers." Damon answered and his arms grew tighter against me. Skarlett let out a huff of defeat and sighed. Damon unwrapped his arms and gently kissed her head. ( Sorry this was short, I don't have a lot of time)</s>	<\|message\|>Marabella Swan Marabella continued to sit at a table in the Mystic Grill, watching and listening to the people that came and went. After finishing what she had ordered, she began to grow bored of the people and atmosphere. Calling over the waitress and getting the check, she paid her and even gave her a decent tip. Standing from the table Bella made her way through the building, out the door, and outside, taking a deep breath once she was back outside. Moving away from the door, she looked around the town as she decided what she should do. Should she wander around town to see what was new? Should she find the Salvatores, or should she just linger around the Grill and see who or what crossed her path? Sighing heavily, she settled on roaming around town and getting a feel for the town and its residents. Picking a random direction, she began to walk, taking in everything the town had to offer. It was almost surprising how some things had changed while other things hadn't changed one bit after all the time that had passed since she was last in Mystic Falls. It actually made her laugh a bit to herself and even shake her head. It was as if time had slightly stood still in certain parts of the town. She could still vividly remember what each building used to be, which some were still the same today. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her black jacket, she continued on her way with a light hum and a small smirk resting on her lips.</s>
<\|description\|>Frederick Steros Nickname: Fred/Freddie. Age: appears to be in his early 20s. Species: Siphoner/Vampire/Heretic Looks: Personality: A nine hundred year old vampire, Fredrick has had plenty of time to learn to control his hunger and magic. A very cunning individual who doesn't value human life. With a distrust for witches, and his sire Kol Mikaelson. Despite his long life, Fredrick has never really known what it's like to have a family. Shunned from his coven when he was a witch for being a siphoner, and having his sire bond abused by Kol Mikaelson. He isn't a trusting person. Having been hunted by supernatural hunters for most of his life.</s> <\|message\|>Skarlett Mikaelson " Where are they"Skarlett murmured under her breath. She opened 'Messages' on her phone and scrolled down, calling every single Mikaelson, and when none of them answered she let out a string of curses. She regained compusre and checked the ' Find My IPhone, just to see that all of them were in NYC, she was sure she was gonna put a stake through Elijah and Klaus, they'll be fine afterwards anyway. She scrolled back up and called Damon Salvatore, her boyfriend. " If he doesn't answer, I am literally gonna walk to the New York ." Skarlett muttered something one last time before putting the phone to her ear. After a few seconds of ringing, Damon picked. " Come pick me up." Skarlett said quickly and then she hung up, a smile on her face, the first one of today. She stood up, putting her leather backpack on, which now slung over her left shoulder. Skarlett looked around and went back inside her house, trying not to freeze her toes off, she kind of needs them. She had sat down on the bench in the elaborate mudroom before the door swung open. Skarlett popped up , backed away from the door. She smiled to the person in the doorway, " Hi." Skarlett said simply to him as shephone her phone away, walking up to Damon, a smirk on his face. " Good morning to you little miss I'm-on-a-mission." Damon answered back, pulling my backpack off my shoulders to him. " Good morning, but I am on a mission, I am gonna kill Elijah and Klaus."</s> <\|message\|>Marabella Swan Marabella Swan As Marabella waited on her order, she continued to watch the people that came and went. Not too much seemed to be different about the people that lived here now than back when she was here last. Yes, the younger generation was different, which was to be expected with the changing of the times and whatnot. Propping her elbow on the table, she rested her chin in the palm of her hand with a sigh. The people of this town were still dull, and only a handful knew what lurked around corners and in dark allies. Another sigh escaped her, this one heavier than the last before the waitress returned with her order. "Here you are. I'm sorry for the wait. We're a bit busier today than we normally are." the waitress said in a warm and apologetic tone as she set everything on the table. Marabella smiled back just as warmly and shook her head softly after lifting it from her hand. "Thank you, and it's alright. You seem to be a bit short-staffed." she spoke as warmly as her smile. A smile found its way to the waitress's lips as Marabella spoke warmly to her. "Yes, Ma'am. We are quite short-staffed today. We weren't expecting to have such a busy morning." the waitress said with a small laugh. "Anyway, I better get back to work before my boss yells at me." With a little laugh in her throat, the waitress turned and left Marabella's table. Marabella watched the young woman for a moment before picking up her cup and bringing it to her lips and taking a sip, then let out a soft sigh as she brought it from her lips and back to the table. She then nibbled on the food she had ordered as she went back to quietly watching the people coming and going from the Grill, making sure to not make it too obvious. She would occasionally listen in on some of the conversations going on around her, just to see if she could pick up on anything interesting or find what had led her here.</s> <\|message\|>Skarlett Mikaelson She started to rush past Damon grabbed her, holding her against her will. " Damon, let me go, " I groaned as I struggled to break free. " You are not going to kill your brothers." Damon answered and his arms grew tighter against me. Skarlett let out a huff of defeat and sighed. Damon unwrapped his arms and gently kissed her head. ( Sorry this was short, I don't have a lot of time)</s> <\|message\|>Marabella Swan Marabella Swan Marabella continued to sit at a table in the Mystic Grill, watching and listening to the people that came and went. After finishing what she had ordered, she began to grow bored of the people and atmosphere. Calling over the waitress and getting the check, she paid her and even gave her a decent tip. Standing from the table Bella made her way through the building, out the door, and outside, taking a deep breath once she was back outside. Moving away from the door, she looked around the town as she decided what she should do. Should she wander around town to see what was new? Should she find the Salvatores, or should she just linger around the Grill and see who or what crossed her path? Sighing heavily, she settled on roaming around town and getting a feel for the town and its residents. Picking a random direction, she began to walk, taking in everything the town had to offer. It was almost surprising how some things had changed while other things hadn't changed one bit after all the time that had passed since she was last in Mystic Falls. It actually made her laugh a bit to herself and even shake her head. It was as if time had slightly stood still in certain parts of the town. She could still vividly remember what each building used to be, which some were still the same today. Shoving her hands into the pockets of her black jacket, she continued on her way with a light hum and a small smirk resting on her lips.</s> <\|message\|>Frederick Steros Frederick Steros rode into town in a black 1977 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am. The vampire siphon was a stickler for old muscle cars. The deep rumble reminded him of hoof beats. As much as he enjoyed his 2-door convertible, he couldn't help but miss the good old days when people used to ride horses. Though he was well aware a horse couldn't go zero to sixty in nine point two seconds. Not without a little magical interference. Fredrick drove down the main strip. Windows down, and fingers drumming the outside of his door. This sleepy town never ceased to surprise Fred. There always seemed to be some magical catastrophe on the horizon. Hell, he noticed the Originals made the trip from New Orleans to Mystic Falls a lot more than he would expect of some backwater town. It was one of the reasons he had come. He wanted to see what all the fuss was about.</s> <\|message\|>Johnathan Mercer -John Mercer- A soft, gentle breeze whispered through the treetops as John slowly trotted up the main path snaking through the surrounding wilderness until he came upon the old cemetery, just mere miles from his family's ranch. Sliding off the saddle of his trusty steed Blackjack, he reached into the saddlebag and pulled out a bouquet of sunflowers, checking them first to make sure they weren't crushed or broken in any way. Then, he made his way up the small, sloping hill to the old wrought iron fence surrounding the scattering of old tombstones and wooden crosses, some dated as far back as 1860, when his great grandpa's family first settled in Mystic Falls. The tall, green grass was as high as his boots as he stepped through the wooden archway and knelt before a grave. He took off his hat, brushing the few stray tears from his eyes, then sighed with a saddened smile upon his rugged face, "Hey mama." He set the bouquet on his mother's grave, swallowing to push down the waves of pain that were crashing against him. "Well...here we are fourteen years later. I still miss you like it was yesterday. I just thought I'd drop by and say hello. Bring you some flowers." After about an hour or so of talking to his mother's grave, he soon stood up and stretched, setting his hat back on his head. "Well, I better get going before dad gets worried. He'll probably think I ran off drinking again." John laughed. "Goodbye, mama. I love you." He placed a small kiss on the inside of his hand and set it on the top of the gravestone before making his way down the hill, climbing up in his saddle and grabbing the reins tightly in his calloused hand, using the other to pet his horse's shimmering black mane. "Alright Blackjack, let's go to work." Later on, after a hard day's work wrangling cattle, John decided to mosey into town for a bite to eat. As customary, both windows of his blue 2011 Ford F150 were rolled down as he sang along to some Cody Jinks belting out of the speakers. He soon pulled his truck into the parking lot of the Mystic Grill and killed the ignition, stepping out and adjusting his Stetson atop his head before slamming his pickup door lightly and strolling up the sidewalk to the front door. As he was about to enter the establishment, he noticed a particularly attractive young woman heading his way. He smiled and opened the door for her. "Allow me, darlin'." He said, his voice thick with a country drawl. @Wolvena The woman seemed to pay him no mind as she briskly walked past the young cowboy, but John just assumed she had something important to get to and wasn't trying to be rude. Still, he had to admit the blonde was good-looking. Maybe he would bump into her later. It was a small town, after all, Mystic Falls. Approaching the counter, John tipped his hat to the waitress and gave a friendly smile as he sat down, putting both elbows on the countertop. "Your usual, Johnny?" Said the young waitress. John nodded back, "Yes ma'am, and don't skimp on the gravy." He chuckled. While he waited, his eyes trailed about the sleepy little diner. Sitting next to him was a police officer, casually sipping his coffee as he read the local paper, a half-eaten club sandwich resting on his plate. In one of the booths nearby, a few old men laughed and smoked cigars, talking about the good old days, while in another booth, a young couple was getting a little too intimate with each other despite being in the public eye. John just shook his head and paid them no further attention. Kids, he wondered. "Here you go, Cowboy." Cooed the waitress with a smirk as she set a plate before him, a golden brown chicken fried steak smothered in gravy with mashed potatoes and green beans on the side. John's mouth was already watering, his stomach growling excitedly with anticipation. "Thank you, ma'am. Looks wonderful. Smells good too." He joyfully responded before digging into his first bite. You just couldn't beat good home cooking like this he thought as he savored the delicious aroma and the tenderness of the meat. After John finished his meal, the cop beside him slowly stood up and began reaching for his wallet. "Oh don't worry about that, mister. I'll pay for you." Said John quickly. The police officer gave him a funny look but replied, "Well thank you, sir." "No sir, thank you." Said John tipping his hat. "You boys do a lot for this town. The man smiled and gave a curt nod to John before walking away. John soon got up himself, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket and setting a few twenties on the bar. "Just keep the change, darlin'." He chimed to the waitress in the back before turning around and stepping outside. The sun felt warm on his face, despite the cool breeze that was wafting through the streets, culminating with the sound of birds chirping and cars quietly passing by, the idle chatter of people walking up and down the sidewalks. It was all oddly peaceful to the young cowboy. It made John wonder why his brother Tommy hated this place, why he was so fired up about leaving Mystic Falls for the big city. Last he had heard, Tommy was a big-time lawyer up in New York. He didn't have time to visit John or their dad either, not that he would have cared to make any John pondered a tad bitter. Still, he wasn't going to let any negative thoughts of his brother ruin his day. Climbing back in his pickup, he started the ignition, the engine rumbling to life amidst another country tune playing through John's stereo. This time, it was the Turnpike Troubadours' Good Lord, Lorie. John smiled to himself and hummed along as he put his truck in gear and backed out onto the street. Since it was such a lovely day, he figured he'd just drive around a bit before he had to get back to work.</s>	<\|message\|>Frederick Steros Frederick Steros was enjoying his drive through the sleepy town of Mystic Falls. Until some country bumpkin pulled out right in front of him, in a blue 2011 Ford F-150. Forcing Frederick to slam on the brakes. He swore to himself quietly. His fingers going from casually drumming the side of his antique muscle car, to flip off the careless country driver. He waited for the cowboy to drive on, before muttering to himself. "Motus." With a subtle swish of his fingers, as he lowered his hand to continue drumming his fingers on the side of his car, he burst the rear left tire of the blue Ford. He took great care not to draw undue attention to himself. Simply, carefully overtaking the blue truck and carrying on his way. He had business that needed to be handled with the Salvatores.</s>
<\|description\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Age: 37</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Sam hadn't meant to injure Eddie, but he couldn't say he was particularly upset to have hurt a werewolf. This was however, not a good thing for their survival as right now he was in the entirely insane predicament of needing this beast's help. At least for now, they were both still alive. Given what Eddie had told him, he couldn't say the same for the rest of his team and who knows who else in the hotel was a casualty of this mess. He hadn't failed a mission this bad since he was just a recruit. He waited and watched as the other patched himself up, but not letting his guard down and ready to shoot again if someone walked up on them. When Eddie started talking about a plan, he listened and couldn't help but wonder why he was being so vague. And then Eddie asked Sam if he trusted him. Trust a werewolf? The very idea was ludicrous and yet, Sam didn't have a whole lot of options then. His training told him he should just put a bullet in the werewolf's head right now and find a way to get himself out. But now, even knowing for sure about the other's true nature, there was some nagging thought in the back of Sam's mind that still saw the humanity in Eddie that he'd witnessed all night and for the last few days observing him. Surely that was worth something? Hell, Sam had shot him and Eddie still hadn't turned on him or lost himself in some kind of beastly rage like Sam would typically expect from a werewolf. "Trust might be stretching it, but I like our chances better together." He said, deciding he was ready to go along with Eddie.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie stared at the man, trying to get a read on the stranger. He couldn't tell if the other person was lying and would just shoot him when he turned his back, but he had few options in the matter. Now that they know he's here, he needed help escaping. "That's something," Eddie muttered, "well since we'll be working together, can I at least know your name? You apparently already know mine." While waiting for the other person to answer, Eddie dragged the dead body into the room, checking the coast before closing the door. His gaze felt heavy as he got a good look at the dead person. He looked to be young, mid-twenties maybe. Still with so much life to live, and now he's dead. Clenching his hand into a fist, he closed the eye of the person then said, "I'm so sorry you had to die. Safe travels." Before standing up, he searched the body and found a gun hidden in the jacket. He gave it a sniff and recoiled from the scent, "Silver alloy," Eddie mumbled. It was an alloy created by werewolves to kill both, humans and other wolves. A deadly invention he wished didn't exist. "Here maybe you can take the ammo. It's 9 millimeters," Eddie said, then toss the gun over to the stranger. He then stood up and walked over to the door. He listened for any noise before opening it. "Coast is clear. After you," Eddie said with a glare.</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco "Sam." Sam answered plainly, when Eddie asked for his name. He supposed it was only fair at this point, especially if they were going to be working together to survive and escape. Though, once they made it out of there he was unsure of what would happen. But now was not the time to be thinking about that, there was still a chance they wouldn't make it out at all. Raising a brow, he watched as Eddie brought the body into the room and wished it's spirit safe travels. Perhaps this was some werewolf thing that Sam was unaware of but he couldn't imagine having any sympathy for that wolf losing it's life. Hunters like him didn't shed tears or say prayers for the beasts they put down. Those emotions were saved for fellow humans. Yet another thing that made it harder and harder to continue seeing Eddie as some kind of monster. "I wouldn't be too sorry, if he'd had it his way you'd be the one in his position." he said. Truthfully, if any of this had gone to plan, Sam would've had it that way too so perhaps he wasn't one to be judging. "I guess though, I can appreciate your respect for the dead." At least the other knew how to still look at this practically, another weapon in their hands was a good thing. "Resourceful." he acknowledged, catching the gun. This would help a lot, as Sam had left most of his gear- spare ammo included- with his team. In hindsight, that wasn't the best call. But truly, this whole mission had been fucked. He took the ammo and tossed the gun aside before turning to Eddie. His eyes narrowed as the other man suggested that he go first, a little suspicious that this could be some sort of set up. But both of them had plenty of reason to not trust the other. Sitting and squabbling over petty things would only result in both of their deaths and well, he supposed he had already given Eddie enough warning of what to expect should he try anything. Giving the other man a nod, he walked past him into the hall. They didn't know what may lie in wait for them on the floors below. The elevator would be the quickest and easiest way to reach the third floor, if it was still working. Sam walked down the hall with a fairly quick pace, gun in his hands and ready for whatever may come their way. He also remained aware of Eddie following behind him, still ready in case this did go bad. Upon reaching the elevator he pressed the button, but then moved back as he waited for it to come to their floor. After all, they didn't know who might be on that elevator. When the doors opened, it was lucky for them that the inside was empty. Well, almost. The walls, floor and ceiling of the elevator car were all painted a gruesome shade of red, covered in blood. Two bodies lay on the floor, which Sam barely recognized as two of his teammates. Death was not all that uncommon in their line of work, but Sam would be lying if he said he wasn't a little shaken up by it. As the leader of their team, he couldn't help but feel responsible for the way things turned out. Walking into the elevator, he sighed a shakey breath. "You fought well, I'm sorry I failed you.." He said said softly before returning his attention to Eddie. "Well, it's not ideal... But this is our ride down." Once the other got on the elevator, he pushed the button for the third floor. However, this would not be their first stop as just after passing several floors, they stopped on the fifth floor.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō "Don't you dare speak ill of the dead," Eddie growled when Sam made his comment about the dead, "and I doubt that. He was barely a puppy out of the den. I doubt he stood a chance if we fought. even a fragile human like you could beat him." Eddie was a little surprised when Sam agreed to go first. He would have thought that Sam would've put up some sort of fight, not that he was complaining. After Sam left the room, Eddie closed the door and followed the man to the elevator. It was the quickest way down, but it would not have been his first choice. They would be forced to fight if they encounter another rogue entering the elevator. Though he didn't complain. It was an option, and they had very few at the moment. Eddie's eyes widen when the door to the elevator opened. Blood and chunks of flesh covered the inside of the tiny space. Two dead bodies ripped to shreds sat on the floor. He nearly recoiled from the stench of blood but stopped himself. What came as a shock was that these were Sam's squad. Organized and well quieted. Who did Sam work for, and what reason did they have for hunting werewolves? "I'm sorry for your loss," Eddie said quietly before stepping onto the elevator. The ride down was tense and gruesome. His enhanced sense did not help with the smell and the danger of encountering another rogue, made for a less than enjoyable ride. Eventually, the door of the elevator opened, but it wasn't the third floor as intended, but the fifth and on the other side of the door were three men, three werewolves. Eddie did not hesitate to punch the unsuspecting person in the face. He could feel bones cracking as the person fell to the ground. Knocked out from the blow "I got the one to the left," Eddie yelled as he tackled the person to left. He shoved them back but was unable to knock them down. "Fucking bastard," the man yelled as he drew his gun. Eddie grabbed the man's wrist raising to the ceiling as several gunshots were fired. With a crushing grip, Eddie forced the gun to drop before pulling the man forward. He grabbed the person's head, quickly slammed it into his knees, causing the man to drop with a heavy thud. Eddie made sure to not cause any fatal injuries, something he doubt Sam would appreciate.</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Sam had to admit, he had doubts about Eddie's reflexes before when the other hadn't quite managed to dodge his bullets but those doubts were quickly cast aside when the elevator doors opened. Any thoughts he had that the other might be working with the group of werewolves was also now looking less likely. Frankly, a little caught off guard from the sudden stop and still a bit distracted by being surrounded by the gory remains of his squad mates, he suddenly found himself in an altercation as he was grabbed by the werewolf to the right and pulled from the elevator. However, it did not take him long at all to then react to the situation. In a fight with a werewolf, there was little to no room for hesitation. Shoving the other man off of him, Sam gave him a hard kick in the knee resulting in a loud "crack" as the man's bones were forced to bend in ways they shouldn't, breaking. As the man collapsed to the ground, Sam drew his gun and aimed it at his head. Unlike his wolven, temporary team mate, Sam had no intentions of resolving any of this less than lethally. Fuck the job at this point, this was revenge. "For Mikey and Rachel." He said as he pulled the trigger. Given Eddie's reaction to the last werewolf he'd killed, he was sure the other wouldn't be so happy. But at the moment he wasn't thinking about Eddie's feelings, and as long as the other didn't stand in his way that was all he cared. With the other two attackers on the ground, he looked to Eddie. "For someone who's supposed to be a werewolf you sure are bad at killing." he said. "But no matter, it would be my pleasure to finish the job." Saying this, he then aimed his gun at one of the unconscious men's heads.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie closed and eyes and looked away when Sam took his revenge on his opponent. The sound echoed through his head several times reminding him who he really was working with, a remorseless werewolf hunter. He looked back when the noise left his head only to see Sam lined his gun with the unconscious werewolf's head. He quickly grabbed the barrel of the gun forcing it away from the unconscious person. His grip was so tight that there was an audible crack to the metal casing of the gun. He looked Sam in the eye, his own glowing amber with emotions. "Whatever you may think of us werewolves but we are still people, people with family and loved ones," Eddie's voice was quiet and pleading. He knew flighting the man would be pointless and leave both of them dead, so he can only hope Sam had some sympathy left in him. "So please. Just leave them." Eddie stayed stubborn, gripping the man's gun and threatening to crush it into pieces. He was not going to back down from this, though time was ticking. He had no doubt the other rogues would have heard the gunshots by now. They would be on their way, so he needed to convince Sam quickly. "Killing them won't bring your allies back. It will only cause you to spiral. You were willing to work with me, so I know you have some…humanity left in you."</s>	<\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Sam glared at the other man when he was stopped just before he could pull the trigger. He couldn't understand why Eddie felt such a way about the very people who were trying to kill them, and after seeing what they had done in the elevator. In his training as a hunter of the Red Hoods, it had been drilled into him that the only fate such beasts as these deserved was death and yet here Eddie was suggesting that they deserved to have lives as humans do. Family? Loved ones? It...honestly hadn't ever even occurred to Sam that werewolves had anyone they cared about other than themselves. Even in his rage, this idea gave him some pause. And when Eddie spoke of humanity, Sam frowned. Who was he to speak of humanity? Yet, Sam couldn't deny that the other had a point, it wouldn't bring back his squad. Not only that but they were running out of time. Relaxing his grip on the gun, Sam took his finger off the trigger. "They deserve to die." He said, though with significantly less conviction in his voice and even some doubt, though he wasn't yet ready to admit that to himself. "But...we need to get out of here." He looked around the hall and pointed over to a sign on the all. "Stairs are that way. Not worth trying the elevator again, we're close enough." Every second that passed made their situation more precarious. Beyond the werewolves, he was sure it wouldn't be long before the police showed up if they hadn't already. And while the Hoods may see themselves as serving out their own form of justice, they weren't necessarily a legally sanctioned group. Once the other released his gun, Sam started down the hallway towards the stairs. They passed the 4th floor on their way down but Sam caught a glimpse of the hall and saw 2 more men, who he could only presume were also werewolves searching for them.</s>
<\|description\|>Arashi Kudō Age: 48</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco It had been 2 days since Sam arrived in the city and he was already ready to leave. He was starting to think that the agency really fucked up their intel this time, as not once on any of his missions had he ever seen a werewolf capable of blending in with human society. Sam was a hunter for the Red Hoods, sometimes just called the Hoods, an organization that put together teams of hunters to track down and rid the world of werewolves using information from The Forestry, an intelligence agency. He had worked for them for about 8 years now, and had started in the bottom ranks. Now he was a team leader, code name Red, of a squad of 6. Normally, their hunts were quite different- usually they involved fast chases throughout the woods, lots of fighting and danger. Sometimes they happened in towns, or cities, and it was even more chaotic. But not this time. This time, the Red Hoods wanted this done with precision. The less collateral damage the better, and the more low key the better. Beyond not wanting too cause undue trauma to the surrounding population, they also wanted to avoid causing any panic that werewolves now lived among humans. Though, despite the intel he'd received, Sam was not convinced that was even true. "Can't believe this shit." He grumbled under his breath, as he played with his lighter in his hand. This had to be the worst job they ever took, he had never spent so much time waiting around in his life. But this stake out was crucial to making sure their mission went off without a hitch. Sam was currently waiting in an alley across the street. His squad members were positioned at various other points in pairs of two. "The least Boss could've done is gave us some money for some food. Unfair to put us within smells distance of a bakery and we can't even partake in a little undercover and try some of the goods." Said Grimm, real name Mikey, over the radio. Sam rolled his eyes. "I know you're hungry but you really want dog food?" Sam radioed back, smirking on his end. It was getting to be evening, if it was the same as the previous night the owner- their target- should be getting ready to close up shop for the night any time now. "Any signs of BB?" BB- Big Bad, the code name they used for their target. "Nada. But I will let you know." Grimm replied.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō "Martin, why don't you leave early tonight. I can close up by myself. You can stay clock into if you like," Eddie said, his accent still thick despite living in the US for over 2 decades. "Are you sure boss?" Martin said, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of leaving early. Martin is one of those kids who had a bad raising, got into some trouble, and ended up in juvie. After that, his parents disowned him, and now he was living alone despite being only 18 and not even out of high school. Eddie took pity on the kid and gave him a job despite not needing the help. Mother did always say people like Martin will change the world and he wanted to be part of that. "Yes, I am sure Martin. Kana and Kazue are sleeping over with a friend so I don't need to be home early. Go and don't get into any trouble, you hear?" Martin said. "I won't, and thank you!" Martin quickly gathered his things, and before he left, Eddie gave the kids a twenty for dinner. He didn't even give Martin the time to answer before pushing him out the door. Martin gave a light sigh and a shake of his head before returning to his work, which happened to be a bunch of paperwork to get ready for the holiday season. It was a slow and laborious process coupled with the quietness of the store and the lack of customers made it all so much worse. As the hours passed, Eddie found himself wanting to fall asleep, that was until the bell of the door echoed through the store. He perked up like a dog and looked over to see a mother coming through with several children bouncing after her. "Wow look at all the cookies!" "Mom I want that one!" "Mom look at this one it's a dog!" The store was immediately filled with laugher and excitement as the children ran around the store, looking at all the sugary sweets. A few of them knocked over the decorations as they ran, causing them to get an ear full from their mother. Eddie couldn't help but smile while watching them. It reminded him of when his girls were still small. Emma, the oldest was away in college studying medicinal while the younger ones, Kana and Kazue, a pair of twins, were in their teens years and practically out of the nest. What he would do to have a house full of kids running around again. If only that was possible. The excitement in the store only grew as the kids picked out what they want, and brought them to the counter. "I'm so sorry about them. Giving them more sugar might not be the best idea," The mother said apologetically as she brought over a large decorated cake as well as what the kids picked out. "No worries. Children must be children," Eddie said with a warm smile. He checked out the cake and gave what the kids picked out for free. After bagging up the cake and handing the kids their sweets, he walked them out of the store. "Now kids, what should you say to your mother?" "Thank you mom!" all of them said in unison. "And you have a good night," He said to the mother before opening the door for them. All of the kids funned through and ran back to their car in excitement. Their mother gave him another apologetic look before running after them. Eddie waved them goodbye and was about to close the door when his nose picked up something strange, gunpowder? He looked around the area, his eye narrowing in suspicion. He tentatively closed the door and flipped over the open sign. He quickly cleaned up and left. Something in the pits of his stomach told him it was going to be a rough night.</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco It was when the mother and children entered the store that Sam decided to move to a slightly different position, climbing up a fire escape to get a better vantage point. This way he could better direct his teams when it came time to move in. Shouldn't be too much longer now. "Hm," Sam hummed thoughtfully to himself, watching as the mother left with her children. Maybe the extra caution they were told to take with this mission wasn't completely unwarranted. After all, the other hunts that took place in cities usually led to a lot of carnage. He caught a brief glimpse of the target in the doorway and looked through the scope of his gun to get a closer look. This was definitely their target, but still Sam was having a hard time believing it. The guy looked so…normal. Hell, he looked practically harmless, just an average dude. If this guy turned out to be a normal human, there was going to be hell to pay back at The Forestry. What an absolute disaster that would be. He watched as the man looked around the area, waiting to see if he would be noticed though confident he couldn't be made from his position. He didn't appear to be spotted but he could tell the guy knew something was up. He watched the guy then go back inside and flip the sign over. "BB sighted. Stand by." he confirmed to his team over the radio. Once the man left for the night it was time to go. "Okay- follow with caution, Big Bad is leaving Grandma's House." Now it was time for him to move too. Heading down the fire escape, he followed from a distance, one of his teams would follow from the rooftops covering the rest of them as a sniper. Sam usually just directed his teams, and often they were the ones to go in and make the kills. But this mission was different so it called for different tactics. Sam wanted to get up close this time, to be sure they really had the right guy. This guy didn't look like a monster, and Sam only killed monsters. It was only just evening, so the city was still a little bit busy but there were less people on the streets than before. This was ideal. Sam was hoping to track the werewolf home, but at least if a fight broke out before that there would be minimal collateral damage.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie carefully watched his surroundings as he headed down the busy streets. He felt eyes on his back and a strange tingling down his spine, something was trailing him or several something. Please don't be another feral. He had to deal with one barely a month ago, and his wounds still haven't fully healed. They were becoming more common and dangerous as of late. It would be more trouble than he would like to deal with tonight. "Damnit," Eddie mumbled, realizing he can't go home tonight. It would put his entire family in danger if a feral found where it lived, hell if anything found where he lived. Eddie lets out a long sigh and decided to make a pit stop at a liquor store to pick up a cheap bottle of scotch before heading out again. He checked into a nearby hotel and immediately collapsed onto the bed. He hated this life, of course, the genes skipped a generation, so none of his family knew what he is. He just needed someone, anyone, to share his struggles or, at the very least, not think he's crazy when he told them he's a werewolf. Groaning, Eddie got off his back, grabbed the bottle of scotch, and took a big swig, feeling it burn on the way down. Another downside to being a werewolf, alcohol did nothing other than taste good. Eddie set down the bottle and entered the bathroom for a long hot shower. Maybe that will help his nerves. Nearly 30 minutes later, Eddie left the bathroom in nothing but a towel. He poured himself a glass of scotch before stepping out onto the balcony, groaning as the cold night wind brushed against his bare skin. The season was beginning to turn, meaning his wolf was going to become more active, meaning more trouble was coming his way. Eddie pushed the fact he was facing imminent danger away and focused on the beautiful view in front of him. His room was on the 15th floor of a relatively high-class hotel. It was more expensive he liked, but hell, he is going to need it if there was going to be a fight tonight. Eddie began sipping on the alcohol while enjoying the view as he waited for whatever that was trailing him to come. Hopefully, they were quicker than not. He just wanted to get this over with. As much as he loved his daughters, he needed at least a day alone.</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco "Fuck." Sam swore under his breath as they headed into a busier part of town. The situation was getting a little riskier and Sam was almost tempted to delay their confrontation for another day, letting tonight just be a night of more recon. But he knew that wouldn't actually do them any good, they would continue to run into this same situation every day. If the Hoods hadn't insisted on taking a more cautious approach, they would've already gone in and eliminated the target by now. There would've been casualties, sure. But casualties were unavoidable it seemed. Continuing to follow, he watched as their target went into a hotel and he sighed. "Take point at the exits, I'm going in alone." he commanded over the radio. "You sure about that, Red?" one of his squad radioed back. "Yes, because I trust you guys to have my back." Sam said, and he meant it too. His team was dependable, and they had been through some pretty hairy situations together. "Grimm, I'm going to need you to watch my gear. Going to have to strip down for this." He wouldn't go in completely unarmed of course. But while his bulkiness might not catch much attention on the street, maybe just a weird look or two, it would make him stand out like a sore thumb in a luxury hotel. After dropping off his gear with Mikey, Sam headed into the hotel and over to the front desk. He had to now figure out where the target was and how to get to him, already concocting a story to get him in. "Hi, I'm here to see Eddie Kudo…" He held up his phone to show a picture. "We, uh, matched on Howlr and he invited me up to his room." The woman at the front desk's eyes went wide and her cheeks turned a bright pink. Flustered, she took a quick look at her computer. "Uhh, he's in room 1512…" She said, "But I should call him first to confirm." However, by the time she had gotten to the latter half of her sentence, Sam had already turned and headed straight for the elevator. He wasn't concerned about the lock. One of the few benefits to this nontraditional mission was that the Red Hoods had gone out of their way to supply them with extra tech for things like this, they were going to great lengths to assure no alarm was raised. Once he reached the 15th floor, he walked down the hall to the room. Luckily for him, there was no one else in the hallway. It took him a moment with the door, but he got it open and walked inside, surprisingly still in the form of a man. He raised his hands, to show he meant no harm. At least, not yet. He still didn't entirely believe that this man was a werewolf. "Do you know why I am here?"</s>	<\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie was growing impatient at the lack of action. He expected the feral to find him by now and attack or at the very least confront him. It usually worked this way. He makes himself visible to the feral, and sooner or later, it would come running trying to kill him. Wolves don't like it when other wolves enter their territory, so a beast running on pure instinct would be fuming at the fact he was here. And the reason he chose a place like this was to make sure the feral stayed human, giving him the upper hand. Eddie was so tense with anticipation that the ringing of the phone caused him to take a fighting stance. "Chikushou," Eddie mumbled as he walked over to the ringing phone. He picked up and said hello to be surprised by the reception lady. She told him about the Howlr situation, causing a deep blush to creep onto his face. It had been years since he even touched Howlr, and he certainly did not invite anyone up to his room. As he began to question the receptionist, the door to his room flung open as a scruffy looking man walked inside with his hands in the air. "Okay?" Eddie said, confused as to what was happening, "thank you for informing me ma'am. You have a good night" Eddie hung up the phone and turned to face the stranger that had just broken into his room. He certainly didn't smell like a feral and seemed to be more sane than the average beast. Through there was a strange aura to the man that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Was it the way he stood and conducted himself? His posture and form show that he wasn't your average civilian. There was also the same gun power smell he detected before. It was a scent that couldn't be covered up so easily and was a tall take sign of trouble. "No?" Eddie responded when the man questioned him. Eddie was beginning to feel extremely self-conscious being naked in front of the stranger. He only stayed naked because he expected a fight, and now that there wasn't one, it felt indecent. "Can I help you, sir? If you are here to steal something. I don't have anything. Other than a good bottle scotch," Eddie mused with a small chuckle. He gave the man a genuine smile as he waited for his next move. One would think to be afraid in a situation like this, but Eddie was confident he can take this man down if the need arises. There was also the fact the stranger asked him if he was why he was here.</s>
<\|description\|>Arashi Kudō Age: 48</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco When the man answered him in such a way, Sam lowered his hands slowly, keeping them at his sides. It wasn't exactly confirmation that this man was only a man, but he definitely was considerably more human than any of the beasts Sam was usually tracking down. It was very strange to say the least. And as he took in the situation, or rather as he took in the full sight of the other man standing there nude, it was also very awkward. Eddie was a bit bigger built than Sam, but Sam was accustomed to his targets being larger than him, though he wasn't typically around them in their human forms. At least, not for very long. "My, my, what big… eyes… you have.." he murmured to himself, clearing his throat as he glanced away. "I wish I could say I was here for something as miniscule as stealing…" Sam said, chuckling. Eyeing the scotch, he noticed it had been drunk but the man didn't appear to be even the slightest bit buzzed, he seemed fully alert and aware. "That is a nice bottle you got there though, how are you enjoying it?" Pushing the door shut, he stepped further into the room. "So it seems you and I have a bit of a dilemma now." he said, going over and sitting in one of the chairs by the window. "And neither of us can leave until we figure out a solution." Sam couldn't go back to the Red Hoods empty handed and without explanation, and he had left his team with instructions to kill on sight if they saw the target leave the building unless further instructed not to. "You see, I get paid to kill monsters. Are you a monster, Eddie?"</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie was beyond confused as to why the stranger was now quoting little red riding hood. It was barely above a whisper, and if he wasn't a werewolf he doubt he could have heard it. Because of this, Eddie decided to ignore it. There was still so much he didn't know. This stranger broke into his room with seeming knowledgeable about him. He wasn't just your average crook. "Then why are you here?" Eddie asked, but the question went unanswered. Instead, the stranger asked about his bottle of scotch. "It's okay. Could be a bit stronger," Eddie answers cautiously. Even if he mentioned it, it was still a strange thing to ask. If he thought about it, this entire situation was strange. When the stranger closed the door, Eddie let's put a sigh of relief. He did not need someone walking by to see him in nothing more than a towel. "Dilemma how?" Eddie asked while watching the man move across the room. He sat down by the window, which confused him even more. If this man was here to get something from him, then why would he give up his advantage by the door? It was the only way in or out of this room. Unless you want to jump out of the 10th floor. The next thing that came out of the stranger's mouth sent chills down Eddie's back. [i]Monsters[/1]. That word echoed in Eddie's head several times over as unwanted memories resurfaced. He has been called that more time than he could count and it doesn't get any easier. Could this man know about werewolves? How could he? Unless he was one himself, but Eddie was sure that the stranger was human. "Monsters? As in criminals? I can assure you I haven't vomited anything crimes. At least none that I know of," Eddie answered, not allowing his real reaction to show.</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Sam watched the other man carefully from where he sat. This whole interaction was so much different than even he imagined it to be. This was nothing like a usual werewolf hunt, this was much closer to a game of chess. He'd been hoping to stay as subtle as possible, so that way if his suspicions were right and the other was a human, then minimal information was leaked about the mission and potentially the whole organization. When Eddie answered him, he crooked a brow. So, this guy either didn't know or was playing dumb. Well, if it was true this guy is a werewolf then Sam supposed the Red Hoods were right to exercise caution with this mission. He had never met a werewolf this smart or patient. So far, it was seeming more and more like this guy was nothing to worry about but Sam knew better than to let down his guard when there was still no definitive answer to that. "Hmm, I suppose that's one way of putting it." Sam mused. Werewolves did often, in his experience, act in criminal ways. "But more specifically, werewolves." It was time to stop beating around the bush and get straight to it. His hope was that, if the the guy was a human, then maybe he and all this would just seem crazy. But if it did turn out that he was a werewolf, then well, Sam was ready to take him down. His hands were already resting right over where he was concealing his gun.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie stared wide eyes at the stranger when he said he was looking for werewolves. His suspicions were true. There are people out there that are aware of his kind, and he can only assume they are hunting him. Could the stranger be part of the government? Unlikely as they wouldn't risk fighting a war with people who can be anywhere, be anyone. Maybe a rebellious group of mythical? No, this man was one hundred percent human. So what could it be? Eddie's eyes narrowed at the man as he tried to think of his next words. "Werewolves? Like the movies? You cannot be serious," Eddie said, playing the ignorant human role to see if he can get anything else from the human. He was about to continue when the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He quickly spun around and stared at the door. There was a horrible stench in the air, and his instincts are telling him that there is danger. He knew this feeling well, there were rogues in the building and they are not far away. The same floor maybe, but definitely close. There also seem to be more than one by the intensity of their scent. What are they doing here? Rogues are the reject of werewolf kind usually for committing some crime. This made them undesirable for packs, organized groups of werewolves, and thus are outcasts. Most of them hold a grudge or resentment for being rejected and often hunt any wolves they can find. But why are they here? He usually didn't have problems with rogues since he wasn't part of a pack. Could they be here for the stranger? Eddie turned and looked back at the man before mumbling, "Fuking." He can tell there was murderous intent in the air. This is going to be a long night, "Fine, you win stranger. Yes, I am a werewolf," Eddie said against his better judgment, "Now listen. There are more werewolves in the building and they are not the nice ones. I can only assume they are hunting you. So unless you don't want to die, I suggest we work together."</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco When the other man at first continued to play dumb, Sam was almost convinced that they had the wrong guy. Damn it, what the hell kind of intel are we working with these days?! He thought to himself, sighing audibly. When Eddie spun around suddenly however, Sam raised a brow curiously, waiting and listening as he figured it had just been a noise from the hallway he'd missed at first, perhaps a knock on the door. But there was no noise, that he was aware of so he was unsure of what suddenly had the man alerted. He wasn't kept in the dark for too long though, and the info he was given was a lot to process. So they did have the right target, this guy really was a werewolf. From what Eddie said, Sam could only deduce that Eddie was one of the "nice" werewolves but such an idea seemed ludicrous. "No such thing as a nice werewolf." He said. And yet, he couldn't deny that Eddie wasn't particularly awful. Not once had Sam seen this guy act violently, his reactions were measured and cautious, and he seemed smart and even quite emotionally intelligent. Nothing like any werewolf Sam had encountered in his life. The thought of working together was certainly out of the question. After all, if the werewolf was this smart who's to say this wasn't all some kind of ploy to gain the upper hand now that he'd been caught? "Hold up." He said. Taking his radio from his pocket, he spoke into it, "Alpha team, what's your status?" There was no response. "Alpha team, do you copy?" Again, there was no response. This was not good. "Beta team, your status?" No response from them either, and his gut told him he'd only get the same response from the Omega team. And suddenly it sank in that Eddie could very well be right. His team were plenty capable on their missions, but for this one they'd been expecting only a single werewolf and they had expected to deal with it quietly. They were not prepared to deal with multiple werewolves, and probably had been caught off guard. He could only hope they were still alive, but for now he needed to focus on his own survival. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" This was absolutely a worst case scenario. But there was no time to be angry. Sam gave Eddie a hard look, pulling out his gun as he then said, "These better not be friends of yours furball, or else I will put a silver bullet in every one of your heads." If his team was dead & he made it out of there, he still might. "Now, I don't suppose you have a plan?" Things were about to really go off the rails, so much for being discreet. However, before anything else could be discussed, there was a knock on the door. Then, an even louder bang and after that a loud crash the door came down. "Get down!" Sam shouted, giving Eddie only enough time to do so before before he opened fire.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō "You're not wrong, there are no nice werewolves. There are those who resign to live in their own world and there are those who want to rule the world," Eddie mutter. His hands weren't clean, probably more stained with blood than those who were hunting them, but he refrained from mentioning that. The stranger didn't need another reason to not trust him. Not saying anything else, Eddie walked over to the pile of clothes that were neatly folded on the nightstand. Without hesitation, he dropped his towel and began to get dressed. He didn't care that the stranger saw everything he had to offer now that their lives are at risk. As he got dressed he couldn't help but be concerned at the other man's distress. "I wouldn't get your hopes up. Rogues don't take prisoner," Eddie mumbled as if he knew from personal experience. Though he couldn't believe this man brought 3 separate teams to hunt down one werewolf. This made him rather glad they didn't clash because the last thing he wanted was to kill humans. "Excuse me? Furball?" Eddie swung around glared at the man only to see him holding a gun which he presumed was loaded with silver. Grumbling something incoherent, Eddie turned away and put on the rest of his clothes. When the man asked about a plan, Eddie stopped and thought about it. He didn't have a plan other than surviving the night to see his daughters again. He couldn't live with the thought of leaving them alone. Lost in through, he didn't hear the footsteps getting closer or the knock on the door before it was too late. Several shots were fired. Pain shot through his arm as he dove to the side. "Fucking," Eddie growled as his side hit the ground. He clutched the bullet shot on his upper arm, holding in several more curses. With quick haste, Eddie dug into his arm and pulled out the bullet that burned like fire. He quickly threw it to the side before letting out a sigh of relief. The silver left a stinging sensation inside his wound and on his fingers. He did not miss the feeling of silver. Eddie didn't hover for long before jumping to his feet. He looked over at the door to see a dead body on the ground, bright red blood already pooling on the carpet. "Guess it's too late to talk," Eddie mused as he ripped a portion of the sheets to use as a bandage. He bit down on his teeth as he tried the makeshift bandage around his wound. That silver was prohibiting any of his natural healing which meant he had to endure the pain for a while, a long while. "Okay, you asked about a plan. If we get to the third floor then I have an idea,' Eddie said but not giving any more information on it. If he did, he was 100% sure the man would refuse. Hell, he could probably refuse. "Do you trust me?"</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Sam hadn't meant to injure Eddie, but he couldn't say he was particularly upset to have hurt a werewolf. This was however, not a good thing for their survival as right now he was in the entirely insane predicament of needing this beast's help. At least for now, they were both still alive. Given what Eddie had told him, he couldn't say the same for the rest of his team and who knows who else in the hotel was a casualty of this mess. He hadn't failed a mission this bad since he was just a recruit. He waited and watched as the other patched himself up, but not letting his guard down and ready to shoot again if someone walked up on them. When Eddie started talking about a plan, he listened and couldn't help but wonder why he was being so vague. And then Eddie asked Sam if he trusted him. Trust a werewolf? The very idea was ludicrous and yet, Sam didn't have a whole lot of options then. His training told him he should just put a bullet in the werewolf's head right now and find a way to get himself out. But now, even knowing for sure about the other's true nature, there was some nagging thought in the back of Sam's mind that still saw the humanity in Eddie that he'd witnessed all night and for the last few days observing him. Surely that was worth something? Hell, Sam had shot him and Eddie still hadn't turned on him or lost himself in some kind of beastly rage like Sam would typically expect from a werewolf. "Trust might be stretching it, but I like our chances better together." He said, deciding he was ready to go along with Eddie.</s>	<\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie stared at the man, trying to get a read on the stranger. He couldn't tell if the other person was lying and would just shoot him when he turned his back, but he had few options in the matter. Now that they know he's here, he needed help escaping. "That's something," Eddie muttered, "well since we'll be working together, can I at least know your name? You apparently already know mine." While waiting for the other person to answer, Eddie dragged the dead body into the room, checking the coast before closing the door. His gaze felt heavy as he got a good look at the dead person. He looked to be young, mid-twenties maybe. Still with so much life to live, and now he's dead. Clenching his hand into a fist, he closed the eye of the person then said, "I'm so sorry you had to die. Safe travels." Before standing up, he searched the body and found a gun hidden in the jacket. He gave it a sniff and recoiled from the scent, "Silver alloy," Eddie mumbled. It was an alloy created by werewolves to kill both, humans and other wolves. A deadly invention he wished didn't exist. "Here maybe you can take the ammo. It's 9 millimeters," Eddie said, then toss the gun over to the stranger. He then stood up and walked over to the door. He listened for any noise before opening it. "Coast is clear. After you," Eddie said with a glare.</s>
<\|description\|>Arashi Kudō Age: 48</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie stared at the man, trying to get a read on the stranger. He couldn't tell if the other person was lying and would just shoot him when he turned his back, but he had few options in the matter. Now that they know he's here, he needed help escaping. "That's something," Eddie muttered, "well since we'll be working together, can I at least know your name? You apparently already know mine." While waiting for the other person to answer, Eddie dragged the dead body into the room, checking the coast before closing the door. His gaze felt heavy as he got a good look at the dead person. He looked to be young, mid-twenties maybe. Still with so much life to live, and now he's dead. Clenching his hand into a fist, he closed the eye of the person then said, "I'm so sorry you had to die. Safe travels." Before standing up, he searched the body and found a gun hidden in the jacket. He gave it a sniff and recoiled from the scent, "Silver alloy," Eddie mumbled. It was an alloy created by werewolves to kill both, humans and other wolves. A deadly invention he wished didn't exist. "Here maybe you can take the ammo. It's 9 millimeters," Eddie said, then toss the gun over to the stranger. He then stood up and walked over to the door. He listened for any noise before opening it. "Coast is clear. After you," Eddie said with a glare.</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco "Sam." Sam answered plainly, when Eddie asked for his name. He supposed it was only fair at this point, especially if they were going to be working together to survive and escape. Though, once they made it out of there he was unsure of what would happen. But now was not the time to be thinking about that, there was still a chance they wouldn't make it out at all. Raising a brow, he watched as Eddie brought the body into the room and wished it's spirit safe travels. Perhaps this was some werewolf thing that Sam was unaware of but he couldn't imagine having any sympathy for that wolf losing it's life. Hunters like him didn't shed tears or say prayers for the beasts they put down. Those emotions were saved for fellow humans. Yet another thing that made it harder and harder to continue seeing Eddie as some kind of monster. "I wouldn't be too sorry, if he'd had it his way you'd be the one in his position." he said. Truthfully, if any of this had gone to plan, Sam would've had it that way too so perhaps he wasn't one to be judging. "I guess though, I can appreciate your respect for the dead." At least the other knew how to still look at this practically, another weapon in their hands was a good thing. "Resourceful." he acknowledged, catching the gun. This would help a lot, as Sam had left most of his gear- spare ammo included- with his team. In hindsight, that wasn't the best call. But truly, this whole mission had been fucked. He took the ammo and tossed the gun aside before turning to Eddie. His eyes narrowed as the other man suggested that he go first, a little suspicious that this could be some sort of set up. But both of them had plenty of reason to not trust the other. Sitting and squabbling over petty things would only result in both of their deaths and well, he supposed he had already given Eddie enough warning of what to expect should he try anything. Giving the other man a nod, he walked past him into the hall. They didn't know what may lie in wait for them on the floors below. The elevator would be the quickest and easiest way to reach the third floor, if it was still working. Sam walked down the hall with a fairly quick pace, gun in his hands and ready for whatever may come their way. He also remained aware of Eddie following behind him, still ready in case this did go bad. Upon reaching the elevator he pressed the button, but then moved back as he waited for it to come to their floor. After all, they didn't know who might be on that elevator. When the doors opened, it was lucky for them that the inside was empty. Well, almost. The walls, floor and ceiling of the elevator car were all painted a gruesome shade of red, covered in blood. Two bodies lay on the floor, which Sam barely recognized as two of his teammates. Death was not all that uncommon in their line of work, but Sam would be lying if he said he wasn't a little shaken up by it. As the leader of their team, he couldn't help but feel responsible for the way things turned out. Walking into the elevator, he sighed a shakey breath. "You fought well, I'm sorry I failed you.." He said said softly before returning his attention to Eddie. "Well, it's not ideal... But this is our ride down." Once the other got on the elevator, he pushed the button for the third floor. However, this would not be their first stop as just after passing several floors, they stopped on the fifth floor.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō "Don't you dare speak ill of the dead," Eddie growled when Sam made his comment about the dead, "and I doubt that. He was barely a puppy out of the den. I doubt he stood a chance if we fought. even a fragile human like you could beat him." Eddie was a little surprised when Sam agreed to go first. He would have thought that Sam would've put up some sort of fight, not that he was complaining. After Sam left the room, Eddie closed the door and followed the man to the elevator. It was the quickest way down, but it would not have been his first choice. They would be forced to fight if they encounter another rogue entering the elevator. Though he didn't complain. It was an option, and they had very few at the moment. Eddie's eyes widen when the door to the elevator opened. Blood and chunks of flesh covered the inside of the tiny space. Two dead bodies ripped to shreds sat on the floor. He nearly recoiled from the stench of blood but stopped himself. What came as a shock was that these were Sam's squad. Organized and well quieted. Who did Sam work for, and what reason did they have for hunting werewolves? "I'm sorry for your loss," Eddie said quietly before stepping onto the elevator. The ride down was tense and gruesome. His enhanced sense did not help with the smell and the danger of encountering another rogue, made for a less than enjoyable ride. Eventually, the door of the elevator opened, but it wasn't the third floor as intended, but the fifth and on the other side of the door were three men, three werewolves. Eddie did not hesitate to punch the unsuspecting person in the face. He could feel bones cracking as the person fell to the ground. Knocked out from the blow "I got the one to the left," Eddie yelled as he tackled the person to left. He shoved them back but was unable to knock them down. "Fucking bastard," the man yelled as he drew his gun. Eddie grabbed the man's wrist raising to the ceiling as several gunshots were fired. With a crushing grip, Eddie forced the gun to drop before pulling the man forward. He grabbed the person's head, quickly slammed it into his knees, causing the man to drop with a heavy thud. Eddie made sure to not cause any fatal injuries, something he doubt Sam would appreciate.</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Sam had to admit, he had doubts about Eddie's reflexes before when the other hadn't quite managed to dodge his bullets but those doubts were quickly cast aside when the elevator doors opened. Any thoughts he had that the other might be working with the group of werewolves was also now looking less likely. Frankly, a little caught off guard from the sudden stop and still a bit distracted by being surrounded by the gory remains of his squad mates, he suddenly found himself in an altercation as he was grabbed by the werewolf to the right and pulled from the elevator. However, it did not take him long at all to then react to the situation. In a fight with a werewolf, there was little to no room for hesitation. Shoving the other man off of him, Sam gave him a hard kick in the knee resulting in a loud "crack" as the man's bones were forced to bend in ways they shouldn't, breaking. As the man collapsed to the ground, Sam drew his gun and aimed it at his head. Unlike his wolven, temporary team mate, Sam had no intentions of resolving any of this less than lethally. Fuck the job at this point, this was revenge. "For Mikey and Rachel." He said as he pulled the trigger. Given Eddie's reaction to the last werewolf he'd killed, he was sure the other wouldn't be so happy. But at the moment he wasn't thinking about Eddie's feelings, and as long as the other didn't stand in his way that was all he cared. With the other two attackers on the ground, he looked to Eddie. "For someone who's supposed to be a werewolf you sure are bad at killing." he said. "But no matter, it would be my pleasure to finish the job." Saying this, he then aimed his gun at one of the unconscious men's heads.</s> <\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie closed and eyes and looked away when Sam took his revenge on his opponent. The sound echoed through his head several times reminding him who he really was working with, a remorseless werewolf hunter. He looked back when the noise left his head only to see Sam lined his gun with the unconscious werewolf's head. He quickly grabbed the barrel of the gun forcing it away from the unconscious person. His grip was so tight that there was an audible crack to the metal casing of the gun. He looked Sam in the eye, his own glowing amber with emotions. "Whatever you may think of us werewolves but we are still people, people with family and loved ones," Eddie's voice was quiet and pleading. He knew flighting the man would be pointless and leave both of them dead, so he can only hope Sam had some sympathy left in him. "So please. Just leave them." Eddie stayed stubborn, gripping the man's gun and threatening to crush it into pieces. He was not going to back down from this, though time was ticking. He had no doubt the other rogues would have heard the gunshots by now. They would be on their way, so he needed to convince Sam quickly. "Killing them won't bring your allies back. It will only cause you to spiral. You were willing to work with me, so I know you have some…humanity left in you."</s> <\|message\|>Sam "Red" Corsco Sam glared at the other man when he was stopped just before he could pull the trigger. He couldn't understand why Eddie felt such a way about the very people who were trying to kill them, and after seeing what they had done in the elevator. In his training as a hunter of the Red Hoods, it had been drilled into him that the only fate such beasts as these deserved was death and yet here Eddie was suggesting that they deserved to have lives as humans do. Family? Loved ones? It...honestly hadn't ever even occurred to Sam that werewolves had anyone they cared about other than themselves. Even in his rage, this idea gave him some pause. And when Eddie spoke of humanity, Sam frowned. Who was he to speak of humanity? Yet, Sam couldn't deny that the other had a point, it wouldn't bring back his squad. Not only that but they were running out of time. Relaxing his grip on the gun, Sam took his finger off the trigger. "They deserve to die." He said, though with significantly less conviction in his voice and even some doubt, though he wasn't yet ready to admit that to himself. "But...we need to get out of here." He looked around the hall and pointed over to a sign on the all. "Stairs are that way. Not worth trying the elevator again, we're close enough." Every second that passed made their situation more precarious. Beyond the werewolves, he was sure it wouldn't be long before the police showed up if they hadn't already. And while the Hoods may see themselves as serving out their own form of justice, they weren't necessarily a legally sanctioned group. Once the other released his gun, Sam started down the hallway towards the stairs. They passed the 4th floor on their way down but Sam caught a glimpse of the hall and saw 2 more men, who he could only presume were also werewolves searching for them.</s>	<\|message\|>Arashi Kudō Eddie let out a sigh when Sam backed down. He was glad the man had some reason left in him and whatever organization he worked for hadn't brained washed him completely. That piece of information was still a mystery to him. He hadn't heard about any werewolf hunting organization, but the rogues surely had, and he had living proof next to him. "No one deserves to due Sam," Eddie said, then released the gun. He then agreed when Sam suggested that they needed to leave. He was even more glad when Sam suggested the stairs. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in that elevator with all that blood. As Eddie followed Sam down the stairs, he stopped between the fourth and third. He grabbed Sam's shoulder to stop him before looking around. It was too quiet. They are close to the ground floor and yet he can't hear anyone, no footsteps, no weapons being drawn, no radio being answered. Eddie listened for a moment longer before yelling, "RUN." Immediately the door to the third floor flung open as several armed men flooded the stairs. Eddie grabbed Sam, dragging him up the stairs and into the fourth floor. "They're human," he manage to say as they burst through the door where they were greeted by the two men from before. He paid them no mind and ran down the hall, still dragging Sam along with him. Instead of running to the other set of stairs, he broke down a room door and went inside. Luckily for them, it was empty. Eddie closed the door and stood against it, listening as the group of men ran past them towards the other set of stairs. "Right, this is the point I start to sound crazy. I can survive the jump from this floor even while carrying you. The question is do you trust me because there is no way we are escaping through the front door." He wasn't completely lying when he said that. While he could survive, he would not come out of it unscathed. It would hurt like hell for the next few weeks, but at least they will be alive.</s>
<\|description\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Title: Burning Heart Age: 16 Nationality: Japanese Bio: Suzuya was a girl who just wanted to start a school book club in her hometown of Miso when everything changed for. Staring down at a sheet of signatures, it's lack of any such names due entirely to her failure to ask anyone, she missed the bus that would not have just taken her home, but altered the entire course of her life. She was pulled from her fugue of self recrimination by a plea for help. An eerie, enchanting nose that evoked concern in her, pulling her from the bus stop as though she could make up for her social failings with a single act of compassion for her fellow man. Following the persistent cries lead her to an alley, where rather then a woman in distress she found a hyena like Pageless, braying with laughter amidst the cries of young girls, their voices mimiced by a beastial maw that reared back in an unkind smile. Terror crushed her in a vicegrip as the Pageless proved but one of many, claws raking across brickwork as they crawled down walls from rooftops and rose as though pulled from the shadows for the prospect of prey. Her story would have ended like countless others had there not been a savior pursuing the monsters, one that Suzuya never learned the name of. A hand clenched around her shoulder and hurled her away against the flank of a horse black as the night with a mane made of roaring flame. A Magical Girl clad in the heavy armor of a Samurai barred the way between her and the horde of Pageless, Suzuya glimpsing a face that was serene even as she struck her steed's flank and sent it galloping away with Suzuya curling herself upon it, abject horror and shock leaving her clinging like a lamprey even as it's fierce gallop shook her with every bound. The waning light of day had given way to night when the horse stopped, a mournful noise issuing forth before it flickered away like paper caught alight, dropping it's burden and a Grimoire to the careworn streets of Miso's outskirts. Suzuya took up this book, feeling the Grimoire connect to her, an understanding passing between them that this was the Samurai's, and now it was hers. A fire had been reported in Miso City that night, devouring abandoned tenements with not a soul in sight, but Suzuya knew better. She was still clutching the Grimoire to her chest when the first Magical Girls came to her home days later, telling her of the Grand Ministry and passing along to her parents the news she'd been selected for a foreign exchange student program that would offer her prestigious accolades on her student records. Suzuya packed her bags quietly, her life in freefall and changing faster then she had ever feared or dared to hope, and into the center of her Grimoire she left the folded form of a book club that hadn't been, a book mark in a literal sense. The tome was a weight on her chest, the burden of expectation she had shied away from once already. Her hands cradled the spine even as she ached to set it down, but she wouldn't let herself turn from this responsibility. She would carry this weight, and each day, little by little, the fire it stoked would remain outside her transformation. Or so she hoped. Heiki monogatari - Tale of Tomoe Gozen Classification: Fable Description: The Onna Musha, Warrior Woman, Tomoe Gozen was a devoted wife to her husband Yoshinori. So much so, rather then stay behind to defend their home, she fought beside him on the battlefield. A real life figure mixed with legend, rumors who have made her origin and ending fluid to the reader's preferences. What is held in certainty was that she was an exceptional warrior, master of the bow and the traditional woman's weapon of the Naginata, yet was said to favor the katana traditionally only allowed to samurai. She had the strength and skill matching a thousand men, and led an army just as large into battle alongside her husband. Her stories end comes with that of her husband's, as his successes mixed with incompetent leadership, resulting in his own family turning upon him out of jealousy. Their armies slaughtered till Tomoe Gozen stood amidst a party of six, they were faced with a vast host and her husband ordered she retreat. Whether it was an act of love or a desire not to be shamed dying besides a woman is up to interpretation, but she refuses and charges the armies. A heart that burns with life, that primal spirit that buoys all to greatness. With blade in hand she sang her story into the page's of fable and history, she cleaved the heads of her foes even as her husband lost his own. Monkhood. Revenge. A tapestry of conclusions woven by countless lines of ink on paper. And a head unbowed, always. Abilites: Onna Musha- Though not Samurai themselves, a woman of Japan was expected to defend themselves and their homes. Tomoe Gozen went a step beyond by taking to the field, and bore the burden of carrying added arms upon her person. This takes the form of Suzuya drawing weapons from her tails, the traditional tools of the era settling easy in her hands with skill of the original Tomoe Gozen flowing through her. Strength of Heart- Suzuya is a shy, uncertain girl, but upon transforming she is suffused with a confidence entirely unknown to her. It makes her brave beyond measure, pushing forward to cut down her enemies and stand against the injustices of the world. Honor Through Head Taking- The old belief that the head must be washed and honored for a soul to pass peacefully into the afterlife. By cleaving the heads of Pageless, Suzuya's heart beats faster, till her body is wreathed in the fires of her passion. A temporary but stacking increase in power embodying Tomoe Gozen's fearlessness in open warfare against overwhelming odds. Peerless Horsemaster- UNAVAILABLE. Tomoe Gozen's greatest feats were accomplished on horse back, capable of guiding a steed over the harshest terrain and slay enemies at full gallop without sacrificing any of her dexterity. The grimoire summons a steed worthy of her legend, but Suzuya is unable to mount the horse till it accepts her holding the grimoire.</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance BONNIE CHANCE Bonnie listed to Camelot's words and became more and more downcast. They were warriors who had drawn blades together on the battlefield... but no bonds of sisterhood had they? Wasn't it supposed to be that no-one was your family like those who bled for you? For those who "put the work in", so to speak? Well, of course there wasn't any value to her sword alongside Camelot's, she'd been nothing but trouble, defective, a problem in Camelot's eyes. "Mmm-" At first Bonnie offered little resistance to Camelot's inquisition "-eee!" But whether it was touching at a bruise that hadn't discolored yet, or simply having her shirt surprisingly raised, Bonnie did get some life sparked into her and she squirmed at Camelot's bold advance without waiting for permission. In truth, Bonnie wasn't too badly banged up, Camelot was a skilled swordswoman who had gotten to make her strike without resistance. Lilac who could tangle head on with the Pageless and slam them into the ground from the top of a building wasn't exactly a delicate flower, regardless of name. At Camelot's silence as she pondered things over, correct in conclusion if not in cause, Bonnie began to turn away, taking silence as permission to shrink away from Camelot's gaze. But her flight was halted, stunned in submission at Camelot grabbing her shoulders and forcefully telling her no. Bonnie's head was swimming, and a bunch of particularly loud dolphins were churning the waters. -Oh no, am I why Burning Heart and Camelot were fighting? Wait we're a team? But what was all that before about not being a team? Er... That wasn't a bad point about how a magical girl should act. But can I live up to that? Even Usagi got a chance to cry every now and then... especially Usagi. Oh god why was she listing off all her deficiencies, I know I suck! Really? Heart? That's what everyone says when they know you don't contribute. Someone with heart wouldn't be broken just because someone said they weren't your friend. Camelot knows I'm alone. But it's all pity. She doesn't like me, she just feels guilty that I'm sad. No one really wants to be friends with a sad person, they just want you to stop being sad. But at least she said the words, and even if it falls apart tomorrow...- There were so many things she wanted to say, so many directions her heart wanted to take her, dreams made and dying in the same moment. "Sorry! Sorry, I'm a mess aren't I. Not putting on a good display as a magical girl." Her eyes drifted for a moment to Dynasty Queen and longer to Burning Heart, ashamed of her appearance, no doubt she looked a fool losing her cool over something as silly as this. Then she turned back to Camelot. "I- I should be tougher than this, you're right. I'll try to bring it together for the rest of the patrol, leader. And-uh, of course I'll be your friend. Of course. Bonnie tried to smile. Because of course that's what you say. That's what everyone always says.</s> <\|message\|>Nessie Burns There was clear elation on Nessie's face as the cloaked Pageless' agonised cry rang out through the sky-turned-battlefield, though despite that she couldn't help but feel a chill run up her spine in a primal reaction to the spectral scream. It was other-worldly, wholly irregular and with such hatred and thirst for revenge behind it. The young witch could almost feel its claws resting on her shoulder from behind, ready to spitefully slice through her as soon as she looked at them. It was just a trick of the mind though, of course it was, playing on her paranoia and making the air around her just feel a little colder. Lumiere's words however, laced with an icy disgust of the shrieking monster, returned to the Lady of the Lake that sense of courage she had felt before when taking it on directly. And now that she'd had a closer look at it, its wounded form made it seem far less imposing than it had initially. Its cloak torn and peppered with holes from musket balls and its vulnerable heart pierced with those fine needles of rain, like miniature daggers embedded in flesh. But a wounded creature that knows it has nothing to lose, that knows its time is almost up, has the potential to be far more dangerous than it ever could have been previously. This was something Nessie would quickly realise as the Pageless made a sharp break for the leader of the group, tossing out dazzling lights that forced the young redhead to shut her eyes so tightly that she started seeing colours. "Lucette!" Nessie cried out in concern for her friend, blinking open her eyes until her vision cleared of the obtrusive flashing colours that had resulted from the desperate phantom's assault. But, upon seeing the result of said assault, the girl realised there had really been nothing to worry about. She watched in awe as, calm and composed, the leader of the quartet of Magical Girls spoke a few damning words to the captured Pageless, before bringing the caged creature over to her, Goodhope and Olivia. There, its judgement would be decided, if it hadn't been already. "Well, we can't communicate with it? Can we?" Though she was more than happy to assist in destroying the Pageless, after all it had rudely knocked her off her broom and tried to kill her friends as well, but she couldn't deny to herself that, if possible, it could be useful to speak with it in some way. She peered closely at their frozen foe in its prison, curiously studying it now that it was immobile. That being said, a momentary silence from her comrades was more than enough for the redhead to assume that such reasoning was impossible. "Let's just whack the bastard, give 'im hell." Nessie concluded, as the rain which poured around her now formed into something far larger than a needle, though with the same keen, piercing sharpness to it. As droplets swirled into place, the shape became more defined until the form of transparent, so in this case grey, spear was created. Perhaps influenced by Lumiere's solemn disposition, as well as a desire to just get the whole affair over with, there was no hesitation from the Lady of the Lake as she flung the spear right at the creature's exposed heart in an attempt to finish things there and then. Whether the others would join her in the effort was up to them.</s>	<\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Suzuya had to admit that Tesni could provide weapon's-grade passive agressiveness with impressive speed, turning from hot blooded combatant to the cattiest girl she'd even seen without sporting a spray tan and bleached blonde hair. And if an iota of it was directed at her she might have bristled at it, but being a bystander left her muted to the monkey's words. Camelot was not going to earn any praise from the Japanese Magical Girl for her handling of things, either in words or actions as both managed to hurt Lilac with visible effect. That all of this was public with a senior magical girl like Ozma around only made the shame of it burn her ears a cherry red as she tried to keep calm- Her hand was wrapped around the hilt of something deadly when the floral-named Magical girl yelped. Burning Heart narrowed her gaze and deliberately released the weapon back into her tail, chiding herself for succumbing to the alien desire for violence. What she wouldn't abstain from after seeing Lilac wilt under Camelot's words was stepping between the two girls and turning her back to Camelot so sharply her tails swung like ninetuple bludgeons of fluffy reprisal. And if they had the hardness of iron-banded cudgels to them, clearly Burning Heart was just a tad slow in withdrawing the weapons held in her tails. She was content with blocking Camelot as she enveloped Bonnie in a tight hug. "We needed only to fight shoulder to shoulder one time for me to call you my friend. You are kind and welcoming, like the first rays of the sun breaking the night, and though I am not happy to have left my home, I think it was worthwhile to have met my....first friend." The fox with the stalwart heart found herself faltering for the first time while transformed, ears drooping as embarrasment won out even over the Grimoire of the warrior wife. "So, you don't need to pretend for me. I, umm, did enough of that for all of us before I got my book. So let's get better at this Magical Girl duty together." Burning Heart said with cheeks the color of vibrant flame, her eyes wide and lips uncertain if she should be smiling or not. But what she held with absolute certainty was Lilac in her arms, finding there was no question to be asked on where her arms should be.</s>
<\|description\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Title: Burning Heart Age: 16 Nationality: Japanese Bio: Suzuya was a girl who just wanted to start a school book club in her hometown of Miso when everything changed for. Staring down at a sheet of signatures, it's lack of any such names due entirely to her failure to ask anyone, she missed the bus that would not have just taken her home, but altered the entire course of her life. She was pulled from her fugue of self recrimination by a plea for help. An eerie, enchanting nose that evoked concern in her, pulling her from the bus stop as though she could make up for her social failings with a single act of compassion for her fellow man. Following the persistent cries lead her to an alley, where rather then a woman in distress she found a hyena like Pageless, braying with laughter amidst the cries of young girls, their voices mimiced by a beastial maw that reared back in an unkind smile. Terror crushed her in a vicegrip as the Pageless proved but one of many, claws raking across brickwork as they crawled down walls from rooftops and rose as though pulled from the shadows for the prospect of prey. Her story would have ended like countless others had there not been a savior pursuing the monsters, one that Suzuya never learned the name of. A hand clenched around her shoulder and hurled her away against the flank of a horse black as the night with a mane made of roaring flame. A Magical Girl clad in the heavy armor of a Samurai barred the way between her and the horde of Pageless, Suzuya glimpsing a face that was serene even as she struck her steed's flank and sent it galloping away with Suzuya curling herself upon it, abject horror and shock leaving her clinging like a lamprey even as it's fierce gallop shook her with every bound. The waning light of day had given way to night when the horse stopped, a mournful noise issuing forth before it flickered away like paper caught alight, dropping it's burden and a Grimoire to the careworn streets of Miso's outskirts. Suzuya took up this book, feeling the Grimoire connect to her, an understanding passing between them that this was the Samurai's, and now it was hers. A fire had been reported in Miso City that night, devouring abandoned tenements with not a soul in sight, but Suzuya knew better. She was still clutching the Grimoire to her chest when the first Magical Girls came to her home days later, telling her of the Grand Ministry and passing along to her parents the news she'd been selected for a foreign exchange student program that would offer her prestigious accolades on her student records. Suzuya packed her bags quietly, her life in freefall and changing faster then she had ever feared or dared to hope, and into the center of her Grimoire she left the folded form of a book club that hadn't been, a book mark in a literal sense. The tome was a weight on her chest, the burden of expectation she had shied away from once already. Her hands cradled the spine even as she ached to set it down, but she wouldn't let herself turn from this responsibility. She would carry this weight, and each day, little by little, the fire it stoked would remain outside her transformation. Or so she hoped. Heiki monogatari - Tale of Tomoe Gozen Classification: Fable Description: The Onna Musha, Warrior Woman, Tomoe Gozen was a devoted wife to her husband Yoshinori. So much so, rather then stay behind to defend their home, she fought beside him on the battlefield. A real life figure mixed with legend, rumors who have made her origin and ending fluid to the reader's preferences. What is held in certainty was that she was an exceptional warrior, master of the bow and the traditional woman's weapon of the Naginata, yet was said to favor the katana traditionally only allowed to samurai. She had the strength and skill matching a thousand men, and led an army just as large into battle alongside her husband. Her stories end comes with that of her husband's, as his successes mixed with incompetent leadership, resulting in his own family turning upon him out of jealousy. Their armies slaughtered till Tomoe Gozen stood amidst a party of six, they were faced with a vast host and her husband ordered she retreat. Whether it was an act of love or a desire not to be shamed dying besides a woman is up to interpretation, but she refuses and charges the armies. A heart that burns with life, that primal spirit that buoys all to greatness. With blade in hand she sang her story into the page's of fable and history, she cleaved the heads of her foes even as her husband lost his own. Monkhood. Revenge. A tapestry of conclusions woven by countless lines of ink on paper. And a head unbowed, always. Abilites: Onna Musha- Though not Samurai themselves, a woman of Japan was expected to defend themselves and their homes. Tomoe Gozen went a step beyond by taking to the field, and bore the burden of carrying added arms upon her person. This takes the form of Suzuya drawing weapons from her tails, the traditional tools of the era settling easy in her hands with skill of the original Tomoe Gozen flowing through her. Strength of Heart- Suzuya is a shy, uncertain girl, but upon transforming she is suffused with a confidence entirely unknown to her. It makes her brave beyond measure, pushing forward to cut down her enemies and stand against the injustices of the world. Honor Through Head Taking- The old belief that the head must be washed and honored for a soul to pass peacefully into the afterlife. By cleaving the heads of Pageless, Suzuya's heart beats faster, till her body is wreathed in the fires of her passion. A temporary but stacking increase in power embodying Tomoe Gozen's fearlessness in open warfare against overwhelming odds. Peerless Horsemaster- UNAVAILABLE. Tomoe Gozen's greatest feats were accomplished on horse back, capable of guiding a steed over the harshest terrain and slay enemies at full gallop without sacrificing any of her dexterity. The grimoire summons a steed worthy of her legend, but Suzuya is unable to mount the horse till it accepts her holding the grimoire.</s> <\|message\|>Lucette Delacroix --The Verdict-- @Ponn @Villamvihar Though the verdict request was quite rhetorical, Lumiere wasn't surprised by the blonde's answer, in fact, she expected it, she was Ethereal Rose after all. The seraph didn't reply directly though, for the Pageless already did more than enough to show just how feasible it was to engage diplomacy with these creatures. Aye, try talking to something that was both non-sapient and actively malicious, it'd go as well as attempting to pet a rabid fox. Also as expected, Lady of the Lake and Captain Goodhope's reactions were more inline to what was proper, through these things might seem obvious, one must also remember that these girls were quite new compared to herself, inarguably so for Nessie, this being only her third day since a grimoire came to her. Again, the Pageless unwittingly answered the redhead's question. Truly, there was only one way to deal with dangerous pests, extermination. Lumiere took a step float back to let her students deal with the trapped Pageless as according to their verdicts. The Witch of Loch Ness commanded the aquatic aspect of the storm to form a veritable spear of water as it was flung into the clawed reaper's chest. At the same time, the Captain of the Flying Dutchman seemed to awaken... something within her core. Lumiere's veil and dress fluttered in the chaotic winds and if the angel could feel the blossoming radiance of hope from the twintailed blonde, she didn't show it, content to just stay in the background. And then in happened, a burst of thunderous power as Goodhope commanded the ionic aspect of the hurricane to summon multiple bolts of lightning. Fortunately for Lumiere, being blinded by light was never an issue, for the Light of God could never be outshone. Between the aqua lance and hail of lightning, the already-wounded Pageless was turned inside-out, utterly destroyed down to the last atom. Another foe of mankind put down, as it should. The seraph returned her obelisks to form into wings behind her back after, feeling the foreboding atmosphere clearing up following the alpha pageless's demise. "Excellent work, girls, you have done well." She gave an appreciate nod at each of them, Ethereal Rose & Xolys, Captain Goodhope, and Lady of the Lake, all received one, "We complement each other's abilities and as mankind have shown us throughout our history, camaraderie is the greatest tool that we have, against any and all odds, remember that you're never alone." She paused for a moment to let her words sink in before turning her gaze to another part of her English metropolis, "Speaking of which, let's see if our comrades need assistance." before accelerating toward the other patrol squad's location, expecting her own squad to follow suit.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Bell (Magical Maiden Ethereal Rose) @Villamvihar@Sonnambula In apparent response to Olivia's musings, the captive Pageless lunged in her direction, the resulting glow as it struck Lumiere's radiant barrier allowing the blonde beauty to catch a glimpse of the twisted visage beneath the creature's tattered cloak. "Oh my!" she exclaimed, more fascinated than frightened. "Are you actually a zombie?" she inquired as she studied what little of the creature's corpse-like features she could perceive. Unfortunately for the overly inquisitive maiden, her companions were far less interested in the idea of a possible Q&A session with what was obviously a being of pure hate and malice. Not wasting any time, the impetuous Lady of the Lake conjured a massive spear out of the surrounding rain water and drove it into the heart of the captive Pageless. Olivia was slightly taken aback by the suddenness of the attack, but that was nothing compared to her shock at what happened next… With a surprised gasp, Olivia's grip on Xolys tightened as a mighty gust of wind tore through the group, blowing her azure gown and golden tresses behind her. However, this was not the work of the still-contained Pageless, but rather one of their own number. They could all feel it, a swirling vortex of arcane power, centered on Captain Goodhope. Being closest to her, Olivia was able to hear the maritime maiden, who had until now remained silent, her eyes closed in prayer, give voice to a soft whisper. An instant later, the girl's Grimoire manifested in midair before her, its gilded cover shining like the beacon of a lighthouse. Taking hold of it, Wilhelmina employed the tome's noticeably heightened powers to conjure what was essentially a miniature hurricane, which, combined with Nessie's aqua spear, rapidly tore the captive Pageless to shreds. "Goodness me!" Olivia exclaimed. "That was amazing Helmi!" she told her friend excitedly. "And so very intense!" Lumiere proceeded to commend the team on their performance, after which Olivia gave the angelic girl a brilliant smile. "Thank you very much!" she told her team leader. "And I don't think I'll ever forget that," she added, gazing up at her eldritch consort. "Not with darling Xolys at my side!" At Lumiere's suggestion that they check up on Camelot's team, the otherworldly beast in question pivoted to fly after the silver-haired seraph, paying careful attention to ensure that his two passengers were safely secured. "I wonder if they encountered a Pageless as well…" Olivia mused aloud. If so, she was very curious to learn what it looked like, although whatever it was, she had no doubt that it wouldn't pose any threat to a team led by so strong and experienced a Magical Girl as Camelot.</s>	<\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha What followed after the team's run-in with Moonlight Tsubasa was less a patrol and more a tense walkabout the city. If any of them had the presence to truly be keeping an eye out for Pageless they didn't find anything, but it was more likely attention would be turned inwards, at least for Suzuya. At least the rainy weather was a familiar comfort, the soft crackle of rain evaporating against her bushy tails forming a steady background noise she savored. Even with the awkwardness of the other team flying by to check in on them. And for all her frustration and discomfort, Suzuya didn't say a word of it. Slipping into the role of the shy foreighner was easy when it served a purpose, and it let her reach the academy without any further attempts at provocation. And Suzuya was quite aware she'd tried to provoke a response at the stupidest time, nearly re-igniting the conflict they'd barely averted with her slap to Camelot. Pride was not something Suzuya was used to holding in high regard, but her Grimoire was not something she felt she could stand to be insulted on top of everything else. She was no King Arthur and she was hardly to ever be known outside her home country, but it wasn't some great hero that had saved Suzuya from her first brush with the Pageless. It was the story of a warrior wife who lived for love, only to suffer as her supposed allies betrayed her and placed insurmountable odds before her that claimed the life of her heart's dearest. Suzuya blinked, a moment of realization dawning upon her and snapping her from her thoughts to notice steam no longer wafted from her cup of green tea. Sitting beneath an umbrella-covered table in Merrywell's courtyard, her magic keeping her dry and cozy as she looked out over the grounds. She found herself waiting for her room mate, the elegant Alter with her terrifying paramour that Suzuya found a newfound desire to connect with. Her likely deepseeded trust issues aside, she found the hypocrisy of judging Camelot while following her mistakes simply impossible to swallow. Even if it proved...difficult, she was going to get to know her roommate.</s>
<\|description\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Title: Burning Heart Age: 16 Nationality: Japanese Bio: Suzuya was a girl who just wanted to start a school book club in her hometown of Miso when everything changed for. Staring down at a sheet of signatures, it's lack of any such names due entirely to her failure to ask anyone, she missed the bus that would not have just taken her home, but altered the entire course of her life. She was pulled from her fugue of self recrimination by a plea for help. An eerie, enchanting nose that evoked concern in her, pulling her from the bus stop as though she could make up for her social failings with a single act of compassion for her fellow man. Following the persistent cries lead her to an alley, where rather then a woman in distress she found a hyena like Pageless, braying with laughter amidst the cries of young girls, their voices mimiced by a beastial maw that reared back in an unkind smile. Terror crushed her in a vicegrip as the Pageless proved but one of many, claws raking across brickwork as they crawled down walls from rooftops and rose as though pulled from the shadows for the prospect of prey. Her story would have ended like countless others had there not been a savior pursuing the monsters, one that Suzuya never learned the name of. A hand clenched around her shoulder and hurled her away against the flank of a horse black as the night with a mane made of roaring flame. A Magical Girl clad in the heavy armor of a Samurai barred the way between her and the horde of Pageless, Suzuya glimpsing a face that was serene even as she struck her steed's flank and sent it galloping away with Suzuya curling herself upon it, abject horror and shock leaving her clinging like a lamprey even as it's fierce gallop shook her with every bound. The waning light of day had given way to night when the horse stopped, a mournful noise issuing forth before it flickered away like paper caught alight, dropping it's burden and a Grimoire to the careworn streets of Miso's outskirts. Suzuya took up this book, feeling the Grimoire connect to her, an understanding passing between them that this was the Samurai's, and now it was hers. A fire had been reported in Miso City that night, devouring abandoned tenements with not a soul in sight, but Suzuya knew better. She was still clutching the Grimoire to her chest when the first Magical Girls came to her home days later, telling her of the Grand Ministry and passing along to her parents the news she'd been selected for a foreign exchange student program that would offer her prestigious accolades on her student records. Suzuya packed her bags quietly, her life in freefall and changing faster then she had ever feared or dared to hope, and into the center of her Grimoire she left the folded form of a book club that hadn't been, a book mark in a literal sense. The tome was a weight on her chest, the burden of expectation she had shied away from once already. Her hands cradled the spine even as she ached to set it down, but she wouldn't let herself turn from this responsibility. She would carry this weight, and each day, little by little, the fire it stoked would remain outside her transformation. Or so she hoped. Heiki monogatari - Tale of Tomoe Gozen Classification: Fable Description: The Onna Musha, Warrior Woman, Tomoe Gozen was a devoted wife to her husband Yoshinori. So much so, rather then stay behind to defend their home, she fought beside him on the battlefield. A real life figure mixed with legend, rumors who have made her origin and ending fluid to the reader's preferences. What is held in certainty was that she was an exceptional warrior, master of the bow and the traditional woman's weapon of the Naginata, yet was said to favor the katana traditionally only allowed to samurai. She had the strength and skill matching a thousand men, and led an army just as large into battle alongside her husband. Her stories end comes with that of her husband's, as his successes mixed with incompetent leadership, resulting in his own family turning upon him out of jealousy. Their armies slaughtered till Tomoe Gozen stood amidst a party of six, they were faced with a vast host and her husband ordered she retreat. Whether it was an act of love or a desire not to be shamed dying besides a woman is up to interpretation, but she refuses and charges the armies. A heart that burns with life, that primal spirit that buoys all to greatness. With blade in hand she sang her story into the page's of fable and history, she cleaved the heads of her foes even as her husband lost his own. Monkhood. Revenge. A tapestry of conclusions woven by countless lines of ink on paper. And a head unbowed, always. Abilites: Onna Musha- Though not Samurai themselves, a woman of Japan was expected to defend themselves and their homes. Tomoe Gozen went a step beyond by taking to the field, and bore the burden of carrying added arms upon her person. This takes the form of Suzuya drawing weapons from her tails, the traditional tools of the era settling easy in her hands with skill of the original Tomoe Gozen flowing through her. Strength of Heart- Suzuya is a shy, uncertain girl, but upon transforming she is suffused with a confidence entirely unknown to her. It makes her brave beyond measure, pushing forward to cut down her enemies and stand against the injustices of the world. Honor Through Head Taking- The old belief that the head must be washed and honored for a soul to pass peacefully into the afterlife. By cleaving the heads of Pageless, Suzuya's heart beats faster, till her body is wreathed in the fires of her passion. A temporary but stacking increase in power embodying Tomoe Gozen's fearlessness in open warfare against overwhelming odds. Peerless Horsemaster- UNAVAILABLE. Tomoe Gozen's greatest feats were accomplished on horse back, capable of guiding a steed over the harshest terrain and slay enemies at full gallop without sacrificing any of her dexterity. The grimoire summons a steed worthy of her legend, but Suzuya is unable to mount the horse till it accepts her holding the grimoire.</s> <\|message\|>María de Borbón @TheWendil@Majoras End Maria had failed to notice the amassing group of students that came to watch the training and only really took note of them when Charlotte caught their attention. "You really are that known, are you not, Charlotte? That is quite formidable." Maria said, answering her companion's question with a smile - the first honest smile since she walked to the girls' side. Maria followed that by ignoring Charlotte's comment about needing girls like her. She, of course, disagreed. Maria felt like her presence was a potential risk to everyone around her...but that train of thoughts was redundant. She felt there was no need to bring it up out loud and, anyway, had a creeping suspicion that Charlotte might already know how Maria felt inside. She followed Charlotte away from the crowd, remaining silent at first. She had briefly heard of what had happened but only in whispers. Charlotte, if she was to be believed of course, confirmed it. Of course the Ministry would keep such dangerous news hidden from them. Maria sighed, looking down. News of a rogue magical girl was bad enough - and in a way terrifying - and they wanted her mixed in all of it? It was as if the Ministry twisted her fears on purpose in the worst ways possible. "I am afraid you might be right." she answered the the red head's last bit about getting used to her designed role and finding a teammate. "It cannot be avoided. I just hope that they will accept my presence. Very well then, Miss Clementine. I thank you for your time and wish you well." Maria politely bowed her farewell to Ozma and made her way down to the arena, arriving shortly after the blonde haired girl, Celina. Maria would also walk closer and give the same polite bow she gave Charlotte just moments earlier - an act of etiquette clearly betraying her real age. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Miss Lupin." she began by answering the newcomer. "My name is Maria de Borbón. It's a pleasure to meet all of you, truly. I had the pleasure of watching the end of your previous training exercise and was... impressed." Maria deemed unnecessary to mention out loud why she was sent here just yet. She did not know how the group would react to that, and did not wish to pass as pompous or pretentious. She then walked closer towards Valeria, who was in her conjured vehicle still. "Greetings, Miss Weizenbaum. Could I possibly have a word with you if possible?"</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance LILAC SHIMMER Bonnie took some time to regain her footing on the ground and steady out, be which time Nessie had already moved on. "Eh? That's it?" She stared in confusion at the mecha monstrosity's ease of disintegration. "I guess that was like, four of us attacking at the same time? I thought it was supposed to be all of us." Then came Valeria's assessment, and Lilac's brow furrowed. "That's not how this is supposed to work. It's supposed to not work the first time, and then the failure teaches us to do all the stuff you're talking bout now, right? This would make a terrible story moral! Don't do the stuff that worked fine?" One of the few things that seemed able to get Lilac worked up was when the magical girl stuff wasn't working out like it was 'supposed' to. "Unless like, this is the moment of hubris and a giant super Pageless only defeatable by teamwork shows up later?" She paused for a moment, and then bounced up to the edge of the arena and peered over it to double check, just in case. Glancing back and forth, she was not quick to find any giant Pageless sneaking up on the school. Lilac crossed her arms, a little upset at another team thing so soon after the other one... "I suppose team names and attacks are fun..." Lilac begrudgingly admitted, and finally lightened up a bit again, now starting to feel a little silly over being upset. Hopefully no one had been paying attention to her since she hadn't been talking to anyone in particular. As Lilac started looking around again, she noticed a couple of new faces... since when did they have a cute doggo girl? Was she someone's familiar like Rose's friend or a magical girl? Eh, either way, Lilac decided to wave to the newcomers, before thinking more about partners. It seemed like while she was focusing on other things, Lilac missed the talk about becoming closer to one's Grimoire, but, just as well, it seemed quite a few people were following that path already. Oddly enough it was Tesni who caught Lilac's ear. Huh, Tesni seemed to make a little sense, wait what was that about weakness? Why would someone want to be weak? Lilac didn't seem to get that. She decided to walk closer, her earlier hesitance forgotten in curiousity, and perhaps a spirit of camaraderie over unsatisfaction with the battle. "Um, I'm not sure I get that. Are you saying like, being the strongest would be boring because you don't have room to improve?" Lilac tried explaining what she thought Tesni said as a way to hopefully get correction on what Tesni meant.</s>	<\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha The lessons were concluded for the night, or so Burning Heart believed, her attention pulled from peers and students to find what should have been a lesson was more a spectator sport. How embarrasing would it have been had they failed miserably with so many seniors and peers watching over them? The vulpine Magical Girl shuddered and chose to hop off of Xolys shoulder as more new faces came from stand and shadow alike to either introduce themselves or peruse them like one does a merchant's wares. With a slow blink, Burning Heart stopped, reconsidering that maybe her sour impressions of, well, the entire landmass of England and all therein, was making her a touch paranoid. Her transformation unfurled around her, a swirl of flame the rose dispersed on the wind to leave skittish, old Suzuya in her place. In Xolys shadow. Her heart slammed into her throat and she nearly bit her tongue stiffling the imminent urge to shriek. But...she knew he wasn't slimy. That counted for a lot, even without her Grimoire girding her will actively, and she tentatively reached her hand out. Just a pat, light and brief as though expecting to bitten, before withdrawing to her side. She'd touched him, and he was most definetly dry! The blonde perked up, imaginary ears wiggling atop her head before she remembered she wasn't a fox at the moment- Err, at all! "I think I can sleep without transforming tonight..." She murmured, hands curling under her chin as pulled her sweater to hide the excited flush of her cheeks and the giddy pull to her lips. There was a pleased warmth coming from her Grimoire, and she wondered if she actually needed a tuner to get in touch with it.</s>
<\|description\|>Bonnie Chance LILAC SHIMMER 19 y/o \| Female \| 154cm (5'0.5") NATIONALITY: Canadian APPEARANCE: Casual Wear Uniform Part Timer Bonnie is a French Canadian oft bearing a smile on her lips and a spring in her step, as long as there hasn't been a long night slaying pageless on a school night. She's a tiny bit short, but otherwise limber and athletic, and insists her next growth spurt is right around the corner, regardless of what any senior magical girls tell her. Her pride and joy is taking great care of her extravagant hair and hairstyle, which nicely frames her pale skin and sparkling lilac-pink eyes. Lilac Shimmer strides on the battlefield garbed in radiant attire. The striking white core of her outfit serves to accept the colors of Joyeuse and live up to her name, shimmering finer than silk in the aurora of Joyeuse's power. And, one cannot forget Joyeuse himself, a kingly companion, a fine stout medieval longsword, no flippant rapier, crowned with a hilt of royal gold. In her hands the blade seems large enough to be wielded two handed, and at times she will, but as a Magical Girl she can nonetheless wield it with deadly ease in a single hand. Inside school, Bonnie's outfit is not exactly kept to an exactingly formal standard. Comfort is more important for those mid-class naps. Outside of school or work, Bonnie tends towards tomboyish outfits, though one might occasionally find her aiming for a cute or elegant appeal instead of a handsome one. Relatively common is a mix and match, with a rather boyish top combined with a skirt. The exception to the rule is her extravagant work uniform. GRIMOIRE: Title: La Chanson de Roland Classification: Fable The Song of Roland is an epic poem of medieval France, celebrating deeds of honor, kingship, battle and crusade. Dating back to the 11th century, it is a tale of some longevity, being quite popular in medieval France. It is a tale of court and crusade, justice and treachery. In Bonnie's hands, the Grimoire grants her the sword of Charlemange. As for the reason the Song of Roland grants her Charlemange's blade, she's not sure, though Charles is prominently featured. Perhaps it has something to do with a right to rule? But if so, what does a mere magical girl rule? Bonnie does not yet understand the significance, still puzzling as to the deeper meanings. While the Song of Roland is a historically important tale, oft credited with aiding the rise of French national sentiment, it certainly doesn't have worldwide reach. Durandal the blade of Roland is probably more famous than Roland or his song, simply for appearing as a legendary weapon in games. But it is little more than a name to most. How many do you know that actually read the Song of Roland? And perhaps more importantly, the modern world has little positive regard for crusades and wars of religion these days. As such, the Song of Roland is currently classified as Fable rank. The Song of Roland's primary ability is to summon for Lilac Shimmer the legendary sword of Charlemange, Joyeuse, a powerful longsword of shifting colors. While later legends might ascribe to it the power of Longinus, Joyeuse is not as mythical as that weapon. It is nonetheless peerless to any mortal blade and possesses a curious power. While drawn, Joyeuse may be used to create colorful displays of vibrant, joyful even, lights. This power seems to act naturally when Lilac is enjoying the thrill of battle resulting in the battlefield being lit up like a festival. Finally, as a melee type magical girl, Lilac Shimmer indeed possesses the typical physical suite of enhancements assumed of that type. BIOGRAPHY: Bonnie can be described as typically enthusiastic and bombastic, but still trying to find her place in the world. She will oft make bold declarative statements of truth, but internally doubt as to whether they really are so. If she's willing to share her doubts with you, it's a strong sign of her trust that she doesn't make for many. Bonnie has a rather direct and immediate approach to most problem solving. Pageless? Transform, pronounce judgment, and strike! Need money? Go around and see who's hiring. Schoolwork? Ah, who cares, just write something down, a guess is better than a blank sheet. She tends towards decisively doing the most obvious solution, even if perhaps a bit more care should be taken to determine the proper solution. The exception to this habit is relational issues, that instead have her shaking in her boots and taking no action at all or reacting defensively. The loss of her Magical Girl Team, not to Pageless, but simply drifting apart, has shattered her confidence in that regard. Overall, she's still young, even if not quite as young as she looks, and puts up a brave front to try and hide a teeming mass of insecurities. Bonnie's own story is not all that unbelievable or out of the ordinary. A bright young girl of 19 years, traveling to a university abroad to study. The subject of her study, being a magical girl, may certainly be out of the norm, but as a whole her past is not what troubles her, but the future. Bonnie Chance was born an only child to French Canadians, not in Quebec, but in London. London Ontario that is. Bonnie still keeps in contact with her parents regularly, for as much they know, she is enjoying a full ride scholarship in a prestigious far off academy. Bonnie keeps back ups of every single message they share with each other across the pond, dreading the day when she has to break ties with them. A magical girls lot is not a mortals lot, and eventually the two worlds must shift apart. Bonnie became a magical girl three years ago, while attending a camp in the woods. Tales and chocolates exchanged by firelight, interrupted by an eerie howl came from the darkness. The chaperone told them to stay as he would check it out, and they huddled close whispering whether it was beast or prank. A scream issued from where their chaperone investigated. The others fled in panic to their cabins, but something different steeled Bonnie. Grabbing a stout stick and the flashlight app on her phone, she set forth into the darkness. What she found was one of the Pageless, this one a twisted beast both moose and man the size of a van and crowned in gore soaked horns. An impossible beast a thousand times her match. Yet she could not help but charge. From her lips spilled forth not a battle cry, but a song, a poem, in flowing words she knew not. Something French. The stick in her hands was not a stick anymore, but a glorious blade, and Lilac Shimmer cleaved the beast in twain. But Bonnie was not alone that night, multiple Pageless had attacked different campers, and more than one Magical Girl was born that night, defending the woods. In the months after, they formed a small Magical Girl team, defending London and the surrounding area against the Pageless. Eventually, however, this team came to an end. Not because of the Pageless, but ironically, joining a 'greater' team. Eventually they were recruited into the Grand Ministry, and, amid that larger team, lost their smaller identity. Having lost that solidarity of the smaller team in which she was a prominent member, Bonnie now finds herself questioning her place in the vast Grand Ministry. ODDS AND ENDS: She doesn't know much of French culture, beyond some fragmented snippets of language and here and there. She knows enough to get the joke in her name, for example. She's been struggling to try and read her Grimoire in its original text, but so far has resorted to reading English translations. Given the French origins of her tale, she's a little disappointed Marrywell is in Britain as opposed to France. Here are some places I'd love to see her story go. If you've got an idea for any of them, hit me up. The Grand Ministry: Bonnie has mixed feelings. She's happy with the opportunity to study in Marrywell and the support they can offer her, but struggles with how she's effectively lost her smaller team as the former members seek position within the Grand Ministry. The Song of Roland: Bonnie struggles to understand the moral she should take from the tale. It's not exactly time to reconquer Spain from the muslims, so the meaning must be something else. The Nature of a King: Bonnie feels a desire to live up to the legend of Charlemange.. But it's not right for a magical girl to go around conquering countries right? Two Worlds: Bonnie is putting off facing the fact that being a magical girl will eventually result in her walking very different paths to her parents. The King's Court: Bereft of her former teammates, Bonnie feels alone in a crowd. She's worried it's her own fault for the group splitting up, and that if she was of greater charisma she could have kept them together. In a Name: Bonnie came up with her magical girl name herself on a whim 3 years ago, and worries it's a bit childish for her knightly/kingly image she's aiming for nowadays. Is foolhardy pride to want a cooler name, or simply a matter of growth?</s> <\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Suzuya Kuzunoha What followed after the team's run-in with Moonlight Tsubasa was less a patrol and more a tense walkabout the city. If any of them had the presence to truly be keeping an eye out for Pageless they didn't find anything, but it was more likely attention would be turned inwards, at least for Suzuya. At least the rainy weather was a familiar comfort, the soft crackle of rain evaporating against her bushy tails forming a steady background noise she savored. Even with the awkwardness of the other team flying by to check in on them. And for all her frustration and discomfort, Suzuya didn't say a word of it. Slipping into the role of the shy foreighner was easy when it served a purpose, and it let her reach the academy without any further attempts at provocation. And Suzuya was quite aware she'd tried to provoke a response at the stupidest time, nearly re-igniting the conflict they'd barely averted with her slap to Camelot. Pride was not something Suzuya was used to holding in high regard, but her Grimoire was not something she felt she could stand to be insulted on top of everything else. She was no King Arthur and she was hardly to ever be known outside her home country, but it wasn't some great hero that had saved Suzuya from her first brush with the Pageless. It was the story of a warrior wife who lived for love, only to suffer as her supposed allies betrayed her and placed insurmountable odds before her that claimed the life of her heart's dearest. Suzuya blinked, a moment of realization dawning upon her and snapping her from her thoughts to notice steam no longer wafted from her cup of green tea. Sitting beneath an umbrella-covered table in Merrywell's courtyard, her magic keeping her dry and cozy as she looked out over the grounds. She found herself waiting for her room mate, the elegant Alter with her terrifying paramour that Suzuya found a newfound desire to connect with. Her likely deepseeded trust issues aside, she found the hypocrisy of judging Camelot while following her mistakes simply impossible to swallow. Even if it proved...difficult, she was going to get to know her roommate.</s> <\|message\|>Valeria Weizenbaum As Ozma walked the halls of Marrywell Academy, something exciting was unfolding. With the sound of thunder, a large explosion bursts up from the right wing of the school. An entire classroom went up into smoke as students poured out through the halls in fear and panic, thinking they were under attack. A fire alarm would ring and sprinklers would spray cold water across the halls. All of this certainly got the attention of Ozma and any other students who had arrived at the academy. The culprit would step out from the smoke and dust, coughing and blowing the smoke from her face with a wave of her hand. Her metal arms would crackle with electrifying power to summon a large vaccum nozzle, sucking up the dark clouds and removing them from view. Any flames nearby are promptly put out with a water nozzle hose, summoned just as fast on her transforming arms. "Ozma! You're late! You missed my defense training class, dumkopf! It was a real banger!" The perpetrator would rush up to the redhead and suddenly tackle her in a gripping hug, squeezing her waist and covering the poor magical girl in soot and ash. It's none other than Valeria Weisenbaum, Charlotte's old partner from her past. "Bit of a minor miscalculation there with a student's spell, but nothing to fear! I've got it under control!" Behind her, the roof of the blasted out classroom finally collapsed in onto itself and was reduced to a heap of rubble and metal with gray smoke bellowing up from its destruction. "I can fix this! I promise!"</s>	<\|message\|>Bonnie Chance Perhaps someone stronger than Bonnie would have sought to make amends between Camelot and Burning Heart. Mend the cracks that were slowly growing. But in that moment, all she wanted to do was to melt in Burning Heart's embrace. To Bonnie, there was a raw difference in the two proclamations of friendship. In her eyes, Camelot's seemed driven by duty and pity, that she was a project to fix, a friendship that would be nothing more than a painful reminder of all the things wrong with her until she was 'fixed' to Camelot's standards. While Burning Heart felt like maybe, maybe, finally, Bonnie had found someone who enjoyed being around her. That maybe she wasn't broken after all. And in that hope, Bonnie could find refuge, safe in Burning Heart's Arms, hugging her tightly back. "Thank you." She whispered with her head low into Burning Heart's shoulder. -- Space to be filled with potential after patrol/after meeting up with the other team shenanigans here.</s>
<\|description\|>Nessie Burns Age: 19 Nationality: Scottish Appearance: Description: A fairly rambunctious and stubborn girl, Nessie isn't dissimilar to your average Scotsman. She can display quite a tough and, at times, even rude and imposing exterior when in the company of strangers. Around friends she is brash, cheeky and can be quite loud, frequently poking fun at those she surrounds herself with. Equally, though, she also enjoys her own company, her favourite passtime being sitting by or swimming in a lake, especially one surrounded by beautiful scenery. Definitely the outdoors type. She loves a good drink though, and will never say no to having a pint in a nice pub. Biography: Born in the Scottish Highlands, Nessie comes from a fairly wealthy background, her childhood home a rural manor house within an idyllic setting. Mountains, hills, woodland and lakes as far as the eye can see. The perfect place for an adventurous young girl like her, and still it remains her favourite place. Her parents work in... well, that she's not really sure of. Never has been, even to this day and age. And it's not like she's had many opportunities to ask them either. At a young age she was sent to a prestigious boarding school for girls in Edinburgh, to both heighten her education and to keep her somewhere while her parents were away from home working. And it is there that she has remained most of her life since then. Even when school is out, she usually goes to stay with her uncle, who lives in an apartment not too far from her school, and with whom she's built quite a strong connection with over the years. After finishing school at the age of 18 however, she didn't really know what to do with herself. She would go between the Highlands and Edinburgh, aimlessly inhabiting each of her homes while thinking of what she wanted to do with her life. Though she had done well at school, it felt like something was missing. It went on like this for a year until her uncle, noticing her rut and seeing the effect it was having on her, recommended a change of scenery for the girl. A breath of fresh air (metaphorically speaking) and an opportunity to see her future more clearly, whether that was university or immediately starting a career. And so now Nessie finds herself in London, the heart and the capital of England. And yet still, even with such a dramatic change in surroundings from where she was previously based, and with so many opportunities and paths right at her fingertips, the girl still feels as though she hasn't found what's right for her yet. Not only that, but since arriving in London she can't help but feel unusual. Strange flickers at the corner of her eye occasionally catch her attention, unexplainable shapes looming around her only to disappear as soon as she puts her full attention on them. Perhaps something there is something coming her way, a path she never could've expected... Grimoire • Title: The Loch Ness Monster • Classification: Legend • Description: One of the ultimate creatures of folk lore, the phenomenon of the Loch Ness Monster has its roots way back in the sixth century, though most of its notoriety bubbled up in the late 19th and 20th centuries. The illusive long-necked creature, described by some to be a sea serpent or dragon living deep within the waters of Loch Ness, has created ripples throughout history with its disputed existence, gradually being pulled more and more into the limelight of contention until becoming the staple of the paranormal that it is today. And so its legend is reflected in its equally illusive Grimoire. A story that, to this day and perhaps even far into the future, has not seen its end. • Abilities: The Undine - At will, Nessie is able to manipulate any water around her and bend it completely to her will. She can also summon water out of thin air if required, but that takes more energy and control to do, so don't expect her to be summoning reservoirs of water with no difficulty right off the bat. It'll take training to get anywhere close to that. Misty Waters - Like the monster itself, Nessie can disappear herself out of thin air. The only catch is that she may only remain invisible as long as she can hold her breath. There is a loophole to this ability however, as shown with the next one. The Loch's Blessing - These are more passive abilities than anything, but they can definitely come in handy, especially in a city that contains a massive river (looks at London). The Grimoire grants Nessie with incredibly swift swimming speed, making her look like a blur to anyone above the surface. On top of this she can also breathe, hear and see completely clearly when underwater, almost as if she were on normal ground. The final blessing is the loophole to her Misty Waters ability, which is that she can turn invisible for as long as she wishes when underwater, essentially ignoring its limitation. Of course, most battles would probably take place above water so this ability may not always be as useful as it sounds, but in the right situation, as well as clever usage, it can provide Nessie with an invaluable edge.</s> <\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Suzuya Kuzunoha Burning Heart watched the Pageless fall from a respectful distance, eyes steady as she observed the clash of near half a dozen strikes upon the monster. There was no harmony to be found in it, but a heart warming unity of purpose saw each blow open a crack in the Pageless and widen it, creating a path for the newborn Magical Girl to strike true. The Japanese Magical Girl's grimoire pulsed with approval, an echo of a pulse running alongside Suzuya's own that took joy from seeing the birth of a noble Onna Musha as she was nurtured to this moment of conception by the efforts of her seniors. It was a moment of noblity in birth, the grace of matrons elevating a maiden into a sisterhood that persisted against the encroaching dark time and time again. It was everything Suzuya had ached for and would never have. Not a week into her life as a Magical Girl and already could she see another be inducted with all the fan faire and acceptance of a story book made manifest. There was bile on her tongue, it's acrid taste mixed with the ash lining her throat to make for a bitter concoction to swallow. But she didn't need the domination of her Grimoire to force back her resentment, as she hadn't the heart to sully such a moment and her powers wouldn't see it stained by the fouler side of a woman's heart either. The perpetual wall flower watched the danger pass and the people rouse from their stupor, magic erasing the stomping of a godly staff and her own roaring flames. The scent of gunpowder left the air and even the errant slashes of Xolys where absent from girders and stonework. The Beast himself struck Suzuya in the oddest sense, for while she was uncomfortable by it, Burning Heart's hold upon her left her with no ill effect. In fact, just seeing Olivia carried in upon it left the Grimoire considering him a substitute mount when next they entered battle, a sentiment that came with a palpable disappointment from the Grimoire in its host. Suzuya couldn't blame the book for feeling that when it was her inability to tame a horse that was stiffling it's full power. Grimoire and Magical Girl shook themselves, finding it easy to lose themselves like this when they lacked a present threat to give them purpose. Weirdly enough they did this upon finding Camelot motioning to them before she turned away, something they took for a loss of interest from their lack of response. "These are fine warriors. Perhaps we will have more time to mingle later." She opined aloud, her Japanese clipped and curt as it drifted into the morning air, before turning away and darting back to Merrywell as the group departed for their fortress in this foggy land. Only at the gate did Burning Heart release it's hold on Suzuya, the girl's confidence melting away with her tails just as they came before the throngs of Magical Girls going about their business. And the incesant whispers her ears naturally tuned towards, a frown dominating her expression as she curled her arms around herself for some small measure of comfort. Prickles of gooseflesh crept along her arms as her eyes scanned back and forth, trying to put faces to the words even as she realized they weren't directed at her. Still, it didn't do anything to make her feel welcomed here. She was better at understanding English and reading it then speaking it herself, but the alien tongue left her aching for the support of her Grimoire. Then a weirdo leaped into a bush and exasperated girls barreled towards them, Suzuya releasing a shriek as she found herself knocked over onto the dusty courtyard. Why did I even come here?</s> <\|message\|>Lucette Delacroix --Morning at Marywell-- By the time the group of magically-immortal girls arrived at the mythical Marywell Academy, the moon had abdicated her reign to the sun as warm golden light caressed the horizon. This marked the definite end of the Pageless' encroachment upon the human world, at least for this part of the globe. That was one of the major reasons why Magical Girls are so important, somewhere out there, it's always nighttime. It was a precarious thing to balance global presence versus power concentration as spreading the girls too thin would mean their enemies could easily snatch them one by one; even the mightiest of Mythics couldn't hold a candle to the power of camaraderie. The sheer wisdom and experience it took to take in all of these factors and make decisions where mistakes potentially cost lives... Twas' precisely why anyone who doubted the Grand Minister were mostly misguided and/or short-sighted as was common with the younger magical girls, but there were those who truly stood in opposition against Lady Marywell and regrettably... if they were going to be enemies of the protector of humanity, then they shall be treated like one. However, even amongst the former, there were select cases where their refusal to respect protocol was starting to endanger innocent lives. What was the use of feeding the homeless for a short few years, fattening them up just so they could be devoured by the Pageless later? Whatever twisted gestalt consciousness that directed the umbral legions was smart; It's ravenous and malicious, but not stupid like a rabid dog. It's a patient puppetmaster that possessed plans to destroy humanity's guardians and not all of them necessarily involved direct physical threats. Lucette was worried that Chinami was an unwitting pawn to-... ah, it's her. Lucette's deep thoughts were interrupted by none other than the one and only Wizard of Oz, Charlotte Clementine, who - befitting the story that her grimoire emulated - had a mysterious power and an unknown chronological age, although for the latter, by virtue of the Wonderful Wizard of Oz's first manifestation into the world, she could be born in the same generation as Lucette at the oldest. Being at the front of the group, Lucy had the best seat in the house to watch the redhead being chased by no less than three students. For all of her power's mystery, there was one thing for sure about Charlotte, the girl was fast. It only took but a brief moment until the "19-year-old" stopped before the "15-year-old" as they stared into each other for a second, well, Lucette was staring; Charlotte was more grinning at everyone really. "I'm confident that they won't ask, Charlotte." She made a mental shrug as Ozma literally dove behind a bush to transport herself to Merlin-knows-where. Typical. "Charlotte Clementine or Ozma, chosen bearer of the grimoiric manifestation of the Wonderful Wizard of Oz." The white-haired girl answered the younger redhead's question regarding her fellow ginger, "She has been with us for a long while, this won't be the last time you'll see her antics, but rest assured, she has good intentions and knows what she's doing." Unlike some of them here... With a smile, she shifted her attention to the whole group of seven magical girls, excluding herself, "Girls, please rest for now, you more than deserve it. Thank you for your brave contributions last night, rest assured that as the vanguard of humanity's salvation, your efforts are noble and just." She wouldn't bother anyone with a long-winded speech so as to not waste anyone's time, however, she did specifically turn her gaze back at Nessie after. The looked-younger-but-actually-much-older shorter girl placed a reassuring hand on the Scot's shoulder, "Miss Burns, I'm sure you have questions about what happened to you, what was those creatures, and most importantly, what does this mean for you going forward. While I'd love to personally answer all of them, I have an important matter to attend to right now. So, someone else will brief you on all the important information you deserve to know and show you to your room. However, I will be sure to visit you in the short future." She curled a solemn motherly smile as her hand patted the redhead's shoulder a few times. That done, Lumiere left the group to their own devices; no doubt to Chinami's relief. .......... ..... ... Moments later, the white-haired girl found herself in front of the double doors leading into the Grand Minister's personal study, effectively the principal's office in mundane academies, and knocked, "Lady Marywell, this is Lucette, may I take a moment of your time? I have an important matter to discuss with you."</s>	<\|message\|>Nessie Burns Charlotte Clementine. Ozma. Both names meant nothing to Nessie, at least in terms of being able to recognise them. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, though? Now that, she knew. She looked slightly surprised at the mention of it though; a powerset based on the Wizard of Oz seemed slightly... odd to her. Like, what, had she disappeared off to Kansas or something? Sensing that more questions at this particular point would just be wasting people's time, however, Nessie simply responded with a nod before listening to Lucette's words of praise towards the whole group. She didn't feel dissatisfied, not that much at least, but there was still something that she felt was missing. Some vital piece of information to make things clearer. After all, how can you recognise someone in the same striking way she had just seconds ago, without having any recollection of their name? The mention of rest, however, was not lost on Nessie. She'd gotten up early the previous morning for a university interview, and a whole 24 hours or so awake at this point combined with the rigour of the night's events were beginning to set in on her, in the form of an oppressive and unyielding feeling of exhaustion. Which was probably why she didn't have a problem with Lucette going when she did. Now wasn't the best time for a Q&A. "Nae bother... I'll see you later." It felt odd that a girl that looked younger than she did had such a matronly demeanour to her. Those pats and parting words left Nessie with a warm smile, one that opened up to a yawn while she was mid-sentence and interrupted her for a couple of seconds, before she burst out of it with a chuckle. With Lucette gone though, now Nessie turned to the rest of her newly acquainted comrades, unable to help another yawn slipping out while she spoke. She rubbed her eyes in an attempt to refresh them and rid them of their dull, tired quality, but it didn't help much. "So, uh... where're the bedrooms then? I could bloody well use a good kip." Given the size of the castle itself, Nessie had a feeling she was going to need some help with directions here, lest she end up passed out in a squash court or something.</s>
<\|description\|>Nessie Burns Age: 19 Nationality: Scottish Appearance: Description: A fairly rambunctious and stubborn girl, Nessie isn't dissimilar to your average Scotsman. She can display quite a tough and, at times, even rude and imposing exterior when in the company of strangers. Around friends she is brash, cheeky and can be quite loud, frequently poking fun at those she surrounds herself with. Equally, though, she also enjoys her own company, her favourite passtime being sitting by or swimming in a lake, especially one surrounded by beautiful scenery. Definitely the outdoors type. She loves a good drink though, and will never say no to having a pint in a nice pub. Biography: Born in the Scottish Highlands, Nessie comes from a fairly wealthy background, her childhood home a rural manor house within an idyllic setting. Mountains, hills, woodland and lakes as far as the eye can see. The perfect place for an adventurous young girl like her, and still it remains her favourite place. Her parents work in... well, that she's not really sure of. Never has been, even to this day and age. And it's not like she's had many opportunities to ask them either. At a young age she was sent to a prestigious boarding school for girls in Edinburgh, to both heighten her education and to keep her somewhere while her parents were away from home working. And it is there that she has remained most of her life since then. Even when school is out, she usually goes to stay with her uncle, who lives in an apartment not too far from her school, and with whom she's built quite a strong connection with over the years. After finishing school at the age of 18 however, she didn't really know what to do with herself. She would go between the Highlands and Edinburgh, aimlessly inhabiting each of her homes while thinking of what she wanted to do with her life. Though she had done well at school, it felt like something was missing. It went on like this for a year until her uncle, noticing her rut and seeing the effect it was having on her, recommended a change of scenery for the girl. A breath of fresh air (metaphorically speaking) and an opportunity to see her future more clearly, whether that was university or immediately starting a career. And so now Nessie finds herself in London, the heart and the capital of England. And yet still, even with such a dramatic change in surroundings from where she was previously based, and with so many opportunities and paths right at her fingertips, the girl still feels as though she hasn't found what's right for her yet. Not only that, but since arriving in London she can't help but feel unusual. Strange flickers at the corner of her eye occasionally catch her attention, unexplainable shapes looming around her only to disappear as soon as she puts her full attention on them. Perhaps something there is something coming her way, a path she never could've expected... Grimoire • Title: The Loch Ness Monster • Classification: Legend • Description: One of the ultimate creatures of folk lore, the phenomenon of the Loch Ness Monster has its roots way back in the sixth century, though most of its notoriety bubbled up in the late 19th and 20th centuries. The illusive long-necked creature, described by some to be a sea serpent or dragon living deep within the waters of Loch Ness, has created ripples throughout history with its disputed existence, gradually being pulled more and more into the limelight of contention until becoming the staple of the paranormal that it is today. And so its legend is reflected in its equally illusive Grimoire. A story that, to this day and perhaps even far into the future, has not seen its end. • Abilities: The Undine - At will, Nessie is able to manipulate any water around her and bend it completely to her will. She can also summon water out of thin air if required, but that takes more energy and control to do, so don't expect her to be summoning reservoirs of water with no difficulty right off the bat. It'll take training to get anywhere close to that. Misty Waters - Like the monster itself, Nessie can disappear herself out of thin air. The only catch is that she may only remain invisible as long as she can hold her breath. There is a loophole to this ability however, as shown with the next one. The Loch's Blessing - These are more passive abilities than anything, but they can definitely come in handy, especially in a city that contains a massive river (looks at London). The Grimoire grants Nessie with incredibly swift swimming speed, making her look like a blur to anyone above the surface. On top of this she can also breathe, hear and see completely clearly when underwater, almost as if she were on normal ground. The final blessing is the loophole to her Misty Waters ability, which is that she can turn invisible for as long as she wishes when underwater, essentially ignoring its limitation. Of course, most battles would probably take place above water so this ability may not always be as useful as it sounds, but in the right situation, as well as clever usage, it can provide Nessie with an invaluable edge.</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance LILAC SHIMMER "Good. Let's take a moment, ok?" Bonnie guided Suzuya over to a nearby bench and sat down beside her, speaking softly. Bonnie stayed with Suzuya as everyone else launched into debate. Her head was swimming with all the perspectives on display, but she wanted to stay solid for Suzuya right now. As the Pageless appeared, Bonnie gave a reassuring shoulder rub, and whispered, "You can sit this one out if you like." "I don't know about the future, but I know right now my heart wants to fight." Bonnie begins shining as she stares at Roma. A spotlight shines over her as if she were on stage. Then her eyes drift over to her companions, as a flower materializes in her hands, held to her lips. "There are too many beautiful things in this world to worry about whose responsibility it is to defend them." She dramatically tosses the sparkling flower into the sky whose petals fall, like the shower above a wedded couple. By the time gazes fall back down to Bonnie from the eyecatching flower, the transformation into Lilac Shimmer is already complete, and with a spin, the illusions of petals scatter to the wind as a Magical Girl stands ready for battle. "Another time, there's battle to be done." Lilac returns her gaze to Roma, dismissing her words for now, before gazing to the sky to face the Pageless. ~Alright, that should be what to say if she's like, she's the type whose's gonna play coy before helping... Wait, I hope she didn't, like, summon the bad guys, and I'm about to get hit while I'm dramatically staring skyward.~ Lilac's eyes drop from the Pageless for a moment to nervously glance around everyone, even as she holds her chin high as if she's still looking up.</s> <\|message\|>Tesni Edris Title: Dynasty Queen Dynasty Queen "Ahhh, it's all gone tocachu hwch." The crude curse sprung from Tesni's lips. Reaching down she grabbed the 'mugger' by the collar and tossed him at the fleeing crowed. "Don't forget this asshole you fuckin' idiots! Fuck, fuck fuck…" she buried her face in her hands, not out of any despair or fear. Simply out of sheer annoyance at the fact the swarm of Pageless were probably all over the city and more than that... she was going to have to actively try to not break any buildings. "Fuck it, you know what, fuck it. Do what you can and don't stress about what you can't…" taking a deep breath she started walking back across the road to where the rest of the girls were and more importantly… where the enigmatic lady stood, the lady the Pageless appeared to be at the very least paying attention to, even when there was plenty of people and magical girls around to attack. "The divine root conceives, its source revealed; Mind and nature nurtured, the Great Dao is born." as her foot fell, a golden ring rippled out on the ground, the faint chorus of ancient Chinese instruments announcing her transformation. It floated upward around her, transforming her as it passed, stopping at her forehead and contracted in making a golden circlet before fading away. Now in full Magical Girl regalia, Tesni reached behind her ear for a toothpick, twirled it between her fingers and had it expand into her staff and slung it over her shoulders. "Okay Magical Babies, focus or you'll get done in by gross little Pageless~! I'll tell you what; if you don't feel like fighting I promise I'll take care of them all for you. Keep in mind the more I have to take care of on my own, the less careful I can be with my attacks. So I hope you don't have a favourite restaurant nearby~!" Tesni's eyes were glimmering with excitement, this was a challenge. There was no fear in her grin, no change in her stride. Her eyes darted around, absorbing all she could about her surroundings and then she licked her lips. Suddenly there was a golden blur as she swung her staff down over head it expanding in length, as if she were simply chopping wood, right at the crowd of Pageless… and more importantly right where Roma stood. There was a ripping sound as it tore through the air, as if the natural physics of the world was struggling to account for her weapon the Ruyi Jingu Bang. A line of thought so simple it was absurd led Tesni to this action; 'If Miss Enigmatic is an ally she will dodge. If she is not, either she will block and save her subordinates or a Pageless would protect her... and if this is enough to take her out, well what good would she be in a fight?' This basic deduction would only last for as long as this skirmish lasted, but it was important to determine if you were going to get stabbed in the back.</s>	<\|message\|>Nessie Burns Though Lucette's answer was decidedly more sensical, informed and intriguing than Wilhelmina's, both answers got an appreciative smile from the curious Nessie, as new information pieced together in her mind to finally give her a proper idea of what they were up against, and why they were up against it. The senior magical girl's story of her self-proclaimed 'most interesting encounter' also did not disappoint. The initial shock on Nessie's face, after realising their group leader was perhaps around a century older than her appearance suggested -whatever skin lotion Lucette was using, she needed it-, gradually creased more and more into a look of utter bewilderment across the redhead's countenance as the story was told. "Holy shit..." Was all Nessie could manage, an exhale of a mutter in the silence after the tense conclusion of Lucette's recollection. After all that, of course, only more questions were uncovered in the process of her previous ones being answered, but those could wait. Maybe she'd even find out some answers herself today. As though a response to her very thoughts, no sooner than when the group was ready to move on, did the clouds rolls like a jagged blanket to cover the once-blue sky. Now there was no need for Lucette to demonstrate the contrast between light and shadow. The shadow had come. And, for now, there was little light to be seen. Rain harshly showered over the city, darkening all that it touched and soaking any who would brave the storm unprotected. Though that was nothing compared to the intensity of the lightning strikes that pierced through cloud and tore into unseen locations, creating an ominous resonance that echoed through Nessie like a sinister alarm. It's not like she wasn't used to it, after all she was from Scotland for christ's sake, but something about lightning always felt... unnerving to her. If that hadn't made her stomach drop though then what lurked above, shown only in brief flashes from forks of lightning around it, definitely did. A pair of giant, coin-like golden eyes staring down at them. At everyone in the city. The complete lack of spirit and emotion in them, their unflinching nature, made them about as far from being human as could possibly be. And so little doubt was left in Nessie's mind as to what exactly this creature was. But things were different now. She didn't have to run away or cower, and neither did she feel like it. In fact, if anything, she felt a certain sense of excitement. This wasn't just a chance to get to grips more with her powers, but it was also an opportunity to kick some ass with her comrades. There was something so exhilarating about that to the young Scot. Closing her eyes, Nessie conjured the image of her grimoire and witch attire in her mind, focussing on it from a meditative angle and keeping completely still. As a light filled her mind's eye, the rain which poured down around her suddenly changed the direction of their streams, converging and spiralling around her, practically engulfing the girl, before bursting away to reveal her transformed state and outfit below. She stepped to her teammates' sides, broomstick materialising in her grip as she turned to each in turn with an enthusiastic grin, defiant of the presence of those looming eyes above them. "So, where does this one rank in your 'most interesting Pageless' encounters then?" She joshed Lucette, turning to her with a cheeky sideward glance.</s>
<\|description\|>Nessie Burns Age: 19 Nationality: Scottish Appearance: Description: A fairly rambunctious and stubborn girl, Nessie isn't dissimilar to your average Scotsman. She can display quite a tough and, at times, even rude and imposing exterior when in the company of strangers. Around friends she is brash, cheeky and can be quite loud, frequently poking fun at those she surrounds herself with. Equally, though, she also enjoys her own company, her favourite passtime being sitting by or swimming in a lake, especially one surrounded by beautiful scenery. Definitely the outdoors type. She loves a good drink though, and will never say no to having a pint in a nice pub. Biography: Born in the Scottish Highlands, Nessie comes from a fairly wealthy background, her childhood home a rural manor house within an idyllic setting. Mountains, hills, woodland and lakes as far as the eye can see. The perfect place for an adventurous young girl like her, and still it remains her favourite place. Her parents work in... well, that she's not really sure of. Never has been, even to this day and age. And it's not like she's had many opportunities to ask them either. At a young age she was sent to a prestigious boarding school for girls in Edinburgh, to both heighten her education and to keep her somewhere while her parents were away from home working. And it is there that she has remained most of her life since then. Even when school is out, she usually goes to stay with her uncle, who lives in an apartment not too far from her school, and with whom she's built quite a strong connection with over the years. After finishing school at the age of 18 however, she didn't really know what to do with herself. She would go between the Highlands and Edinburgh, aimlessly inhabiting each of her homes while thinking of what she wanted to do with her life. Though she had done well at school, it felt like something was missing. It went on like this for a year until her uncle, noticing her rut and seeing the effect it was having on her, recommended a change of scenery for the girl. A breath of fresh air (metaphorically speaking) and an opportunity to see her future more clearly, whether that was university or immediately starting a career. And so now Nessie finds herself in London, the heart and the capital of England. And yet still, even with such a dramatic change in surroundings from where she was previously based, and with so many opportunities and paths right at her fingertips, the girl still feels as though she hasn't found what's right for her yet. Not only that, but since arriving in London she can't help but feel unusual. Strange flickers at the corner of her eye occasionally catch her attention, unexplainable shapes looming around her only to disappear as soon as she puts her full attention on them. Perhaps something there is something coming her way, a path she never could've expected... Grimoire • Title: The Loch Ness Monster • Classification: Legend • Description: One of the ultimate creatures of folk lore, the phenomenon of the Loch Ness Monster has its roots way back in the sixth century, though most of its notoriety bubbled up in the late 19th and 20th centuries. The illusive long-necked creature, described by some to be a sea serpent or dragon living deep within the waters of Loch Ness, has created ripples throughout history with its disputed existence, gradually being pulled more and more into the limelight of contention until becoming the staple of the paranormal that it is today. And so its legend is reflected in its equally illusive Grimoire. A story that, to this day and perhaps even far into the future, has not seen its end. • Abilities: The Undine - At will, Nessie is able to manipulate any water around her and bend it completely to her will. She can also summon water out of thin air if required, but that takes more energy and control to do, so don't expect her to be summoning reservoirs of water with no difficulty right off the bat. It'll take training to get anywhere close to that. Misty Waters - Like the monster itself, Nessie can disappear herself out of thin air. The only catch is that she may only remain invisible as long as she can hold her breath. There is a loophole to this ability however, as shown with the next one. The Loch's Blessing - These are more passive abilities than anything, but they can definitely come in handy, especially in a city that contains a massive river (looks at London). The Grimoire grants Nessie with incredibly swift swimming speed, making her look like a blur to anyone above the surface. On top of this she can also breathe, hear and see completely clearly when underwater, almost as if she were on normal ground. The final blessing is the loophole to her Misty Waters ability, which is that she can turn invisible for as long as she wishes when underwater, essentially ignoring its limitation. Of course, most battles would probably take place above water so this ability may not always be as useful as it sounds, but in the right situation, as well as clever usage, it can provide Nessie with an invaluable edge.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Bell (Magical Maiden Ethereal Rose) So, going by Valeria's pre-exercise speech, they'd all have to work together and perfectly coordinate their attacks if they wanted to defeat their opponent. It was certainly a good way to encourage teamwork, Olivia reflected, but she was a little unsure of how such a sizable number of girls could all hit one single spot simultaneously, especially on a foe that could fly. And speaking of… "Oh my goodness!" Olivia gushed, her eyes seeming to sparkle at the sight of the mechanical monstrosity Valeria had conjured. "How incredibly fascinating! I just love the drill it has for a stinger! And the claws on its hands look very menacing as well! You know, I almost feel bad about having to destroy it…" The blonde beauty was so enthralled by the sight of the insectoid war machine that she completely failed to hear their instructor note that she might be firing on them at various points of the exercise, not to mention her robot aid's little denial of liabilities… It was the sound of Suzuya's inquiring voice that ultimately broke Olivia out of her awestruck musings, and she turned to the fox-tailed maiden with a brilliant smile. "Oh, of course!" Olivia told her. "That's a wonderful idea, isn't it darling?!" "It is indeed, my sweet," Xolys agreed. "And it would be my great honor and pleasure to provide you with a suitable firing position, Miss Suzuya," the eldritch beast added as he lowered himself for ease of access, a series of steps and handholds forming themselves on his back. Upon ensuring Burning Heart was firmly secure, the Master of Xhar'doth would gently scoop up his azure-clad consort and charge toward their mechanical foe, a mighty beam of unreality charging in the center of his lamprey-like maw…</s> <\|message\|>Tesni Edris Title: Dynasty Queen Dynasty Queen "Am I supposed to go to this?" The slip of paper forced into her hand, drafting her into the mechanical gladiatorial arena for the girls who got back from patrol. Suppressing the sigh, Tesni hastily finished her ice-cream before drifting into the arena the new teacher had seemingly designed for the purpose of boring her, until the fun training dummy of the mechanical hornet materialised itself. Even as Valeria stood tall on the makeshift podium spouting off about what they all really needed, the most cursed and evil thing Tesni could imagine… teamwork. Not that she had anything against the concept, really. It's just that teamwork kinda relied on all parties involved performing at a somewhat equal level with synergistic powers of some description. And it's hard to synergise with the comparatively mundane and not very magical fighting style of 'hit things with a big stick'. She was about flow, forcing her flow into the battle, making the enemy fight at her pace and her pace tended to be a bit too impulsive for others to follow and adapt to. And most Pageless tended to stop if you smacked them hard enough in the right spot, regardless of how many people are there to do the hitting. Still… maybe she could still take hold of the flow of this battle, she'll just be generous and let it flow towards the others. "I'm not really sure if I'm meant to be here, but I have a ticket and I suppose I should at least try and be a better 'teammate'. Stupid tin can, hollow and noisy. Let me play with you for the sake of others, okay? 'The divine root conceives, its source revealed; Mind and nature nurtured, the Great Dao is born.'" A flash and she was once again in her battle attire, her golden staff stabbed into the ground next to her, it ringing out in a clear note. "Now since I'm unsure if me being here is 'cheating', but I was given an invitation so I suppose I might as well give some advice. Everyone should at least have a method for dealing with flying enemies. Either go up to their level…" Holding the upper end of her staff she had it lengthen, carrying her up until she was at 'eye level' with where the mechanical Pageless' eyes probably should be. "Or do what I prefer and… bring it down to your level where you can smash it!" She watched Bonnie launch herself at the flying bug, seemingly having intuited the same method she had in mind. C'mon Bonbon, spike it with me!" Tesni kicked her staff backwards out from under herself and swung it up and around in an overhead chop, aiming to bring her full strength down upon the Hornet to force it to the ground. "Fliers with wings tend to be weak to getting smashed from above!"</s>	<\|message\|>Nessie Burns The look that Valeria had given Nessie earlier during her assessment of the patrol teams had not gone over the girl's head, and though she wasn't sure what the exact nature of that look had been, being herself she'd taken it as a challenge to be prepared for the evening to come. And so, though she'd been intending to take a long break after the long patrol of the night before, after a couple of hours of napping the Scot rose with fire from her bed, an energy which she carried over once she reached the Training Facility. It seemed a slightly odd place to Nessie, filled with junk, scrap and debris, not exactly what you'd call well kept. From the central arena she could just about make out a few faces up in the viewing stalls, including Ozma and her trademark red hair, as well as a couple of others- both familiar and unfamiliar. The majority of those in the room were stood at her side however, various members from the two patrol groups. Almost everyone, if not everyone, had shown up it seemed. Mind you, given what she'd seen of Valeria earlier, she wouldn't want to be caught skiving off her class. With Valeria's arrival to address the students from on top of a scrap heap, it now quickly became clear why exactly they were gathered in what essentially seemed to be a glorified junkyard. There was surprise, wonderment and anticipation in Nessie's eyes as the stern yet odd German Magical Girl sculpted a foe with her powers, creating complicated mechanisms from the junk strewn about the chamber to create a large metal foe. A fusion between a hornet and some kind of bear towered over the group, a mechanical monster that seemed to mimic a Pageless in its nature and build. And, like with many activities Nessie had partaken in so far during her time in the world of Magical Girls, the key was teamwork. Once Valeria's explanation was over, as the walls of the scrapyard rose up to keep the battle as contained as possible, Nessie brought out her Grimoire, her uniform glowing before morphing into her witch attire. The Lady of the Lake was ready, and though the mention of explosive rounds added to the mix was a surprise for her, she at least had her broom to help with her mobility. And lucky she did as well, the metal Pageless' first attack coming fast right out of the gate, dirt and debris tossed hazardously around as the deadly drill bore its way towards the girls. "Shit!" The Scot exclaimed her surprise in the way that came most naturally to her, hastily hopping onto her broom before zipping off in the nick of time, swerving around to the mechanical beast's side. Separated from the others in the party as she was, Nessie was fairly confident she could pull this off with them, just so long as she paid attention to when they all were attacki- "Fuck, they're attacking!" Nessie's colourful language came out once again in a panicked spurt as she realised, a little late, that the rest of the group had already sent their attacks towards that vulnerable glowing core Valeria had referenced before. It was ok though, there was still time to send her own attack into the fray, especially with how quick her water spells usually travelled. Hurriedly she focussed her energy, pulling her hands back before forcefully thrusting them forward, and...! Nothing, well, barely anything. A small spurt that you might see from a dodgy garden hose spluttered out towards the junkyard amalgamation, pattering uselessly against its armoured shell. What Nessie hadn't realised nor taken into account was that, as opposed to the environment she'd been in only hours before during the storm, there was no water in the training facility she could use to aide or boost her attacks. Her fight with the wraith Pageless had made her cocky; if she wanted to produce anything close to as powerful as she'd conjured up then, she'd need time and focus. "You have got to be taking the pi-" For now though, all she was getting was a sharp impact with the large pile of scrap Valeria had used as a standing podium, her lack of attention to her surroundings after her surprisingly disappointing display coming back to whack her across the face, quite literally. Her broom flung to the side, a small bruised lump quickly began to form on Nessie's forehead after she'd acquainted herself with a now slightly dented steel bar, leaving her temporarily vulnerable to attack. "Uh, guys, I need a wee bit of help!" Nessie scrambled nervously in place, afraid to move in case she fell off the scrapheap, but afraid to stand still like a sitting duck for the mechanical beast to take its drill to.</s>
<\|description\|>Nessie Burns Age: 19 Nationality: Scottish Appearance: Description: A fairly rambunctious and stubborn girl, Nessie isn't dissimilar to your average Scotsman. She can display quite a tough and, at times, even rude and imposing exterior when in the company of strangers. Around friends she is brash, cheeky and can be quite loud, frequently poking fun at those she surrounds herself with. Equally, though, she also enjoys her own company, her favourite passtime being sitting by or swimming in a lake, especially one surrounded by beautiful scenery. Definitely the outdoors type. She loves a good drink though, and will never say no to having a pint in a nice pub. Biography: Born in the Scottish Highlands, Nessie comes from a fairly wealthy background, her childhood home a rural manor house within an idyllic setting. Mountains, hills, woodland and lakes as far as the eye can see. The perfect place for an adventurous young girl like her, and still it remains her favourite place. Her parents work in... well, that she's not really sure of. Never has been, even to this day and age. And it's not like she's had many opportunities to ask them either. At a young age she was sent to a prestigious boarding school for girls in Edinburgh, to both heighten her education and to keep her somewhere while her parents were away from home working. And it is there that she has remained most of her life since then. Even when school is out, she usually goes to stay with her uncle, who lives in an apartment not too far from her school, and with whom she's built quite a strong connection with over the years. After finishing school at the age of 18 however, she didn't really know what to do with herself. She would go between the Highlands and Edinburgh, aimlessly inhabiting each of her homes while thinking of what she wanted to do with her life. Though she had done well at school, it felt like something was missing. It went on like this for a year until her uncle, noticing her rut and seeing the effect it was having on her, recommended a change of scenery for the girl. A breath of fresh air (metaphorically speaking) and an opportunity to see her future more clearly, whether that was university or immediately starting a career. And so now Nessie finds herself in London, the heart and the capital of England. And yet still, even with such a dramatic change in surroundings from where she was previously based, and with so many opportunities and paths right at her fingertips, the girl still feels as though she hasn't found what's right for her yet. Not only that, but since arriving in London she can't help but feel unusual. Strange flickers at the corner of her eye occasionally catch her attention, unexplainable shapes looming around her only to disappear as soon as she puts her full attention on them. Perhaps something there is something coming her way, a path she never could've expected... Grimoire • Title: The Loch Ness Monster • Classification: Legend • Description: One of the ultimate creatures of folk lore, the phenomenon of the Loch Ness Monster has its roots way back in the sixth century, though most of its notoriety bubbled up in the late 19th and 20th centuries. The illusive long-necked creature, described by some to be a sea serpent or dragon living deep within the waters of Loch Ness, has created ripples throughout history with its disputed existence, gradually being pulled more and more into the limelight of contention until becoming the staple of the paranormal that it is today. And so its legend is reflected in its equally illusive Grimoire. A story that, to this day and perhaps even far into the future, has not seen its end. • Abilities: The Undine - At will, Nessie is able to manipulate any water around her and bend it completely to her will. She can also summon water out of thin air if required, but that takes more energy and control to do, so don't expect her to be summoning reservoirs of water with no difficulty right off the bat. It'll take training to get anywhere close to that. Misty Waters - Like the monster itself, Nessie can disappear herself out of thin air. The only catch is that she may only remain invisible as long as she can hold her breath. There is a loophole to this ability however, as shown with the next one. The Loch's Blessing - These are more passive abilities than anything, but they can definitely come in handy, especially in a city that contains a massive river (looks at London). The Grimoire grants Nessie with incredibly swift swimming speed, making her look like a blur to anyone above the surface. On top of this she can also breathe, hear and see completely clearly when underwater, almost as if she were on normal ground. The final blessing is the loophole to her Misty Waters ability, which is that she can turn invisible for as long as she wishes when underwater, essentially ignoring its limitation. Of course, most battles would probably take place above water so this ability may not always be as useful as it sounds, but in the right situation, as well as clever usage, it can provide Nessie with an invaluable edge.</s> <\|message\|>Celina Kennedy, Lupin Lupin chuckled at Olivia's reaction. Though as they talked, it appeared a small crowd had gathered around the new girl. Man, animal eared magicals really must be a rarity around here. Regardless, she did her best to keep up with them. The beauty had asked her another few questions. But before she could answer, the wolf girl felt an arm wrap around her waist and carry her off. Okay. This was happening, she guessed. Blinking, she waved fairwell-for-now to Olivia, then turned her head to her apathetic snatcher who introduced herself as Silvia. Guess Celina didn't have to worry about finding a partner after all. When asked if she would rather walk to the library after a moment, she simply shrugged. "I can walk." Days passed as Lupin gradually got settled into her new school life. She got assigned the same classes as other new students, even Olivia surprisingly! Dorming arrangements she didn't mind what they'd settle with, but it'd take a bit to decorate her side and such, what with her spending a good bulk of her time training with Stripes. Something she learned quick was that despite the group as a whole working as a team, the tabby's power sorta goes against that. A "Less is more" type of deal. Luckily, Silvia and her worked well despite the drawback. Few words were spoken between them, mostly from Celina wanting to get to know her new teammate. Then soon enough, Lupin was going off on her first patrol with Marrywell's finest. She walked up next to Stripes, tucking her ears back under her hood and quietly nodding to the others. Ozma turned out to be the one leading, her and Maria giving out similar speeches. Admittedly, she wasn't paying much attention to that. She did get the gist though, be careful, work together, that sort of thing. Silvia and Suzuya talked a bit about Pizza for some reason. A post-op lunch did sound good to the wolf, if the flesh of Pageless wasn't enough to satiate this time. Then the former told her they should split up from the main group if anything crops up. Lupin nodded, idly twirling one of her knives in her hand. "Bullet hell, got it. Ready when you are." With a flick of the wrist, the single knife seemingly divided into three, resting inbetween her fingers.</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance LILAC SHIMMER Lilac stared at Tesni. The kind of staring that meant it was pretty clear she wasn't getting all of this, but she was trying really hard and didn't want to mess up. "So, um.. If I...." Lilac took a moment to try and process, her face visibly focusing. "You can only be so strong alone so you're learning to ask for not-help?" Lilac, it seemed, chose an unusual way to parse the situation, and dance around Tesni's offering/not receiving hang-up. She was hesitant at first, but grew in confidence as she got the ball rolling. "In that case, I'm truly flattered you'd consider someone like me someone you could ask for not-help! At your call, what drink would you like?" Clutching hand to heart, she took a bow to offer her service. But apparently she thought she was helping with getting a drink? "I will admit, I'm looking forward to the team up thing now that I'm over the bee fight. Everyone's gonna come up with so much cool stuff to see!" Lilac definitely seemed on board with the idea, a bounce in her step not only from the springs.</s>	<\|message\|>Nessie Burns The days following the training exercise had been strange for Nessie. Not that anything in the world of Marrywell was exactly normal to the young Magical Girl just yet, but even within that context things felt off. No doubt it was connected to her failure to protect herself and assist her friends against the faux-Pageless Valeria had set the whole group up against. She didn't understand. She'd done it before, harnessed her grimoire's energy and inflict attacks of incredible scale and power upon her foes. So why not then? This was what she spent the following hours and days contemplating; as her classmates began to understand their grimoire's better and trained to increase their capabilities, Nessie was stuck in limbo as her perceived understanding on her own grimoire slipped further and further away and her ability remained stagnant. Her free time and time in classes became consumed by her considerations, her mind in a totally different place than those around her as she dug to find an answer. In reality, the reason had simply been that at the time there had been no water around to help enhance her attacks, but in her overthinking and desperation she'd removed herself even further from the powers of her grimoire. So caught up in her own thoughts was Nessie, that the redhead barely even took notice of the new faces in the group as they gathered outside Marrywell's entrance at the behest of Ozma and the other staff members who had supervised them as of late. She didn't even approach Stripes, her previous saviour and the very person who had guided her to her grimoire in the first place. Her usual fiery nature was gone and it was clear to anyone that looked her way that she wasn't entirely present, a somewhat numb expression on her face. She kept to herself, with no real group to speak of given her lack of communication with even her closer friends in the time since the exercise. The young Scot appeared unemotive towards the instructions given to them by their teachers, simply conjuring her broom as they were told and mounting it in complete silence, save for a deep, sighing exhale. She wasn't thrilled at the prospect of a patrol at the moment, especially if she couldn't even do anything against any Pageless that might show themselves. "Fuck's sake..." She muttered coldly to herself, before kicking off the ground sharply to follow along Ozma's lead with everyone else. It was time to return to London.</s>
<\|description\|>Self explanatory. CHARACTER SHEET Age: Self explanatory. Nationality: Marrywell Academy is a global school and front for the Grand Ministry, welcoming Magical Girls from all corners of the world. Where do you hail from? Appearance: Self explanatory, both for transformed states and regular clothes. Description: A brief description of your character. This can include bits of personality, backstory, likes and dislikes, etc. Above all else, describe how they became a Magical Girl and their thoughts on the Grand Ministry. Grimoire: Every Magical Girl begins her story with one unique Grimoire, a mystical story book that somehow found its way into her possession. • Title: One defining trait of all Grimoires is that they are copies of fairytales and other stories of our world. They are similar enough that you can use them as the basis for the naming and powers granted by the books. • Classification: Under the Grand Ministry's ranks for all Magical Girls, what classification does your Grimoire fall under. This determines the level of your power, rank, and experience among other Magical Girls. • Description: A brief description of the contents of your Grimoire regarding the tale it embodies. • Abilities: What kind of powers, weapons, gear, etc does the Grimoire grant to your character? Misc: Trivia, theme songs, or anything else not covered above should go here.</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance LILAC SHIMMER Lilac had pulled herself back a little as attack after attack poured into the great Pageless. Wielding a melee weapon and not exactly knowing everyone's plans, it would make an ill-end to get splashed by someone aiming a grand attack at the Pageless, of which there were many. Aha, and there was even a new magical girl? She'd be the right person for the job. Or, wow, look at that thing-... what even was that, um, well, look at it go. Uh, good job...? Lilac took another half step back, quite happy she hadn't remained in melee. And then she felt Goodhope's power pour into herself again. Wait, what should she do? She glanced left and right. She didn't want to go anywhere near the foe right now! She didn't have any ranged attacks. Should she throw a rock? Oh god, Captain Goodhope was giving it all and she was just standing there doing nothing! "NYAAGH!" Lilac panicked, and gave a strangled cry as she lobbed Joyeuse at the enemy, feeling she had to do something at least. Even with Captain Goodhope's buff, thanks to Lilac's mental state and the fact that Joyeuse was not a ranged weapon, it smacked into the side of the Pageless to... moderate effect. At least it was a punctuating element to Wilhemina's own volley of ranged firepower. And, now there was a magical sword sticking to the side of the Pageless, if that was helpful to anyone. For a few moments, Lilac stayed frozen in her post-throwing pose, arms outstretched, as her brain worked overtime. ~How do I make that look like I did it on purpose?~</s> <\|message\|>Nessie Burns Nessie, in all her good humour, burst into a fit of laughter as she saw the state of her opponent, crumpled back with a leg lost to one of her new acquaintances. It was a boisterous hooting, perhaps to be expected of a loud Scottish girl like herself, one of those wheezing laughs that was difficult not to at least crack a smile at with how contagious it was. In fact, the redheaded witch only descended further into roaring and guffawing when the wounded Pageless, now with only one limb to stand on, sprung back up with fury in its deeply angered crimson eyes. It began charging with reckless abandon towards her, the intent to kill and destroy the newly awakened Magical Girl trickled heavily into the air it shot through, its hateful aura darkening the atmosphere. At a certain point, Nessie manged to compose herself though, belly laughter simmering down to no more than a smirk on the girl's face. A soothing hand placed on her shoulder helped her with that, and indeed with calming any nerves she might have been feeling and disguising. Not only that however, but there was something else. Almost immediately, she began to feel lighter atop the ground, her legs springier and her body just... buzzing, somehow. Like an influx of energy and warmth passed onto her through that soft palm laid on her, power granted from one Magical Girl to another. Needless to say, it spurred Nessie on. She turned around briefly, offering a quick but genuine smile to the angelic figure behind her. She didn't really know her yet, nor any of the other girls who she'd seen fighting and helping her, but she assured herself that she'd thank them properly once this whole mess was over. And then there'd probably be more than a few questions to follow. "Thanks!" But for now, a brief show of appreciation was all she really had time for, the very real threat of the raging Pageless getting closer and closer with increasing speed. She went to meet that threat head-on, hopping on top of her broomstick and balancing on it with surprising ease. A new kind of instinct had awakened within her, shown as clearly as the light of the stars reflected by her outfit. And towards those stars she went, shooting up in the air to match the tremendous speed of her main target, and also to meet its eyeline. Soon she was high up above the ground, her face the very picture of snark and determination. "Right you! I don't know what I'm doing with my life, but it sure as bloody hell won't end here with you! Y'understa- oh shit-" Instinct doesn't always come with the skill to wield, however. It was almost funny how ironic it was: one of Nessie's legs completely slipping off of the broomstick, towards the end of her confident proclamation. The Pageless could maybe take some solace in knowing that it wasn't the only one on the battlefield that day to lose its balance, but it would be the only one to fall. Quick reflexes, no doubt helped in some part by that boost in abilities she'd received only a minute or two before, granted the girl a second chance, a hand snapping onto the broom to leave her dangling off it. It wasn't the best time to be this precariously positioned, but the strength of her grip made one thing clear- she wasn't going to let go. "I'm not dying here..." Nessie muttered, her words meant for herself, more than a direct defiance of the impending dooms that could have befallen her. Her face dropped gradually, relaxing into a solemn expression as she closed her eyes. More indistinct muttering followed, the words lost even to her own ears, but that didn't matter as such. It was the thought of them that counted. Her free arm was raised up towards the oncoming monster, gesturing, aiming, homing in on it. A rumble. There was a shimmer in the air as Nessie concentrated more, wincing to channel that borrowed extension of her current power to its absolute maximum. Another rumble. A more obvious shimmer, like the air itself was shaking. Something was coming. There was a moment of utter silence on the battlefield. For everyone, except Nessie. Her eyes opened slightly as another fleeting presence was felt for a moment. Indicated only by a red blur flashing past her vision as she regained her sight. An attack? A new friend or foe? As if on cue to interrupt those questioning thoughts that immediately came to her mind, she felt a light pat on her back. Barely enough to sway her forwards, but with a warm touch that felt very real to the redhead. "Do your best." The words came gently, softly whispered into her ear, as lingering as briefly as the blur that had caught her eye only seconds before. There was something special about those words, and whoever was saying them to her. Something that spurred her on in a way no power-up ever could. Something to dwell on later, but for now, the message was clear. She'd do her best. All of a sudden, an eruption of noise gave way to a torrent of water materialising from Nessie's outstretched palm. Like a dragon hungry for its prey it burst on forward, growing in both scale and pressure until it dwarfed its caster, rivalling the size of the Pageless just ahead. The water spiralled and twisted, the sound of it clashing with itself comparable to the growl of a great beast. It was almost like the water itself was alive. The unyielding, torrential pressure of the water cyclone ripped right through its target, a huge chunk of the dark creature, including its head and lower body, engulfed by the oncoming storm. A storm that tore and mauled its target for all it was worth, showing no mercy while Nessie kept her hand raised. Until it was enough. As Nessie lowered her arm, her concentration and energy spent, the crashing of waves against the mechanical Pageless ceased. It had probably been killed by the first few impacts, there was no need to drag this out longer. And so the storm passed, the water clearing away into the air past its fallen foe, dissipating away, until only a few stray droplets floating along mindlessly in the sky were evidence that it had ever been there at all.</s>	<\|message\|>Self explanatory. There was too much going on, too much for the Pageless to react to; such was the true strength of Magical Girls. It was not by one fell blow but many decisive ones in unity that led to the Pageless' destruction. Indeed, so rapid were the attacks that it barely had time to react to Nessie's splurge of magical force, let alone prepare itself to counter. With one sword, holy and divine sticking out of its body and another, albeit less flashy, embedded in the other side, the Pageless rocked to and fro with near-comedic distortions and proportions. It wasn't helped that its massive, mechanical body was pelted with musket fire and eldritch beams alike. Its rage and its hatred bellowed out into the dying embers of the night, just as dawn began to peak over the horizon. But that too was smothered out, drowned by the literal force of Nessie's newfound power. The first hit tore a hole clean through the Pageless' body, the sheer force and pressure of the water ripping through as if the nightmarish creature was little more than tissue paper. Lilac Shimmer's sword flew right out of its body from the sudden impact. The next hits tore it asunder completely and its own dark essence mitigated with the air, joining the dissolving water that was Nessie's magic. What was left of the monster collapsed, its form dissolving back to the shadows of stories where it once came. The Pageless failed once again, for now. A new story was borne into the world and the darkness receded away once more. Even the once hostage civilians were rescued, long since deposited just outside the work site. The Magical Girls could see the Pageless' curses lose their effect on them and each one shook their heads as if spurned from a bad dream. However, their safety and movement out of harm's way of the battle wouldn't be by their hands, at least by no Magical Girl currently among them. Miracles came in small doses indeed. It would only take some magic to return the construction site back to normal, erasing all evidence and trace that a fight of light and darkness once took place on its grounds. A spell wouldn't be needed to keep the civilians ignorant of their true peril, not when all of them grumbled about bad hangovers and groggily wasting the night away just to walk to work now. Once all introductions and formalities were taken care of, there of course came the course of Ministry work. With the mission successful, each and every one of them were expected to return to Marrywell Academy not only to report their mission briefings, but to also embrace some well-deserved rest in their dorms. The most prevalent issue at hand lay in Nessie herself. Life as she knew it was gone forever, replaced only by the Grand Ministry and the world of Magical Girls. By the time they'd reach Marrywell Academy, the sun was already shining up high and above to greet a new morning. </s>
<\|description\|>Self explanatory. CHARACTER SHEET Age: Self explanatory. Nationality: Marrywell Academy is a global school and front for the Grand Ministry, welcoming Magical Girls from all corners of the world. Where do you hail from? Appearance: Self explanatory, both for transformed states and regular clothes. Description: A brief description of your character. This can include bits of personality, backstory, likes and dislikes, etc. Above all else, describe how they became a Magical Girl and their thoughts on the Grand Ministry. Grimoire: Every Magical Girl begins her story with one unique Grimoire, a mystical story book that somehow found its way into her possession. • Title: One defining trait of all Grimoires is that they are copies of fairytales and other stories of our world. They are similar enough that you can use them as the basis for the naming and powers granted by the books. • Classification: Under the Grand Ministry's ranks for all Magical Girls, what classification does your Grimoire fall under. This determines the level of your power, rank, and experience among other Magical Girls. • Description: A brief description of the contents of your Grimoire regarding the tale it embodies. • Abilities: What kind of powers, weapons, gear, etc does the Grimoire grant to your character? Misc: Trivia, theme songs, or anything else not covered above should go here.</s> <\|message\|>María de Borbón @TheWendil@Majoras End Maria had failed to notice the amassing group of students that came to watch the training and only really took note of them when Charlotte caught their attention. "You really are that known, are you not, Charlotte? That is quite formidable." Maria said, answering her companion's question with a smile - the first honest smile since she walked to the girls' side. Maria followed that by ignoring Charlotte's comment about needing girls like her. She, of course, disagreed. Maria felt like her presence was a potential risk to everyone around her...but that train of thoughts was redundant. She felt there was no need to bring it up out loud and, anyway, had a creeping suspicion that Charlotte might already know how Maria felt inside. She followed Charlotte away from the crowd, remaining silent at first. She had briefly heard of what had happened but only in whispers. Charlotte, if she was to be believed of course, confirmed it. Of course the Ministry would keep such dangerous news hidden from them. Maria sighed, looking down. News of a rogue magical girl was bad enough - and in a way terrifying - and they wanted her mixed in all of it? It was as if the Ministry twisted her fears on purpose in the worst ways possible. "I am afraid you might be right." she answered the the red head's last bit about getting used to her designed role and finding a teammate. "It cannot be avoided. I just hope that they will accept my presence. Very well then, Miss Clementine. I thank you for your time and wish you well." Maria politely bowed her farewell to Ozma and made her way down to the arena, arriving shortly after the blonde haired girl, Celina. Maria would also walk closer and give the same polite bow she gave Charlotte just moments earlier - an act of etiquette clearly betraying her real age. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Miss Lupin." she began by answering the newcomer. "My name is Maria de Borbón. It's a pleasure to meet all of you, truly. I had the pleasure of watching the end of your previous training exercise and was... impressed." Maria deemed unnecessary to mention out loud why she was sent here just yet. She did not know how the group would react to that, and did not wish to pass as pompous or pretentious. She then walked closer towards Valeria, who was in her conjured vehicle still. "Greetings, Miss Weizenbaum. Could I possibly have a word with you if possible?"</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance LILAC SHIMMER Bonnie took some time to regain her footing on the ground and steady out, be which time Nessie had already moved on. "Eh? That's it?" She stared in confusion at the mecha monstrosity's ease of disintegration. "I guess that was like, four of us attacking at the same time? I thought it was supposed to be all of us." Then came Valeria's assessment, and Lilac's brow furrowed. "That's not how this is supposed to work. It's supposed to not work the first time, and then the failure teaches us to do all the stuff you're talking bout now, right? This would make a terrible story moral! Don't do the stuff that worked fine?" One of the few things that seemed able to get Lilac worked up was when the magical girl stuff wasn't working out like it was 'supposed' to. "Unless like, this is the moment of hubris and a giant super Pageless only defeatable by teamwork shows up later?" She paused for a moment, and then bounced up to the edge of the arena and peered over it to double check, just in case. Glancing back and forth, she was not quick to find any giant Pageless sneaking up on the school. Lilac crossed her arms, a little upset at another team thing so soon after the other one... "I suppose team names and attacks are fun..." Lilac begrudgingly admitted, and finally lightened up a bit again, now starting to feel a little silly over being upset. Hopefully no one had been paying attention to her since she hadn't been talking to anyone in particular. As Lilac started looking around again, she noticed a couple of new faces... since when did they have a cute doggo girl? Was she someone's familiar like Rose's friend or a magical girl? Eh, either way, Lilac decided to wave to the newcomers, before thinking more about partners. It seemed like while she was focusing on other things, Lilac missed the talk about becoming closer to one's Grimoire, but, just as well, it seemed quite a few people were following that path already. Oddly enough it was Tesni who caught Lilac's ear. Huh, Tesni seemed to make a little sense, wait what was that about weakness? Why would someone want to be weak? Lilac didn't seem to get that. She decided to walk closer, her earlier hesitance forgotten in curiousity, and perhaps a spirit of camaraderie over unsatisfaction with the battle. "Um, I'm not sure I get that. Are you saying like, being the strongest would be boring because you don't have room to improve?" Lilac tried explaining what she thought Tesni said as a way to hopefully get correction on what Tesni meant.</s> <\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Suzuya Kuzunoha The lessons were concluded for the night, or so Burning Heart believed, her attention pulled from peers and students to find what should have been a lesson was more a spectator sport. How embarrasing would it have been had they failed miserably with so many seniors and peers watching over them? The vulpine Magical Girl shuddered and chose to hop off of Xolys shoulder as more new faces came from stand and shadow alike to either introduce themselves or peruse them like one does a merchant's wares. With a slow blink, Burning Heart stopped, reconsidering that maybe her sour impressions of, well, the entire landmass of England and all therein, was making her a touch paranoid. Her transformation unfurled around her, a swirl of flame the rose dispersed on the wind to leave skittish, old Suzuya in her place. In Xolys shadow. Her heart slammed into her throat and she nearly bit her tongue stiffling the imminent urge to shriek. But...she knew he wasn't slimy. That counted for a lot, even without her Grimoire girding her will actively, and she tentatively reached her hand out. Just a pat, light and brief as though expecting to bitten, before withdrawing to her side. She'd touched him, and he was most definetly dry! The blonde perked up, imaginary ears wiggling atop her head before she remembered she wasn't a fox at the moment- Err, at all! "I think I can sleep without transforming tonight..." She murmured, hands curling under her chin as pulled her sweater to hide the excited flush of her cheeks and the giddy pull to her lips. There was a pleased warmth coming from her Grimoire, and she wondered if she actually needed a tuner to get in touch with it.</s> <\|message\|>Valeria Weizenbaum Valeria's lessons were not clicking like she wanted them to. She had hoped to be the cool teacher that let the students do the fun stuff the more conservative staff would not allow, but things were not so easy. Perhaps she wouldn't be a natural fit for this role as she had thought but she quickly cast those doubts aside. "Oh I wanted to go easy on ze kinder. Now I am regretting my choices. They performed very well! No problems on the surface." Valeria greeted Ozma with a wave and her trademark enthusiasm. She'd clap her metal hands together and return her attention to her protesting students. Suzuya's glare did not go unnoticed, and Valeria was tempted to respond back by sticking her tongue at her. She'd have to remind herself she's supposed to be a good role model and Ozma was counting on her. Instead, she'd take all three girls together in a tight group hug enforced by her steely metal arms, bringing them all together. Probably not much more mature, but Valeria was a hugger. "Listen. My comments were not meant to be so harsh! You destroyed that hulking beast in a single maneuver, very impressive and your power is in no doubt! But the Ministry does not like lone wolves, I learned that the hard way." She'd pause a bit, recalling very specific memories. "It is not about who is strongest or who is weakest, Lilac and Tensi. I thought that way myself once! I am a big angry German war machine, and I can summon anything I want at my disposal! Why would I ever want to work with a team, they'd get in my way! I thought that way for a long time...and then one day my arm was nearly destroyed in the middle of a battle against a Pageless. Ozma actually saved my life there, with her grimoire. Our stories make us strong but stories are not told alone, they are shared in a group. That is what I've learned. To value what the stories of others can bring to you, and they can make the grimoires you carry even stronger." Valeria blinked after she finished speaking, shocked to hear herself open up so much. She's left wondering if she was spouting complete bullshit or very insightful teacher commentary. She'd let everyone else be the judge of that. She'd release the students and give them a wave goodbye. "But either way, don't hide your feelings. I appreciate the honesty from you all. Now if you'll excuse me I think I am being called away..." Maria finally arrived, and summoned Valeria away from her students. She'd give her farewells and last minute commendations before observing the lovely new lady. Drossel had her items to offer to the class and she did not want to get in the way of her. Always had to help a fellow German. "Don't call me Miss! Val or Valeria is fine! What do you require of me? I don't think you plan to become my student too, ja?"</s>	<\|message\|>Self explanatory. It sounded like the students were wrapping up their night class. Charlotte kept one ear on the arena and one on Maria and the newly introduced Celina. It wouldn't be long before everyone was dismissed back to their dorms for the night but for now, they had a minute or two to lounge about. After all, the only consequence was, of course, being late to their morning classes. Charlotte turned her full attention on Celina even as she gave Maria a nod and farewell wave. It was like night and day seeing the two girls beside each other, if only momentarily before Maria left to bother Valeria. The difference in their magic, the difference in their experience; it was like a contrasted conduction of energy between Maria and Celina. Soon enough Charlotte's instincts were confirmed when the blonde introduced herself as a new student. Somewhere in her head the redhead wondered if Celina assumed she was a teacher. Or maybe the Grand Minister set the new girl up to approach her? It was all coincidence and, frankly, doubtful. But one could never be too sure in a school where the dean predicted all possibilities. She was just about to welcome Celina as the new student she was before a rush of magic plumed in front of her. Gone was the blonde, now replaced with a stark red hood and wolven ears that could only mean she held the Little Red Riding Hood Grimoire. Charlotte's expression paused for a good moment before her eyes twinkled and smile widened. "Oh wow you're…so….cute!!!" The Crimson Comet was mere inches away from the new girl in a matter of moments, gaze sparkling as she looked up and down the wolf girl's transformation. "We haven't had a student with that kind of Grimoire yet! Your ears look so fluffy too! Can I pet em? I'm gonna pet em," the Brit said with confidence that would not be shaken. She did just that, marveling at how soft Lupin's ears were with gentle pats, the gray tufts just peeking out from under her hood. "So cool, so cuuuuute….oh, uh, welcome to Marrywell too. I'm, uh, not actually part of the staff so…." Charlotte unconsciously kept patting even as she said, "I can point you to a teacher but your schedule should be in your dorm by the time ya get there." </s>
<\|description\|>Self explanatory. CHARACTER SHEET Age: Self explanatory. Nationality: Marrywell Academy is a global school and front for the Grand Ministry, welcoming Magical Girls from all corners of the world. Where do you hail from? Appearance: Self explanatory, both for transformed states and regular clothes. Description: A brief description of your character. This can include bits of personality, backstory, likes and dislikes, etc. Above all else, describe how they became a Magical Girl and their thoughts on the Grand Ministry. Grimoire: Every Magical Girl begins her story with one unique Grimoire, a mystical story book that somehow found its way into her possession. • Title: One defining trait of all Grimoires is that they are copies of fairytales and other stories of our world. They are similar enough that you can use them as the basis for the naming and powers granted by the books. • Classification: Under the Grand Ministry's ranks for all Magical Girls, what classification does your Grimoire fall under. This determines the level of your power, rank, and experience among other Magical Girls. • Description: A brief description of the contents of your Grimoire regarding the tale it embodies. • Abilities: What kind of powers, weapons, gear, etc does the Grimoire grant to your character? Misc: Trivia, theme songs, or anything else not covered above should go here.</s> <\|message\|>Tesni Edris Title: Dynasty Queen Tesni She hadn't anticipated being among the first guests to arrive, escorted by the host no less, and Tesni did raise an eyebrow when Bonnie offered her arm but she wasn't so dense as to not take the host up on their offer. "Off we go then to the mysterious music room then." Linking arms with Bonnie they meandered their way towards the room when Bonnie stopped and Tesni not wanting to pull her arm off followed suit as Bonnie offered a confused explanation. "You know what, Bon Bon? I think I believe you that this castle that's kiiinda hard to miss wasn't here yesterday. Shocking as this may sound, we do go to this school, and I think if a castle had been here all this time I'd hope one of us would have heard of it by now… also we have magical abilities derived from works of literature and historical epics so I don't find it all that surprising that rumours could also take on a life of their own like this." Pausing for a bit, looking through the threshold to the new castle interior Tesni clicked her tongue in thought. "I wonder if spreading rumours can make other stuff happen too…" Admiring the architecture of the castle Tesni tapped her foot on the ground as if testing it still somewhat in disbelief that it was even there. It feels weird that I'm able to accept so much now with 'whatever, it's magic'. I could probably use my detect evil vision thing to see if there's anything nefarious behind all this… but that feels like picking up a book and just reading the last chapter. Pretty rude, especially since if it's not actually magic someone went to a lot of effort for this. Letting Bonnie and Olivia acquaint themselves as the prospective leaders of this sleepover before silently joining in with Bonnie's amazement at the swimming pool before tearing her gaze away. "Hiya Liv, hiya Silvy. I feel like the collective we haven't talked much lately, good to see you both though. No, I don't count talks on the battlefield as having a nice chat, thanks for asking Silvy." Shooting Silvia an impish wink she briefly turned her attention to Olivia and Bonnie more fully. "Unlike Bonnie I haven't brought anything except myself, never quite sure what to bring to these things. I was too busy being a rascally little schemer before this magical business to go to these things." Cracking her neck with a loud pop Tesni let out a sigh. "So, who are we waiting on? I only got an invitation, not a guest… list…?" Raising an eyebrow she heard the kingly voice grating her ears before seeing the silhouette in the doorway… and she just couldn't resist getting a little dig in at Chinami. "Whaaat? You mean this isn't a mystical summoning of castle Camelot during a time of great peril? Do you want to go looking for a throne to sit on, Chinami~?" chuckling to herself, Tesni looked over to Bonnie with an apologetic smile. "I know, I know, I'm sorry Bon bon, I know it's not a great way to kick off festivities but c'mon! We have a castle and a knight, it's too perfect~!"</s> <\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Suzuya Kuzunoha Like Olivia, Suzuya had opted to come in her transformed state, and for once it wasn't for the mental girding she was so reliant upon to keep herself from crushed by the heaps of misery in jolly old England. No, it was the simple fact that nine fluffy, self warming tails were very comfortable to sleep with. Especially once she got her pajamas magically refit with a tail hole and cover flap. Coming up behind Xolys' shrouded bulk had her arriving somewhat seperate from her roommate due to not wanting to step on the occasional tendril trailing behind the bedsheet, though with someone as dazzling as Olivia it was easy to go undetected in her more contemporary flannel. The irony of the fair lady dressing in eastern sleep wear wasn't lost and roused a soft smile as Suzuya entered to find a castle in place of a music room. "Eh, I've seen bigger and in far worse condition. Needs more fire and splintered wood." Suzuya slipped in and out of her Grimoire's influence, letting the surprise roll off her back like water upon a mallard as she walked in to see the group was fairly split between introverts and extroverts, with someone Suzuya had hoped not to see again asking pointed questions that Tesni was deflecting lest they sour the fun. "Chinami, we can't exclude people if they want to join the sleepover. So long as they aren't disruptive, this is school property and open to whatever student wishes to join. It's not like we made a club for late night ghost stories and naps." The foxy Magical Girl dismissively waved her hand side to side, putting the concerns aside when there were others eager to have fun. She'd heard Bonnie mention her as she was stuck behind Xolys and quirked her head in a manner that had her ears bounce and twitch. "You still wanna explore? I can bring the mood lighting." And she meant that literally, as she reached into her tail and pulled out an old fashioned torch, the smell of pitch and crackle of flame blooming into existence before her as she held the gnarled wood between them. "And before you ask, no, you can't burn down the school. I'd have thought it was obvious that I can snuff out my flames on command, but some didn't seem to notice that."</s>	<\|message\|>Self explanatory. Valeria's grand display wouldn't go unnoticed. As was expected, several school staff and older Magical Girls took account of the sudden extra building extending out from the ground's usual castle structure. Only, unlike the main buildings, this architect was darker and wafting with haunted flare. If the moats and spooky interior wasn't a clue for the décor, then the aesthetic fog wafting from the castle's open drawbridge like the noxious breath of a monster most foul certainly was. And the students clamored around its entrance dressed in assortment. Some older staff only shrugged the appearance of a new castle, either too used to the abnormal activity around Marrywell or assuming it was a renovation plan. After all, additional fortification for the school after a recent attack was expected. Others of course, had to be quelled swiftly by the Crimson Comet, who assured them there was nothing wrong with the students needing a relaxation period after Roma's incident. Indeed, several other little get togethers hobbled the school grounds though most kept their gatherings secluded to their dorm rooms. None were as extravagant as Valeria's great castle. What mattered most was the Grand Minister did nothing to stop either the building of such an elaborate party room or the party itself. Charlotte had a suspicion their leader would wave away justifications as simply more fortification for the school when they were done because that was exactly the excuse the redhead came up with just in case. When all was said and done, a small crowd hovered between the usual school grounds and Valeria's castle. "Hey that's a good point Tesni. You get a gold star!" came Charlotte's voice behind the group. "Rumors and superstition may as well be real in the magical world we deal in. A castle sprouting in the middle of the night seems about as convenient to me as anything else around here," she said with a wink towards Olivia. "What do you know, I just so happened to be dressed for the occasion." The Crimson Comet sided herself beside Chinami, expression as bright as usual. "Long time no see there. Looks like we had the same idea for costumes huh? Well, since Suzuya's correct that this is open school grounds, I don't think anyone would mind me tagging along right? Not like I'm gonna rat you out anyway. Who do you think I am, a teacher?" Charlotte waved her arms in dramatic fashion, painting wide circles in the air as if to emulate one of the staff. When she was finished, she directed the students towards their open castle with another arm sweep, keeping beside Chinami. "After you of course. Never thought your first appearance back would be at a sleepover. Maybe you really are a Magical Girl after all Chinami~" Inside lay the grand room whose doors led to spiraling mazes and dungeons with too-realistic looking skeletons dangling from the walls. Of course, for those of the simpler crowd, the staircase led to their bedrooms for the night as well. Charlotte herself spied a couch near the fireplace as if silently calling dibs on it. </s>
<\|description\|>Valeria Weizenbaum Magical Girl Name: Waffenhändler Age: Appears 20 Nationality: Germany Appearance: Description: A feisty and wild girl from Bavaria who has been an occasional ally of the Grand Ministry in recent years. She is fiercely independent and prefers to keep her own path, driving the world in her mystical van to collect trinkets, talismans, and most importantly to her, metal junk to smith guns and prosthetics. She proudly immerses herself in punk culture from her homeland and never plays well with authorities. Her and Ozma go way back, and she was one of the first magical girls to work with her. She offers her services to the Grand Ministry these days as a vendor and sometimes helping hand. History: She was born with hypochrondroplasia or small limbed dwarfism in the 1940s during the Hitler years. At this time it was German Nazi party policy to euthanize the genetically inferior. Her family attempted to plead with the government for her life while she lay in the hospital. During her stay, she'd discover the fable story that'd become her grimoire and restore her limbs with silver metal. Fleeing Germany afterward filled her with a sense of independence, and a demand to travel the world around her instead of the culture that rejected her. With her new magical girl powers, she constantly edits and adds onto her limbs for herself and has found her trade in her producing, buying, finding, and selling just about any needed item in the magical world. Grimoire: Das Mädchen ohne Hände (The Girl Without Hands) Classification: Fable Description: An old german story over a miller's daughter who must give up her hands due to her father making a deal with the devil. She finds and falls in love with a King and is given new hands made of silver. Grimoire's Power: Incredible powers of creation with her prosthetic hands, able to mend and mold metal in seconds to create devices ranging from guns and artillery to cars and buildings. She is able to heat them up to smelt iron and adjust them into various tools to make herself into a living and breathing foundry. In a pinch, she can turn them into hand cannons and explode her enemies with shrapnel and cannon. She can also create shields, swords and just about anything she can physically imagine and bring to life with her silver hands. She is a huge fan of Einstürzende Neubauten, Kraftwerk, and Can.</s> <\|message\|>Lucette Delacroix --The Verdict-- @Ponn @Villamvihar Though the verdict request was quite rhetorical, Lumiere wasn't surprised by the blonde's answer, in fact, she expected it, she was Ethereal Rose after all. The seraph didn't reply directly though, for the Pageless already did more than enough to show just how feasible it was to engage diplomacy with these creatures. Aye, try talking to something that was both non-sapient and actively malicious, it'd go as well as attempting to pet a rabid fox. Also as expected, Lady of the Lake and Captain Goodhope's reactions were more inline to what was proper, through these things might seem obvious, one must also remember that these girls were quite new compared to herself, inarguably so for Nessie, this being only her third day since a grimoire came to her. Again, the Pageless unwittingly answered the redhead's question. Truly, there was only one way to deal with dangerous pests, extermination. Lumiere took a step float back to let her students deal with the trapped Pageless as according to their verdicts. The Witch of Loch Ness commanded the aquatic aspect of the storm to form a veritable spear of water as it was flung into the clawed reaper's chest. At the same time, the Captain of the Flying Dutchman seemed to awaken... something within her core. Lumiere's veil and dress fluttered in the chaotic winds and if the angel could feel the blossoming radiance of hope from the twintailed blonde, she didn't show it, content to just stay in the background. And then in happened, a burst of thunderous power as Goodhope commanded the ionic aspect of the hurricane to summon multiple bolts of lightning. Fortunately for Lumiere, being blinded by light was never an issue, for the Light of God could never be outshone. Between the aqua lance and hail of lightning, the already-wounded Pageless was turned inside-out, utterly destroyed down to the last atom. Another foe of mankind put down, as it should. The seraph returned her obelisks to form into wings behind her back after, feeling the foreboding atmosphere clearing up following the alpha pageless's demise. "Excellent work, girls, you have done well." She gave an appreciate nod at each of them, Ethereal Rose & Xolys, Captain Goodhope, and Lady of the Lake, all received one, "We complement each other's abilities and as mankind have shown us throughout our history, camaraderie is the greatest tool that we have, against any and all odds, remember that you're never alone." She paused for a moment to let her words sink in before turning her gaze to another part of her English metropolis, "Speaking of which, let's see if our comrades need assistance." before accelerating toward the other patrol squad's location, expecting her own squad to follow suit.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Bell (Magical Maiden Ethereal Rose) @Villamvihar@Sonnambula In apparent response to Olivia's musings, the captive Pageless lunged in her direction, the resulting glow as it struck Lumiere's radiant barrier allowing the blonde beauty to catch a glimpse of the twisted visage beneath the creature's tattered cloak. "Oh my!" she exclaimed, more fascinated than frightened. "Are you actually a zombie?" she inquired as she studied what little of the creature's corpse-like features she could perceive. Unfortunately for the overly inquisitive maiden, her companions were far less interested in the idea of a possible Q&A session with what was obviously a being of pure hate and malice. Not wasting any time, the impetuous Lady of the Lake conjured a massive spear out of the surrounding rain water and drove it into the heart of the captive Pageless. Olivia was slightly taken aback by the suddenness of the attack, but that was nothing compared to her shock at what happened next… With a surprised gasp, Olivia's grip on Xolys tightened as a mighty gust of wind tore through the group, blowing her azure gown and golden tresses behind her. However, this was not the work of the still-contained Pageless, but rather one of their own number. They could all feel it, a swirling vortex of arcane power, centered on Captain Goodhope. Being closest to her, Olivia was able to hear the maritime maiden, who had until now remained silent, her eyes closed in prayer, give voice to a soft whisper. An instant later, the girl's Grimoire manifested in midair before her, its gilded cover shining like the beacon of a lighthouse. Taking hold of it, Wilhelmina employed the tome's noticeably heightened powers to conjure what was essentially a miniature hurricane, which, combined with Nessie's aqua spear, rapidly tore the captive Pageless to shreds. "Goodness me!" Olivia exclaimed. "That was amazing Helmi!" she told her friend excitedly. "And so very intense!" Lumiere proceeded to commend the team on their performance, after which Olivia gave the angelic girl a brilliant smile. "Thank you very much!" she told her team leader. "And I don't think I'll ever forget that," she added, gazing up at her eldritch consort. "Not with darling Xolys at my side!" At Lumiere's suggestion that they check up on Camelot's team, the otherworldly beast in question pivoted to fly after the silver-haired seraph, paying careful attention to ensure that his two passengers were safely secured. "I wonder if they encountered a Pageless as well…" Olivia mused aloud. If so, she was very curious to learn what it looked like, although whatever it was, she had no doubt that it wouldn't pose any threat to a team led by so strong and experienced a Magical Girl as Camelot.</s> <\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Suzuya Kuzunoha What followed after the team's run-in with Moonlight Tsubasa was less a patrol and more a tense walkabout the city. If any of them had the presence to truly be keeping an eye out for Pageless they didn't find anything, but it was more likely attention would be turned inwards, at least for Suzuya. At least the rainy weather was a familiar comfort, the soft crackle of rain evaporating against her bushy tails forming a steady background noise she savored. Even with the awkwardness of the other team flying by to check in on them. And for all her frustration and discomfort, Suzuya didn't say a word of it. Slipping into the role of the shy foreighner was easy when it served a purpose, and it let her reach the academy without any further attempts at provocation. And Suzuya was quite aware she'd tried to provoke a response at the stupidest time, nearly re-igniting the conflict they'd barely averted with her slap to Camelot. Pride was not something Suzuya was used to holding in high regard, but her Grimoire was not something she felt she could stand to be insulted on top of everything else. She was no King Arthur and she was hardly to ever be known outside her home country, but it wasn't some great hero that had saved Suzuya from her first brush with the Pageless. It was the story of a warrior wife who lived for love, only to suffer as her supposed allies betrayed her and placed insurmountable odds before her that claimed the life of her heart's dearest. Suzuya blinked, a moment of realization dawning upon her and snapping her from her thoughts to notice steam no longer wafted from her cup of green tea. Sitting beneath an umbrella-covered table in Merrywell's courtyard, her magic keeping her dry and cozy as she looked out over the grounds. She found herself waiting for her room mate, the elegant Alter with her terrifying paramour that Suzuya found a newfound desire to connect with. Her likely deepseeded trust issues aside, she found the hypocrisy of judging Camelot while following her mistakes simply impossible to swallow. Even if it proved...difficult, she was going to get to know her roommate.</s>	<\|message\|>Valeria Weizenbaum As Ozma walked the halls of Marrywell Academy, something exciting was unfolding. With the sound of thunder, a large explosion bursts up from the right wing of the school. An entire classroom went up into smoke as students poured out through the halls in fear and panic, thinking they were under attack. A fire alarm would ring and sprinklers would spray cold water across the halls. All of this certainly got the attention of Ozma and any other students who had arrived at the academy. The culprit would step out from the smoke and dust, coughing and blowing the smoke from her face with a wave of her hand. Her metal arms would crackle with electrifying power to summon a large vaccum nozzle, sucking up the dark clouds and removing them from view. Any flames nearby are promptly put out with a water nozzle hose, summoned just as fast on her transforming arms. "Ozma! You're late! You missed my defense training class, dumkopf! It was a real banger!" The perpetrator would rush up to the redhead and suddenly tackle her in a gripping hug, squeezing her waist and covering the poor magical girl in soot and ash. It's none other than Valeria Weisenbaum, Charlotte's old partner from her past. "Bit of a minor miscalculation there with a student's spell, but nothing to fear! I've got it under control!" Behind her, the roof of the blasted out classroom finally collapsed in onto itself and was reduced to a heap of rubble and metal with gray smoke bellowing up from its destruction. "I can fix this! I promise!"</s>
<\|description\|>Valeria Weizenbaum Magical Girl Name: Waffenhändler Age: Appears 20 Nationality: Germany Appearance: Description: A feisty and wild girl from Bavaria who has been an occasional ally of the Grand Ministry in recent years. She is fiercely independent and prefers to keep her own path, driving the world in her mystical van to collect trinkets, talismans, and most importantly to her, metal junk to smith guns and prosthetics. She proudly immerses herself in punk culture from her homeland and never plays well with authorities. Her and Ozma go way back, and she was one of the first magical girls to work with her. She offers her services to the Grand Ministry these days as a vendor and sometimes helping hand. History: She was born with hypochrondroplasia or small limbed dwarfism in the 1940s during the Hitler years. At this time it was German Nazi party policy to euthanize the genetically inferior. Her family attempted to plead with the government for her life while she lay in the hospital. During her stay, she'd discover the fable story that'd become her grimoire and restore her limbs with silver metal. Fleeing Germany afterward filled her with a sense of independence, and a demand to travel the world around her instead of the culture that rejected her. With her new magical girl powers, she constantly edits and adds onto her limbs for herself and has found her trade in her producing, buying, finding, and selling just about any needed item in the magical world. Grimoire: Das Mädchen ohne Hände (The Girl Without Hands) Classification: Fable Description: An old german story over a miller's daughter who must give up her hands due to her father making a deal with the devil. She finds and falls in love with a King and is given new hands made of silver. Grimoire's Power: Incredible powers of creation with her prosthetic hands, able to mend and mold metal in seconds to create devices ranging from guns and artillery to cars and buildings. She is able to heat them up to smelt iron and adjust them into various tools to make herself into a living and breathing foundry. In a pinch, she can turn them into hand cannons and explode her enemies with shrapnel and cannon. She can also create shields, swords and just about anything she can physically imagine and bring to life with her silver hands. She is a huge fan of Einstürzende Neubauten, Kraftwerk, and Can.</s> <\|message\|>Tesni Edris Title: Dynasty Queen Tesni It was done, the flying menace was destroyed and the team exercise was over and now she could go back to… no… nononononono! More teamwork?! Anyone looking at Tesni would almost be able to see the gears turning in her head, trying to find a way out of having to team up again. As capable as Tesni was in combat, thinking of way to dodge responsibilities outside of literally running away from them weren't her strong suit. "But, but… I did it, it's done…" the disappointment was palpable in her voice. Tesni just sounded exhausted as she wandered towards Valeria, dismissing her transformation. Sure there was something going on about 'Tuning Grimoires' or whatever, but that was of secondary importance to Tesni. She felt that her Grimoire was already plenty powerful, what needed to improve was herself. To become more aware of the similarities between the story and herself. Maybe she was wrong about that, but Tesni wasn't likely to arrive at that conclusion on her own. Good thing she was at a school that correct her if needed. "Miss Valeria… do I have to? Suzuya could have hit me, but she didn't. Would I throw myself into the firing range if I thought for a second, I would get hurt? It's a training exercise. And if it was a real battle, taking the hit to land a finishing blow is always acceptable. Let them cut my flesh so I can shatter their bones, let them shatter my bones to take their life!" even as she was spewing out excuses and justifications, she could tell she was going to have to do this. So, her mind raced, trying to think of the most efficient way to solve the issue of 'teamwork'. Logically she should team up with someone who was already familiar with her. The conclusion she came to was either double down with Bonbon or go for Suzuya who Valeria already brought up as someone who risked damaging her from a distance. Surely the best way to deal with this whole 'teamwork' thing was to take the critique at face value and directly address it? Tesni felt her brain was going to burst before giving up. "Group assignments suuuuuck…" were her final words before just slumping to the ground and lying down on the cool floor. Looking over at the students swarming the Tuner she suddenly felt envious of them. They were more concerned with getting stronger than the assignment. Closing her eyes, Tesni thought about that some more. Why wasn't she eager to get stronger? Did she subconsciously think she was already as strong as she could be? That she was finished? Completed? No… that couldn't be right. If this was the limit of her strength, then woudln't she have to team up at some point? Was she already a finished painting, no more canvas to fill in? No, that couldn't be right either. If she was already perfectly strong how could she improve? "How can I get stronger if I'm already the strongest? I have to be weak… I must be weak, because I have to get stronger." The strange recursive logic of her wanting to get stronger somehow made Tesni more accepting of the teamwork idea, even if she still hated the idea of relying on anyone else with a strange passion.</s> <\|message\|>María de Borbón @TheWendil@Majoras End Maria had failed to notice the amassing group of students that came to watch the training and only really took note of them when Charlotte caught their attention. "You really are that known, are you not, Charlotte? That is quite formidable." Maria said, answering her companion's question with a smile - the first honest smile since she walked to the girls' side. Maria followed that by ignoring Charlotte's comment about needing girls like her. She, of course, disagreed. Maria felt like her presence was a potential risk to everyone around her...but that train of thoughts was redundant. She felt there was no need to bring it up out loud and, anyway, had a creeping suspicion that Charlotte might already know how Maria felt inside. She followed Charlotte away from the crowd, remaining silent at first. She had briefly heard of what had happened but only in whispers. Charlotte, if she was to be believed of course, confirmed it. Of course the Ministry would keep such dangerous news hidden from them. Maria sighed, looking down. News of a rogue magical girl was bad enough - and in a way terrifying - and they wanted her mixed in all of it? It was as if the Ministry twisted her fears on purpose in the worst ways possible. "I am afraid you might be right." she answered the the red head's last bit about getting used to her designed role and finding a teammate. "It cannot be avoided. I just hope that they will accept my presence. Very well then, Miss Clementine. I thank you for your time and wish you well." Maria politely bowed her farewell to Ozma and made her way down to the arena, arriving shortly after the blonde haired girl, Celina. Maria would also walk closer and give the same polite bow she gave Charlotte just moments earlier - an act of etiquette clearly betraying her real age. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Miss Lupin." she began by answering the newcomer. "My name is Maria de Borbón. It's a pleasure to meet all of you, truly. I had the pleasure of watching the end of your previous training exercise and was... impressed." Maria deemed unnecessary to mention out loud why she was sent here just yet. She did not know how the group would react to that, and did not wish to pass as pompous or pretentious. She then walked closer towards Valeria, who was in her conjured vehicle still. "Greetings, Miss Weizenbaum. Could I possibly have a word with you if possible?"</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance LILAC SHIMMER Bonnie took some time to regain her footing on the ground and steady out, be which time Nessie had already moved on. "Eh? That's it?" She stared in confusion at the mecha monstrosity's ease of disintegration. "I guess that was like, four of us attacking at the same time? I thought it was supposed to be all of us." Then came Valeria's assessment, and Lilac's brow furrowed. "That's not how this is supposed to work. It's supposed to not work the first time, and then the failure teaches us to do all the stuff you're talking bout now, right? This would make a terrible story moral! Don't do the stuff that worked fine?" One of the few things that seemed able to get Lilac worked up was when the magical girl stuff wasn't working out like it was 'supposed' to. "Unless like, this is the moment of hubris and a giant super Pageless only defeatable by teamwork shows up later?" She paused for a moment, and then bounced up to the edge of the arena and peered over it to double check, just in case. Glancing back and forth, she was not quick to find any giant Pageless sneaking up on the school. Lilac crossed her arms, a little upset at another team thing so soon after the other one... "I suppose team names and attacks are fun..." Lilac begrudgingly admitted, and finally lightened up a bit again, now starting to feel a little silly over being upset. Hopefully no one had been paying attention to her since she hadn't been talking to anyone in particular. As Lilac started looking around again, she noticed a couple of new faces... since when did they have a cute doggo girl? Was she someone's familiar like Rose's friend or a magical girl? Eh, either way, Lilac decided to wave to the newcomers, before thinking more about partners. It seemed like while she was focusing on other things, Lilac missed the talk about becoming closer to one's Grimoire, but, just as well, it seemed quite a few people were following that path already. Oddly enough it was Tesni who caught Lilac's ear. Huh, Tesni seemed to make a little sense, wait what was that about weakness? Why would someone want to be weak? Lilac didn't seem to get that. She decided to walk closer, her earlier hesitance forgotten in curiousity, and perhaps a spirit of camaraderie over unsatisfaction with the battle. "Um, I'm not sure I get that. Are you saying like, being the strongest would be boring because you don't have room to improve?" Lilac tried explaining what she thought Tesni said as a way to hopefully get correction on what Tesni meant.</s> <\|message\|>Suzuya Kuzunoha Suzuya Kuzunoha The lessons were concluded for the night, or so Burning Heart believed, her attention pulled from peers and students to find what should have been a lesson was more a spectator sport. How embarrasing would it have been had they failed miserably with so many seniors and peers watching over them? The vulpine Magical Girl shuddered and chose to hop off of Xolys shoulder as more new faces came from stand and shadow alike to either introduce themselves or peruse them like one does a merchant's wares. With a slow blink, Burning Heart stopped, reconsidering that maybe her sour impressions of, well, the entire landmass of England and all therein, was making her a touch paranoid. Her transformation unfurled around her, a swirl of flame the rose dispersed on the wind to leave skittish, old Suzuya in her place. In Xolys shadow. Her heart slammed into her throat and she nearly bit her tongue stiffling the imminent urge to shriek. But...she knew he wasn't slimy. That counted for a lot, even without her Grimoire girding her will actively, and she tentatively reached her hand out. Just a pat, light and brief as though expecting to bitten, before withdrawing to her side. She'd touched him, and he was most definetly dry! The blonde perked up, imaginary ears wiggling atop her head before she remembered she wasn't a fox at the moment- Err, at all! "I think I can sleep without transforming tonight..." She murmured, hands curling under her chin as pulled her sweater to hide the excited flush of her cheeks and the giddy pull to her lips. There was a pleased warmth coming from her Grimoire, and she wondered if she actually needed a tuner to get in touch with it.</s>	<\|message\|>Valeria Weizenbaum Valeria's lessons were not clicking like she wanted them to. She had hoped to be the cool teacher that let the students do the fun stuff the more conservative staff would not allow, but things were not so easy. Perhaps she wouldn't be a natural fit for this role as she had thought but she quickly cast those doubts aside. "Oh I wanted to go easy on ze kinder. Now I am regretting my choices. They performed very well! No problems on the surface." Valeria greeted Ozma with a wave and her trademark enthusiasm. She'd clap her metal hands together and return her attention to her protesting students. Suzuya's glare did not go unnoticed, and Valeria was tempted to respond back by sticking her tongue at her. She'd have to remind herself she's supposed to be a good role model and Ozma was counting on her. Instead, she'd take all three girls together in a tight group hug enforced by her steely metal arms, bringing them all together. Probably not much more mature, but Valeria was a hugger. "Listen. My comments were not meant to be so harsh! You destroyed that hulking beast in a single maneuver, very impressive and your power is in no doubt! But the Ministry does not like lone wolves, I learned that the hard way." She'd pause a bit, recalling very specific memories. "It is not about who is strongest or who is weakest, Lilac and Tensi. I thought that way myself once! I am a big angry German war machine, and I can summon anything I want at my disposal! Why would I ever want to work with a team, they'd get in my way! I thought that way for a long time...and then one day my arm was nearly destroyed in the middle of a battle against a Pageless. Ozma actually saved my life there, with her grimoire. Our stories make us strong but stories are not told alone, they are shared in a group. That is what I've learned. To value what the stories of others can bring to you, and they can make the grimoires you carry even stronger." Valeria blinked after she finished speaking, shocked to hear herself open up so much. She's left wondering if she was spouting complete bullshit or very insightful teacher commentary. She'd let everyone else be the judge of that. She'd release the students and give them a wave goodbye. "But either way, don't hide your feelings. I appreciate the honesty from you all. Now if you'll excuse me I think I am being called away..." Maria finally arrived, and summoned Valeria away from her students. She'd give her farewells and last minute commendations before observing the lovely new lady. Drossel had her items to offer to the class and she did not want to get in the way of her. Always had to help a fellow German. "Don't call me Miss! Val or Valeria is fine! What do you require of me? I don't think you plan to become my student too, ja?"</s>
<\|description\|>Valeria Weizenbaum Magical Girl Name: Waffenhändler Age: Appears 20 Nationality: Germany Appearance: Description: A feisty and wild girl from Bavaria who has been an occasional ally of the Grand Ministry in recent years. She is fiercely independent and prefers to keep her own path, driving the world in her mystical van to collect trinkets, talismans, and most importantly to her, metal junk to smith guns and prosthetics. She proudly immerses herself in punk culture from her homeland and never plays well with authorities. Her and Ozma go way back, and she was one of the first magical girls to work with her. She offers her services to the Grand Ministry these days as a vendor and sometimes helping hand. History: She was born with hypochrondroplasia or small limbed dwarfism in the 1940s during the Hitler years. At this time it was German Nazi party policy to euthanize the genetically inferior. Her family attempted to plead with the government for her life while she lay in the hospital. During her stay, she'd discover the fable story that'd become her grimoire and restore her limbs with silver metal. Fleeing Germany afterward filled her with a sense of independence, and a demand to travel the world around her instead of the culture that rejected her. With her new magical girl powers, she constantly edits and adds onto her limbs for herself and has found her trade in her producing, buying, finding, and selling just about any needed item in the magical world. Grimoire: Das Mädchen ohne Hände (The Girl Without Hands) Classification: Fable Description: An old german story over a miller's daughter who must give up her hands due to her father making a deal with the devil. She finds and falls in love with a King and is given new hands made of silver. Grimoire's Power: Incredible powers of creation with her prosthetic hands, able to mend and mold metal in seconds to create devices ranging from guns and artillery to cars and buildings. She is able to heat them up to smelt iron and adjust them into various tools to make herself into a living and breathing foundry. In a pinch, she can turn them into hand cannons and explode her enemies with shrapnel and cannon. She can also create shields, swords and just about anything she can physically imagine and bring to life with her silver hands. She is a huge fan of Einstürzende Neubauten, Kraftwerk, and Can.</s> <\|message\|>Silvia O'Sullivan • Age: 17 • Nationality: USA Annoyed Chinami? Check. Blissfully ignorant Tesni? Double check. Charlotte here to intrude on what was suppose to just be the students? Triple check. Though to be fair, that was somewhat expected. It wasn't often Silvia hoped more people arrived at an event, but she wouldn't have minded talking to Celina or Nessie again. But no matter how long she stared down the dark hallway, it didn't seem like anyone else was coming. Had Bonnie not summoned them? Were they running late? It didn't matter. She didn't care. She looked over the group. She'd have to talk to Bonnie at some point, but at the moment it looked like Bonnie was a little busy. Popular people tended to have a lot of connections. Even if Bonnie and Silvia had only spoken with each other a few times, it made sense that she knew a lot of the people present. Silvia was likely an outlier in that regard. Of course a class of students would be familiar with each other. Why would they run off on their own to better their skills in solitude? Did the magical girls of Marrywell even believe in solitude for anything? Regardless, it wouldn't do to just hang back while everyone else went exploring. Especially since she had been noticed. Silvy? Had she just been given a nickname? Before Silvia could even respond, Tesni went on to continue talking with her friends. The speed in which she jumped from topic to topic was astounding. It almost made Silvia dizzy. She could keep up with it, but not participate. It wasn't until Suzuya produced a torch that Silvia found a moment to join them. "I don't think any of us want to burn down the school." Well, maybe one of them. Tesni did do a number on the cafeteria. "And if we did, we probably wouldn't be looking for your permission. But it's good to know you can extinguish your flames." Maybe she was trying to say that her flames wouldn't burn anything she didn't want them to burn because she could extinguish them. If so, that was a pretty passive-aggressive way to word it. "If I had flame magic I'd probably use it to cook pizza." A silly thing to say, but it was just to defuse some tention. Ozma also had a bit to say, but Silvia was only half listening to it as none of it seemed to be aimed at her specifically. We can get ratted out for this? ... Though for Charlotte, the couch remained in her focus. Maybe she was planning on taking a nap there. Maybe she and Valeria would do some cuddling before the night was over. Who really knew what went through the mind of Ozma? Though one thing was certain. She was not the first person to spot the couch by the fireplace. A woman's head rose over the back of the couch. Slowly, her forehead came into view. Then her eyes, then her nose. "Oh, hey everyone." She stepped over the back of the couch, revealing her less than modest costume. She might have been trying to go for some sort of animal hybrid mummy, but there really weren't enough wraps to fully sell the look, let alone be considered a modest costume choice. That was either bothersome or appealing depending on who was looking. There was enough jewelry to pass the "mummy" off as a pharaoh at least. Golden bangles and rings covered the woman head to toe. It wasn't immediately obvious who she was, but her voice was distinctly Mika's. A keen observer may have even noticed her scabbard wedged between the couch cushions on a second look. "I almost came as a maid, but I don't know. I didn't feel like being a servant today." And she wasn't alone. An all-white bulldog walked around the couch and sat at Mika's feet. He was unusually well dressed for the occasion. "...But I still got roped into dog-sitting. If you're going to explore the dungeon, maybe you'd like to take Winston here for a walk? He'd enjoy it." Winston just looked at the girls with a closed mouth, as if he was anticipating an answer. "Assuming you girls want your privacy that is. I can certainly come with you if you don't mind my company. Or maybe you want my company? I mean, Ozma's strong, but you know..." She wiggled her fingers in the air. "There are things locked in that dungeon that no magical girl should have to see! Things scarier than any pageless that were too powerful to defeat. They've been banished to the darkest corner of the academy to ensure they don't taint the light!" Winston turned away from everyone and buried his face in the back of the couch.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Bell (Magical Maiden Ethereal Rose) Olivia hadn't gotten far when a voice called out from behind her. Whirling around, she was greeted with the sight of… "Bonnie!" the blonde beauty exclaimed with a happy smile. "And you're Tesni, correct?" she asked, refocusing her energetic attention on Bonnie's companion. "It's very nice to see you again! Liv? Is that a nickname? Oh, gosh! I've never been given a nickname before!" Olivia gushed as if it were the greatest thing to ever happen to her. "Well, at least not a friendly one… Hmm? Oh, Suzuya?" she repeated when her roommate was inquired about. "Um, she said she had a few things to work on but, oh! There you are, Suzuya!" the azure-clad maiden noted with a surprised giggle as her roommate appeared from behind Xolys's bedsheet-covered form. Bonnie then suggested exploring the castle as a group, causing Olivia's already jubilant demeanor to brighten even further. "Oh, yes! I think that would be much more enjoyable!" the Ethereal Rose agreed, completely oblivious to the fact that Bonnie seemed far less enthusiastic about the whole "mysterious castle" thing. "And those torches will provide the most enchanting ambiance!" she added, turning to her roommate. "Thank you so very much, Suzuya! And this is my first sleepover, too!" she told Tesni. "I just brought a pillow, since Darling's cozy tendrils are better than any blanket, especially when warmed by his eldritch flames!" It was around then that a startled-sounding Bonnie said something about a pool. Looking in the redhead's direction, Olivia saw that, sure enough, the was a large pool at the center of the castle's courtyard, shimmering as it reflected the moonlight. But what was it for? After all, it was a bit too chilly to go swimming. Still such questions would have to be answered at a later time, as another new arrival chose that moment to announce her presence, and she didn't sound particularly happy… "Chinami!" Olivia greeted the knightly maiden with her usual cheer, although her running hug was stopped in its tracks when she saw the young woman's annoyed scowl. "Oh, gosh! I'm so sorry! I called you Chinami instead of Camelot!" Olivia hastily apologized, the fair maiden erroneously believing that to be the cause of her friend's less-than-pleased demeanor. "I completely forgot you prefer to go by your Magical Girl name whenever you're transformed… Oh! But isn't this castle simply amazing?!" she added, her eyes glittering with excitement the moment Camelot mentioned their unexpected surroundings. "I don't know for certain, but I think the haunted piano brought it here," she explained. "You see, according to the rumor, the piano can transport people to another world, but maybe it can also bring parts of other worlds to this one!" she continued to eagerly ramble on. "I mean, how else could such a lovely and enchanting castle like this just appear out of nowhere?!" Olivia's excited babblings were brought to a halt with Charlotte's arrival, the "totally not a teacher" making a few playful comments, before heading over to where a large couch sat before a crackling fireplace. However, someone else was already there, their Egyptian-themed form rising up to reveal Marrywell's student councilor, Mika Fang. And reveal turned out to be exactly the right word, as the young woman's mummy costume was almost scandalously skimpy, providing yet another piece of evidence to support Xolys's opinion that Marrywell's faculty were a rather unorthodox bunch. And that was without even getting into the costumed canine accompanying her… "Oh my goodness!" Olivia cried at the sight of the dapper-looking dog. "He's so cute! And I just love his little monocle!" she added, hurrying over to get a closer look.</s> <\|message\|>Bonnie Chance BONNIE CHANCE "Like I was just telling Tesni, it was just a music room! Its just different now! IdunnoMagic!" Bonnie threw her hands up in some mixture of defensiveness and panic. The social pressure of thinking she had already failed all the people she was trying to make friends with and ... Wait, who had just asked that? Bonnie blinked for a moment as Tesni began talking and she realized Camelot was back! "You're back! I didn't know you were back, Camelot!" Bonnie moves in, spreading her arms wide, pausing, then trying to subtly transition to offering a handshake. Bonnie tried to remember that they hadn't left off on great terms. But dang it she was a hug person! "Yup, exploring's still on the menu, with a team this allstar, we should be unstoppable- er, yeah, I guess more people have shown up than I invited." Bonnie answered Tesni, a bit surprised. "Oh, hey Suzuya! Didn't see ya behind the ghost. I think you're right, I don't mind some extras and let's explore. I did put a notice on my door incase anyone got lost, so, it'd make sense my roommate'd see it, eh?" Bonnie offers a smile to Suzuya and a wink to Camelot. Bonnie seemed to lose some tension after more students showed themselves, and especially the teachers. If this was some legitimate threat, there were teachers. But it probably wasn't, cause the teachers didn't seem worried. It seemed in Bonnie's mind at least, no matter how much Charlotte protested, Bonnie considered her part of the 'staff'. And Mika couldn't get surprised by any spooky ghosts, right? Now feeling calmer, despite the fact that she was no longer peering around warily, Bonnie's situational awareness actually improved, from not being quite so frightened. She noticed Silvia had slipped in previously as she spoke up and decided the appropriate response was a wave and nod of recognition. She wasn't quite sure Silvia enjoyed being talked to, so maybe this would be better? "I didn't know you had a dog, Mika! That's neat." Bonnie seems to miss the point a bit, and gets caught up in Olivia's excitement and hurries over too.</s>	<\|message\|>Valeria Weizenbaum "Welcome, welcome one and all to these old halls. A majestic castle once long ago, now cursed and haunted...filled with the ravenous undead!" A disembodied but familiar voice echoed out through the halls, reaching the ear of every magical girl involved in the castle. There's a flash of movement as something descended from the ceiling, clad in a long black cape with a red lining underneath. It's Valeria, dressed up as a vampire and sporting fake white fangs that hang out of the edges of her mouth. She's upon Charlotte at once, her breath laced with beer as she nipped and bit on Charlotte's neck in a traditional vampire's embrace. She'd hiss in her ear and giggle before lurching back upward and waving an arm to the crowd. "My first victim of the night! Muahaha! All this blad will go to my powers...and I shall become an unstop-oh nein forget this stupid accent blegh." Valeria pulled the fangs out from her mouth, rubbing her lips. "Hey hey. There's food in the dining hall, I recruited the Academy staff to make a meal of just about any type of food or drink since I wasn't sure what people wanted." Valeria would fall back into a seat next to Charlotte, kicking her boot clad feet up and hanging them up over the side of her seat. "The teachers can hang out here, just to make sure you guys aren't sneaking booze in. Because that would be terrible. Especially since you haven't shared it with me." Valeria chuckled, downing a glass bottle of Heniken in only a few steady gulps.</s>
<\|description\|>María de Borbón 21 Spanish Description: Maria has been a magical girl for close to a century now. Although a very distant relative, she was technically born in the house de Borbón, the ruling Royal Family of modern Spain. Her family, while not in direct contact with the monarchs, were still very wealthy of their own means and Maria grew up in need of nothing. She attended the most prestigious schools and had the best education available, indulging in many kind of excess until her 20th birthday. In 1937, in the midst of the Spanish Civil war, her family's estate was ransacked by a mob of angry civilians. Which side they represented mattered little and Maria never knew. In the village that they lived, their family represented excess and induced jealousy, so when everyone was starving, angry and ready to fight the inevitable happened and the family met it's fate and the hands of angry Revolutionaries. However, not Maria. She lived on through means she could never have anticipated. Before she, too, was killed by angry men something magical happened - a great book appeared before her. It was a dark book covered in ominous symbols and a dark aura, yet Maria felt the need to grab it...and the rest is history. Before the astonished eyes of the people present, María de Borbón disappeared never to be seen again. A life of undeserving excess led her here, led her to possess this dark Grimoire - The Mythos of the Angel of Darkness, the Devil himself. She was going to have to atone. Sole inheritor of her family's fortune, Maria traveled to France where she hid for a time, understanding her newly acquired power and coming to terms with it. For the longest time after that she operated alone. She had heard of the academy, but was wary of others. Her Grimoire gave her great powers, but she felt a constant pull towards something she was not, towards what the Mythos represented; Evil, Deceit and many kind of Excess. She could tap in this power, but had to remain strong not to give in, and felt like close relationship to others, magical girls or otherwise, was a risk. Eventually, however, The Ministry summoned her to come and join their rank. It was not a proposition this time, and she knew it. Maria also knew that her time being able to be on her own was drawing to a close. if she was to somehow fall - whatever that implied - she wanted others to be close by to deal with what she'd become then. Morning Star ♫ Grimoire: • Title: The Devil's Mythos. • Classification: Myth. • Description: The Devil's Mythos encompass the beliefs surrounding the fallen angel, under his many, many guises through just as many folk tales and ethnic groups. It whispers of promises of power, tell tales of deceits and of great many unspeakable betrayals. It contains the human belief of evil incarnate, no matter the origin or religion. It encompass every fears and has the will to dominate others. Needless to say, such a cursed Grimoire grants much powers - but at the risky cost of becoming what it represents. Abilities Morning Star is Maria's chosen title for her Magical Girl persona. The less ominous name given to Lucifer, from the origin before it was the incarnation of all evil. Her powers, however, are less buried in forgotten meanings and more...to the point. As the bearer of the Devil's Mythos, her powers manifest as one would expect; with Hellfire. * Demonic Strength: When calling on her powers, Morning Star has access to incredible super human strength and her physical attacks are devastating and deadly to all but the strongest foes - or the quickest. * Hellfire: Maria can call upon hellfire to surround her in a great tempest of fire, and can direct the flames to immolate enemies around. * Hellfire: Enhance: As if her great physical strength was not already enough, Maria can call upon the hell flames to enhance almost all of her attacks. her physical attacks would then be delivered with explosive, fiery effect and leave enemies charred and burning. * Wings of Evil: While she cannot remain in flight, Maria can summon forth two great bat-like wings wreathed in flames to send her a great distance away - like an enhanced jump. * Beelzebub: Probably her greatest weapon comes in the form of floating sword that looks like a cross that constantly remains floating behind her. The sword is made of an unknown dark metal and seemingly does very little until Maria calls upon it. When she does, she gets engulfed in flames for a time until the fire takes the form of a goat demon, first it's skeleton and progressively the full creature. Only it's upper body shows, Maria standing in the chest area and protected by the flames. When in this form, the Demon wield the great Dark-steel sword, now also wreathed in Hellfire.</s> <\|message\|>Tesni Edris Title: Dynasty Queen Tesni Tesni was frankly a bit shocked that anyone was actually listening to her mumbled little monologue. Looking up at Bonnie, she furrowed her brow not expecting to have to justify herself to anyone else, but she also couldn't just leave someone with a misconception about her… especially when she was addressed directly. Then of all things the teacher pulled her into a hug! No that wasn't right. She was the one who initiated hugs, it was on her terms and when she wanted it to happen. The metal arm also made the hug feel strangely 'clunky', but she suppressed the urge to squirm out of it. Instead answering Bonnie's question about her mumblings. "No… no that's not right. It's not about the boredom of being the strongest. Bon bon, it's about not having the power to be self-reliant. It's well and good to have teammates and friends, but what do you do when you're all alone? It's not about me being weak exactly. I frankly think I'm rather strong, but it's the idea that I'm already strong is a subconscious limiting factor." Tesni was not having a great time trying to explain herself, she felt she was doing it wrong, but couldn't think of any better way to put it than the metaphor that popped into her head earlier. "It's like… let's say I started my magical girl life as a crude stick figure on a canvas. That's little baby Tesni. Over time, experience and familiarity with my power is like painting a self-portrait of who I am now. Lately I felt like there wasn't much room for me to add more within my 'canvas' if that makes sense. Like I had a complete picture, it's framed and hung on the wall in a gallery." Looking Bonnie in the eyes she got up off the ground and put a hand on her shoulder. "The point is, that there is the limiting factor of the picture frame. But paint can go anywhere; the artwork doesn't have to stop with a frame. There is the wall it is hung on, or the floor or the ceiling. Why not break free of a simple portrait on canvas and add some landscapes? Make it a mural on the wall?" Tesni quickly felt that her metaphor was escaping her. "In simple terms, lately I've had a crisis. I've felt as if I had reached the limit of what I can achieve on my own. But Valeria's little speech as shifted my perspective, which thanks by the way Valeria, I really did need that... oh, she's busy with a... new kid? Bon bon, when did we get another new kid? Were they always here? Did I forget about a classmate? Whatever, not important. At least not important to the conversation we're having. Briefly turning to shout after the teacher, Teni focused on Bonnie once again. "I still want to be independent, that will never change for me. Because I don't like the idea of bugging others with problems I have, but I'm gonna be trying to work as a team because that's a new way for me to grow and improve. So although I won't ask for help... I will offer it. I realise it's kinda an arbitrary line in the sand, but it's making me feel better about the whole thing." Tesni had no idea if she made sense to anyone else, but it felt right to her and that's what mattered. "C'mon, Bon bon. We're gonna do this whole team up thing. But like… I'm one of those big ice breaker ships. Cracking through the ice, breaking the shell and releasing the gooey weak point centre… whatever, it's not like we have to have everything sorted out literally now. We have time and can figure it out as we go… I talked to much, I have a tension headache at the back of my skull, need a drink." 42nd Gecko</s> <\|message\|>OZMA "Oh! Sorry, sorry!" Charlotte said without actually moving her hand away. She couldn't help it and gave Lupin one more round of pets before finally relenting. By the time she was done there was a small crowd around the latest Marrywell student. Charlotte stepped back as the other girls took their turns admiring and fawning over Lupin. Good; it was better she made some friends now and this early on her first official day in the school. Charlotte simply nodded in approval even if she couldn't join in the fun herself. Her mind returned to the tasks at hand after all. She had other things to take care of especially when the Ministry expected results on this Roma case. And so Charlotte was gone before anyone noticed, vanished and poofed without much of a farewell. She doubted she'd get one when the others were so wrapped up in their own conversations. For now she'd work out of sight and beyond their notice to make some arrangements. Whatever else the others had to do for the night's class, they would do so and finish up before the morning hours reminded them all this was still a school. All of the girls were expected to be present and punctual for their classes over the next couple of days. In that time, they'd learn the basic curriculum taught in Marrywell's walls. But beyond the public view and outside of everyday sight, they were learning the methods of their magic and the inner-workings of their Grimoires. Being one of the newer students, Celina was placed in the same classes as the other new girls with dorming arrangements sorted out between them. All of it, including Charlotte's unseen efforts, paid off when the girls were assigned their second patrolling mission shortly after. For some it was their first. By choice or chance, the girls found themselves gathered in one group at Marrywell's entrance. As per Valeria's homework, each of them was expected to have formed some group of two or three, though Charlotte didn't seem care whatever sort of order they were in today. She flashed all of them, gathered teachers Valeria and Maria included, a wiry grin as they assembled. "Oi lasses, glad you could make it! The Minister's appointed me to look over your patrol for today so let's see if you girls actually learned something the last week, ya?" A crowd of students were also watching the group depart. It was rare for the Crimson Comet herself to head such thing as just a meager patrol, let alone act like she was a teacher after avoiding the role for years. Naturally it'd cause quite some buzz in the air. Charlotte paid them no mind, spinning around and transforming into her magical uniform. "Remember, muggles can't very well see us when we're transformed, so try not to make such a fuss. Students keep up with your teachers and teachers, try to keep up~" Magical Girl Ozma announced with a wink. A twirl of her hands summoned a bright white witch's broom that sparkled in sheen with the morning light. Ozma hopped on the length of it with the balance of a skateboard before zooming forward into London with a crimson streak. Her smirk was…slightly off today, something Maria and Valeria would notice. Maybe there was more to this simple "patrol" than the senior girl was letting on but that could only be confirmed if they started catching up. ---</s>	<\|message\|>María de Borbón "What a relief--" she began, before being smacked into the shoulder by Valeria as a sign of what Maria could only describe as camaraderie. Depending on Valeria's levels of awareness, she might notice that while Maria did indeed recoil, she took this hit better than what she german girl might had expected for such a powerful arm. While the tall blonde was completely unhurt, she still brought a hand to her shoulder in fear of vexing Valeria if she didn't. Perhaps a foolish thought born from Maria's lack of social interactions in the last decades, but still. "Yes, it does seem like Miss Clementine has left us. She is as mysterious as I had heard before, isn't she? Well, Valeria, rest well and see you soon." she said she said with another subtle bow before heading out herself, politely smiling and bidding farewell at anyone who would meet her gaze. The girls were busy in their discussion, and Maria came to the same conclusion Ozma did in that now was not the time for additional interactions. Time passed, and Maria began teaching along with Valeria. As discussed, they would split the charge of different courses. Maria was a woman of...few words. She was always polite to a fault and followed almost perfect etiquette, yet tended to keep conversations short and to the point, avoiding unnecessary interactions for the time being. She preferred to teach in a hands-off manner. Anything that was theoretical seemed to be her cup of tea, and the times when the Girls would change she would remain unchanged and give advises, pointers and tips as and if necessary. She would leave everything that needed direct interactions and action to Valeria - such as combat practice - and never once in those few days did anyone see Maria change into her Grimoire. If asked why or asked to do it, she would simply say that it is not necessary at this time and leave it at that. On the day that Ozma gathered everyone at the Academy's entrance, Maria stood towards the front with Valeria. All of their charges were supposed to have chosen teams already, so in that regard they were covered - in theory. Maria did notice something off with Charlotte, but did not care to bring it up yet. She did however looked at Valeria to see if she, too, noticed it. That alone would not be deranging if it wasn't for what Charlotte told her a few days ago about what was happening. It led Maria to believe that, perhaps, the Ministry expected things to go wrong with this sortie, too. Anyhow, they still needed to go. (EDIT:) She knew their students had formed their teams as asked, so she simply faced the group and said; "As your recently appointed Teacher it is my duty to make sure everyone come back to this Academy alive and well. Keep a close eyes on your partners and each others and remember Miss Weizenbaum's words; Stories are shared in group. I expect to see a marked improvement out there, today - I am certain I will not be disappointed." Maria turned to Valeria and politely asked; "Valeria, may I ask to ride alongside you in your vehicle if possible? I would greatly appreciate it."</s>
<\|description\|>María de Borbón 21 Spanish Description: Maria has been a magical girl for close to a century now. Although a very distant relative, she was technically born in the house de Borbón, the ruling Royal Family of modern Spain. Her family, while not in direct contact with the monarchs, were still very wealthy of their own means and Maria grew up in need of nothing. She attended the most prestigious schools and had the best education available, indulging in many kind of excess until her 20th birthday. In 1937, in the midst of the Spanish Civil war, her family's estate was ransacked by a mob of angry civilians. Which side they represented mattered little and Maria never knew. In the village that they lived, their family represented excess and induced jealousy, so when everyone was starving, angry and ready to fight the inevitable happened and the family met it's fate and the hands of angry Revolutionaries. However, not Maria. She lived on through means she could never have anticipated. Before she, too, was killed by angry men something magical happened - a great book appeared before her. It was a dark book covered in ominous symbols and a dark aura, yet Maria felt the need to grab it...and the rest is history. Before the astonished eyes of the people present, María de Borbón disappeared never to be seen again. A life of undeserving excess led her here, led her to possess this dark Grimoire - The Mythos of the Angel of Darkness, the Devil himself. She was going to have to atone. Sole inheritor of her family's fortune, Maria traveled to France where she hid for a time, understanding her newly acquired power and coming to terms with it. For the longest time after that she operated alone. She had heard of the academy, but was wary of others. Her Grimoire gave her great powers, but she felt a constant pull towards something she was not, towards what the Mythos represented; Evil, Deceit and many kind of Excess. She could tap in this power, but had to remain strong not to give in, and felt like close relationship to others, magical girls or otherwise, was a risk. Eventually, however, The Ministry summoned her to come and join their rank. It was not a proposition this time, and she knew it. Maria also knew that her time being able to be on her own was drawing to a close. if she was to somehow fall - whatever that implied - she wanted others to be close by to deal with what she'd become then. Morning Star ♫ Grimoire: • Title: The Devil's Mythos. • Classification: Myth. • Description: The Devil's Mythos encompass the beliefs surrounding the fallen angel, under his many, many guises through just as many folk tales and ethnic groups. It whispers of promises of power, tell tales of deceits and of great many unspeakable betrayals. It contains the human belief of evil incarnate, no matter the origin or religion. It encompass every fears and has the will to dominate others. Needless to say, such a cursed Grimoire grants much powers - but at the risky cost of becoming what it represents. Abilities Morning Star is Maria's chosen title for her Magical Girl persona. The less ominous name given to Lucifer, from the origin before it was the incarnation of all evil. Her powers, however, are less buried in forgotten meanings and more...to the point. As the bearer of the Devil's Mythos, her powers manifest as one would expect; with Hellfire. * Demonic Strength: When calling on her powers, Morning Star has access to incredible super human strength and her physical attacks are devastating and deadly to all but the strongest foes - or the quickest. * Hellfire: Maria can call upon hellfire to surround her in a great tempest of fire, and can direct the flames to immolate enemies around. * Hellfire: Enhance: As if her great physical strength was not already enough, Maria can call upon the hell flames to enhance almost all of her attacks. her physical attacks would then be delivered with explosive, fiery effect and leave enemies charred and burning. * Wings of Evil: While she cannot remain in flight, Maria can summon forth two great bat-like wings wreathed in flames to send her a great distance away - like an enhanced jump. * Beelzebub: Probably her greatest weapon comes in the form of floating sword that looks like a cross that constantly remains floating behind her. The sword is made of an unknown dark metal and seemingly does very little until Maria calls upon it. When she does, she gets engulfed in flames for a time until the fire takes the form of a goat demon, first it's skeleton and progressively the full creature. Only it's upper body shows, Maria standing in the chest area and protected by the flames. When in this form, the Demon wield the great Dark-steel sword, now also wreathed in Hellfire.</s> <\|message\|>Nessie Burns Despite her failure to execute the momentous attack she'd been building up, Nessie didn't feel discouraged in the slightest while moving back from Maria to get closer to the rest of her class. She was smart enough to recognise her own progress, especially as it was pointed out by Maria in the midst of affirmation and praise. All she could think about now was how she'd make that attack land next time, a smile brought to her face as she envisioned it in her mind's eye. She was back with her Grimoire now, and rightfully so. Now perhaps if they got out of this whole mess she'd be able to actually do some proper training. "Th-thanks, miss... As Maria's hand left her shoulder, Nessie raised her own hand up to that spot to fully register the warmth it left behind. Not just in a figurative way, but actual physical heat. It wasn't painful, it seemed like her teacher had made her best effort not simmer her power down, but it felt almost like Nessie was sticking her hand into the middle of a warm oven. Almost toasty and soothing enough for it to be uncomfortable. The girl's eyes looked up to the teachers standing between them and Roma, her eyes frowning with uncertainty as she truly realised that things could get serious. Ozma's tone, Valeria's sudden stoicism, a dense conversation filled with terms and references she didn't understand or have context for... Nessie was slowly realising how out of her depth she was now, along with her fellow classmates. So out of her depth Nessie was, in fact, that Roma's ideals almost seemed reasonable to the young Magical Girl were it not for Stripes' boisterous intervention in the conversation. As the girl found herself and her situation being singled out she looked between both Stripes and Roma in surprise, taken aback by just how ballsy her former saviour was. It was enough to kick her into her own train of mind and actions now, especially as she some of the others gearing up for attack. Nessie would have followed suit, were it not for the sudden thought that even her classmates whom had encountered the rogue Magical Girl before probably weren't sure themselves of what was the best course of action was, nor what was really going on. It probably wouldn't help much to be impetuous at this point. And that's when she turned her attention back to Valeria and Maria. Only a short distance from the two, the redhead picked up traces of their low whispering, her eyes attentively following her ears as she gave them a sidewards glance. "... not be her real... Maria can you... escape for... surrounded or worse..." Valeria's strong accent combined with her uncharacteristically soft tone didn't help things for Nessie, but with what she heard she was able to fill in the blanks enough to get a general idea of what the next steps could be, depending on how tactful things remained. Instead of preparing an attack she'd summon her broomstick to her side, gripping it tightly with one hand. Meanwhile she scanned around for any of her fellow Magical Girls who didn't have some means of flight, or at least quick transportation, gesturing with her free hand to them in case they wanted to hop on with her. Whether they attacked or fled it would probably prove an advantage to remain airborne, she figured.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Bell (Magical Maiden Ethereal Rose) Although Olivia had addressed her question to Valeria, it was Ozma who answered first, noting that she was indeed correct in her assumption that they were all Magical Girls, and thus should all be on the same side. Nonetheless, an uneasy tension continued to suffuse the air, accentuated by the flurry of less-than-enthusiastic responses that followed. First was Maria, who commended Olivia's curiosity, yet still felt it was out of place in such a serious situation. This was followed by Suzuya leaping off Xolys and placing herself between Olivia and Tsubasa, while somewhat harshly rebuking the azure-clad beauty's attempt to try and pet the now seemingly pacified Pageless. Although Olivia knew her friend was simply trying to protect her, the fox girl's words still caused a frown to mar the fair maiden's otherwise lovely countenance. Before she could say anything in reply, Valeria finally gave her own reponse, informing the Ethereal Rose that the masked Magical Girl had a dangerous reputation, and thus was someone to be extremely wary of. This revelation did little to remove the frown from the blonde beauty's face, but she understood that if a Magical Girl with as much experience as Valeria was giving such warnings, then they were probably true and she would do well to heed them. "O-Oh, I see…" Olivia replied softly. "Very well then," she added, giving a small nod of acknowledgment, while silently joining the German in hoping that the tense standoff wouldn't dissolve into violence and feeling considerable relief when the metal-limbed girl lowered her pistol. Still, those concerns were quickly forgotten when Tsubasa began speaking once more, her words as refined and elegant as ever. But this time, she was addressing Olivia and her consort directly… Oh my gosh! Is she actually giving me a chance to pet them?! the lovely maiden thought to herself, almost squealing with delight, and completely missing the insult directed towards her roommate. Oh, how absolutely wonderful! she gushed, closing her eyes as her lips curled into a blissful smile. Indeed, the blonde beauty was so enraptured by her imaginings of what such an experience might be like that she was utterly oblivious to the rest of the masked maiden's monologue. Thus, it came as a bit of a surprise when she was broken out of her reverie by the sound of Ozma mentioning something about a "real body" and subsequently caught sight of one of the other girls conjuring a quartet of mystic projectiles, all aimed at Tsubasa… "U-Ummm, what's going on?" an utterly clueless Olivia inquired. "Miss Tsubasa has just enumerated her goals," her darling Xolys replied. "And it regretfully appears that they stand in opposition to our own." While his lovely consort had been dreaming of cuddling and snuggling with piles of cute Pageless, the Master of Xhar'doth had been paying close attention to the continuing exchange between Tsubasa and the rest of the gathered Magical Girls. Although the eldritch beast had yet to hear the masked maiden's responses to the very reasonable inquiries posed to her, something told him that Tsubasa's answers would do little to defuse the tense atmosphere. In fact, he was almost certain they would do the exact opposite, something Ozma's insinuation that the Tsubasa who stood before them was merely an illusion of some form only seemed to confirm. With that in mind, he tightened his grip on Olivia and made sure to move one of his larger appendages so as to shield the azure-clad beauty from any potential ranged attacks. Concurrently, he readied his myriad other limbs to spring into action at the slightest hint of danger, while tiny eyes formed on dozens of tentacular stalks, allowing him a full three hundred and sixty degree field of vision. If Moonlight Tsubasa really was planning to engage in combat, then Thyerg'Xolys would be ready…</s>	<\|message\|>María de Borbón In front of Roma's antics and grand theatrical answers, Maria opted to remain silent. The blond teacher instead used the exchange of words between the rogue magical girl, Ozma and her students to take a closer look at their surroundings, the pageless and Roma herself - for she had came to the same conclusion as the Crimson Comet about Roma's real body not being the one speaking to them now, which Valeria more than probably also caught on to. Also, there was not much to tell Roma as her ideals and reasons seemed to be twisted. A fact which Stripe didn't fail to shout back at the self proclaimed savior of Magical Girls. Bhakti's speech seemed to make sense on surface, but as soon as you dug even a tiny bit you realized just how much she fell down in her own interpretation of things. Unfortunately, Maria believed that the girl truly believed her own words. Maria wondered then what exactly could have happened for someone like Roma to fall this far and then decided she would have to do a little digging once back at the Academy. For now, however, the priority was the safety of the students. While they probably could handle themselves well in a fight and, looking at them, they seemed ready to do so this was beyond the point. As Senior, it was their role to protect the next generation so that they could reach their full potential and take over. This situation was made more risky not only by the physical threat but also the very real possibility that such twisted words could lay a dormant seed in the minds of those more innocent and grow into something twisted, like Roma became. "Do you see, Lady Bhakti, how our students see through your twisted words and corrupted morals? You spoke of Pageless and of Magical Girls - but what of the innocents? Pageless do not only hunt Magical Girls, they kill indiscriminately. How many defenseless humans died to them as well? You seem to think strength grants you the right to lead and go on a crusade for your own fabricated goals. It does not matter to me what the Academy or anyone else says. You forget that our strength and powers should be used first and foremost to Protect." Maria then turned to Valeria, who whispered to her. Lady Weizenbaum... - Maria thought - Are you not the most noblest of Knights. Even so, I could never forgive myself if you were to be wounded doing such a noble act... She answered, lowering her voice somewhat. "Are you certain of this, Valeria? If things turn sour, and this Lady Bhakti indeed intend to harm anyone of us, the chances are likely that whomever remain would be the target, as they would be isolated. If things turn to conflict, would it not be more prudent to pool all our strength in ensuring everyone's safety?"</s>
<\|description\|>Celina Kennedy, Lupin Age: 17 Nationality: Irish Description: Well, when you come from a country well known for it's mythos, the concept of grimores and the Pageless doesn't seem so far fetched. A level-headed young woman, Celina is a relatively new magical girl with almost a year under her belt. Caring, but can also be a bit territorial, protective to the ones she grows attached to. Though she does have moments where she loses her temper, she dares not to harm anyone innocent in the process and heavily restrains herself to prevent such an outcome. Hailing from Dublin, Celina's life growing up was...pretty much normal. She was the middle child, wedged between an older brother and a sickly twin sister, and her parents though busy did their best for their children. They did well in school, they had good friends (except that one time), Celina's brother even got a job at one point. So what could've happened to turn Celina into the red-cloaked Lupin? For some reason, her twin's condition began to get worse, eventually leaving her hospitalized. The other two siblings did their best to stay by her side while their parents handled most of the medical stuff, borrowing books from the library and helping her around her room. Her sister's condition didn't get worse in their efforts, but it didn't get better either. No one knew what the cause was, and the stress of it began to ignite conflict between Celina's family. She didn't care. In the dead of night during one visit, Celina woke up to the sound of animalistic growling. At first she assumed it was her mind playing tricks after a dream, but that came into question once she saw the source of the noise. A spine chilling sight, the Pageless bore a similar appearance to a wolf, only...wrong. Terrifying. Yet she didn't scream. For some reason she didn't, even though she was internally panicking at the mere sight of the monster. Becauss it looked like it didn't notice her, or was saving her for later, for it only held grim intentions for the still-sleeping twin. Celina didn't even have to think of why or what it's reason was. It had to go. She quietly made her way over to a stack of books on the bedside table, and throwing caution to the wind, threw one at the Pageless before it could strike. And once she got it's attention, she kept attacking it, driving it away. Until the last book answered to her desperation, and a small blade took it's place, piercing through the false wolf's flesh. Standing in Celina Kennedy's place was another threat entirely. One who would be known by the moniker Lupin. The beast was swiftly dealt with, and Lupin dissapeared into the night. She had to learn more about these creatures, this power. And perhaps kill the rest of that one Pageless' pack while she was at it. But Celina did return in the morning before anyone could be concerned. That Pageless. Was it just feasting on her sister's life force, or was it trying to prevent the wrong twin from finding their grimore? Either way, she hoped her sister could recover from that. After some time had passed, Celina was taken in by the Grand Ministry, and moved to London so she could attend Marrywell Academy. The Ministry themselves, she's mostly indifferent to. Though that's probably because she doesn't have a set opinion on them yet. Grimoire: • Title: Little Red Riding Hood • Classification: Fable • Description: Little Red Riding Hood is a European fairy tale about a young girl and a Big Bad Wolf. Its origins can be traced back to several pre-17th century European folk tales. The two best known versions were written by Charles Perrault and the Brothers Grimm, which this Grimore derives from. • Abilities: The Wolf - After Little Red had entered the woods, a seemingly innocuous wolf approached her. Lupin adopts the traits of one such wolf to help her in her own hunt. Acute hearing, improved eyesight during night time; essentially giving her night vision, and sharp canines that can tear through flesh of both humans and pageless. Well, under the assumption that the pageless do have flesh. Lupin's "claws" come in the form of her weapon, a seemingly endless amount of throwing knifes usually stored inside her jacket. The Hunter - After the Wolf had finished his feast, he fell asleep. He snored so loudly a huntsman followed the sound and cut Little Red and her Grandma free. A passive ability, Lupin's physical prowess is increased whilst she's transformed, letting her take a few more heavy blows than one normally could. The Hood - The Big Bad Wolf had decieved both Grandma and Little Red, eating them whole after they've let their guard down. Lupin's own hood isn't just for show. It allows her to take the appearance of anyone she gets a good look at. However, the illusion isn't entirely perfect. Perhaps their voice is too high or low, or the color of their eyes are the wrong shade. There will always be something that sets Lupin's disguise apart from the real deal. Misc:</s> <\|message\|>Valeria Weizenbaum Val was all fun and bluster until the adventure to mess up some heartless evolved into a dramatic encounter with one of the most dangerous beings the academy. Her teasing and carefree attitude came to an end, immediately she's out of the open roofed car and throwing aside her bottle of beer. A serious glare overtook her face as she aimed a golden tinted revolver towards Roma as she made her approach. She'd only halt from shooting as Ozma appeared to come talk to her, confusing Valeria. The teacher make sure she's in front of the students like Nessie, not wanting them to get hit in case this meeting turns into violence. "So we're just here for a dialog huh? Is that why you've been harassing the academy with pageless attacks?" Her revolver is spun and chambered, ready to be fired. She'd stand before the gathered students, ready to defend them with her life if necessary. For now, she felt no hostile intent from Roma, yet. "If you really want to talk and show you're peaceful, why don't you drop your grimoire and put your hands up? We can have a nice dialog in the school yard and you'd even have a bigger audience there too, ja?" That legion of Pageless behind Roma could spring into action at any moment, keeping Valeria on edge. "Kinder stay behind me. Now."</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Bell (Magical Maiden Ethereal Rose) @ShadowSunRisen Unfortunately for Olivia, between the efforts of Xolys, Suzuya, and the rest of the gathered Magical Girls, the Pageless were annihilated far too quickly for her to make more than the most cursory of observations of their adorable reptilian features. Although this brought the blonde beauty no small amount of disappointment, she knew that the swift culling of their foes was undoubtedly for the best, lest one of the monsters manage to harm any of her fellow Magical Girls, or worse, escape into the city beyond. As it transpired, however, the battle did not conclude with the elimination of the final Pageless, but, rather, with the arrival of yet another Magical Girl… She was a strikingly tall masked woman, who emerged from what was once an art supply store. She'd apparently been putting what supplies still remained to good use, at least, if the splotches of paint on her hands was any indication. Lavishly garbed, she possessed an exceedingly refined demeanor, one that was not lessened in the slightest by her manner of speech. Once the new arrival had given her greeting, and Ozma her response, Olivia realized that this was the person they'd been seeking, Moonlight Tsubasa. She'd heard about her from Suzuya, whose team had encountered the masked maiden during their patrol a few days earlier. However, despite the unsettling nature of that encounter, and the tense atmosphere that pervaded this one, Olivia's thoughts were, unsurprisingly, focused on something completely removed from any concern of impending danger… "Oh my goodness!" Olivia exclaimed, even as she felt a slight chill trickle down her spine. "She can make the Pageless stop attacking just like me! And she can even control them, too!" the Ethereal Rose added, her lovely visage seeming to glitter with wonderment. "You said you met her before, right Suzuya?!" the azure-clad maiden inquired with an enthusiastic gleam in her eyes. "Do you think if we asked nicely, she'd let us take a closer look at the Pageless behind her?! Or perhaps even pet them?!" "I believe now might not be the best time for that, my sweet," Xolys replied gently. "It would appear that a conversation of some significance is taking place, and it would be most impolite to interrupt such a discourse, do you not agree, Miss Suzuya?" the eldritch beast inquired of his passenger, whose previous gestures of respectful affection had been greatly appreciated. Olivia frowned slightly at her darling's words, but before she or Suzuya could respond, they heard Valeria issue an ultimatum to the new arrival. Looking in the german girl's direction, Olivia couldn't help but give voice to an alarmed gasp. Valeria had stepped forward to place herself between Tsubasa and the rest of the students, and was now aiming a pistol at the masked maiden. Olivia couldn't help but question if such a show of force was truly necessary. After all, Tsubasa didn't currently appear to be a threat. Indeed, if she truly harbored ill intentions towards the gathered Magical Girls, would she have called off the attacking Pageless and subsequently engaged them in polite conversation? As far as Olivia was concerned, if anything was going to make the mysterious woman turn hostile, and thus completely unreceptive to any requests to pet her subservient Pageless it would be an act of completely unwarranted aggression like this one. "P-Pardon me, Miss Valeria," Ethereal Rose spoke up. "But is it really necessary to treat Miss Tsubasa so aggressively? She hasn't done anything to harm us, and actually stopped the Pageless from attacking!" the blonde beauty added, gesturing to where the pacified Pageless were gathered behind Tsubasa. "I mean, she is a fellow Magical Girl, isn't she? Doesn't that mean we're on the same side?"</s> <\|message\|>María de Borbón @ShadowSunRisen@Ponn@Lonewolf685 Maria, who had witnessed Nessie effort and near-success, was now staring at Roma with intent as she walked around to position herself between Nessie and the new comer just like Valera did for everyone. "Miss Burns, dear, stand with the others please. Unless I'm very much mistaken, this would be the lady you or your colleagues have met before and the reason the Crimson Comet brought us here." She turned turned around and briefly smiled at Nessie, one hand on her shoulder; "I saw your efforts bear fruits, wonderfully done." and she nudged her student to go closer to the others "Call me as you wish, Miss Burns - though...calling me miss does make me feel quite younger." with this little attempt at a jest, Maria left Nessie with her peers and walked up to join Valeria between them and Roma. Nessie would have felt her touch to be...hotter than before. In fact, the air immediately surrounding Maria slowly began rising in temperature ever so slowly. As she did so, she address Olivia's answer partly; "Miss Bell, your curiosity is admirable, but I fear it might be misplaced in this situation." Not having been there for their first encounters, Maria thought it more prudent to let Valeria fully answer Olivia's question. "Lady Bhakti, I presume." Maria said once everyone said their piece. "If unleashing your pets at our students is your way of presenting yourself, it is in poor tastes. We have not met yet. My name is María de Borbón, newly appointed Teacher and Guardian to these students of Marrywell Academy - whom lives you have threatened. Twice, I believe. If talk is what you are after, I strongly urge you to reconsider doing that again and to accept my colleague's proposition."</s>	<\|message\|>Celina Kennedy, Lupin For a moment, it almost seemed too easy. Cleave and maim, rip and tear. Just a moment longer and the reversed ambush would be done with. Atleast, that's what Lupin was sure of. And then, an abrupt stop. The pageless were retreating. The wolf girl was almost tempted to go after them, until all eyes were turned to a new face. A new, regal and dangerous looking face. Their target was drawn out. Now what? Where her fellow magical girls reacted outloud to Roma, be it in curiosity or caution, Lupin remained quiet. Though the sight of the teachers standing in between the strange woman and them earned an unamused look. She could handle herself just fine, thank you. She didn't know who she was, what she's done, or why they were hunting her. But one thing's for sure. If the amount of Pageless behind her in waiting was something to go off of? Lupin eyed Moonlight Tsubasa intently, emitting a low, animalistic growl. The others can go ahead and try the diplomatic approach all they want. But once their target decided against it, she'll be tearing the flesh off her skin with her teeth and keeping that mask as a trophy. For now, she remained near Stripes. Protecting her partner was a priority in her eyes.</s>
<\|description\|>Celina Kennedy, Lupin Age: 17 Nationality: Irish Description: Well, when you come from a country well known for it's mythos, the concept of grimores and the Pageless doesn't seem so far fetched. A level-headed young woman, Celina is a relatively new magical girl with almost a year under her belt. Caring, but can also be a bit territorial, protective to the ones she grows attached to. Though she does have moments where she loses her temper, she dares not to harm anyone innocent in the process and heavily restrains herself to prevent such an outcome. Hailing from Dublin, Celina's life growing up was...pretty much normal. She was the middle child, wedged between an older brother and a sickly twin sister, and her parents though busy did their best for their children. They did well in school, they had good friends (except that one time), Celina's brother even got a job at one point. So what could've happened to turn Celina into the red-cloaked Lupin? For some reason, her twin's condition began to get worse, eventually leaving her hospitalized. The other two siblings did their best to stay by her side while their parents handled most of the medical stuff, borrowing books from the library and helping her around her room. Her sister's condition didn't get worse in their efforts, but it didn't get better either. No one knew what the cause was, and the stress of it began to ignite conflict between Celina's family. She didn't care. In the dead of night during one visit, Celina woke up to the sound of animalistic growling. At first she assumed it was her mind playing tricks after a dream, but that came into question once she saw the source of the noise. A spine chilling sight, the Pageless bore a similar appearance to a wolf, only...wrong. Terrifying. Yet she didn't scream. For some reason she didn't, even though she was internally panicking at the mere sight of the monster. Becauss it looked like it didn't notice her, or was saving her for later, for it only held grim intentions for the still-sleeping twin. Celina didn't even have to think of why or what it's reason was. It had to go. She quietly made her way over to a stack of books on the bedside table, and throwing caution to the wind, threw one at the Pageless before it could strike. And once she got it's attention, she kept attacking it, driving it away. Until the last book answered to her desperation, and a small blade took it's place, piercing through the false wolf's flesh. Standing in Celina Kennedy's place was another threat entirely. One who would be known by the moniker Lupin. The beast was swiftly dealt with, and Lupin dissapeared into the night. She had to learn more about these creatures, this power. And perhaps kill the rest of that one Pageless' pack while she was at it. But Celina did return in the morning before anyone could be concerned. That Pageless. Was it just feasting on her sister's life force, or was it trying to prevent the wrong twin from finding their grimore? Either way, she hoped her sister could recover from that. After some time had passed, Celina was taken in by the Grand Ministry, and moved to London so she could attend Marrywell Academy. The Ministry themselves, she's mostly indifferent to. Though that's probably because she doesn't have a set opinion on them yet. Grimoire: • Title: Little Red Riding Hood • Classification: Fable • Description: Little Red Riding Hood is a European fairy tale about a young girl and a Big Bad Wolf. Its origins can be traced back to several pre-17th century European folk tales. The two best known versions were written by Charles Perrault and the Brothers Grimm, which this Grimore derives from. • Abilities: The Wolf - After Little Red had entered the woods, a seemingly innocuous wolf approached her. Lupin adopts the traits of one such wolf to help her in her own hunt. Acute hearing, improved eyesight during night time; essentially giving her night vision, and sharp canines that can tear through flesh of both humans and pageless. Well, under the assumption that the pageless do have flesh. Lupin's "claws" come in the form of her weapon, a seemingly endless amount of throwing knifes usually stored inside her jacket. The Hunter - After the Wolf had finished his feast, he fell asleep. He snored so loudly a huntsman followed the sound and cut Little Red and her Grandma free. A passive ability, Lupin's physical prowess is increased whilst she's transformed, letting her take a few more heavy blows than one normally could. The Hood - The Big Bad Wolf had decieved both Grandma and Little Red, eating them whole after they've let their guard down. Lupin's own hood isn't just for show. It allows her to take the appearance of anyone she gets a good look at. However, the illusion isn't entirely perfect. Perhaps their voice is too high or low, or the color of their eyes are the wrong shade. There will always be something that sets Lupin's disguise apart from the real deal. Misc:</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Bell (Magical Maiden Ethereal Rose) Although Olivia had addressed her question to Valeria, it was Ozma who answered first, noting that she was indeed correct in her assumption that they were all Magical Girls, and thus should all be on the same side. Nonetheless, an uneasy tension continued to suffuse the air, accentuated by the flurry of less-than-enthusiastic responses that followed. First was Maria, who commended Olivia's curiosity, yet still felt it was out of place in such a serious situation. This was followed by Suzuya leaping off Xolys and placing herself between Olivia and Tsubasa, while somewhat harshly rebuking the azure-clad beauty's attempt to try and pet the now seemingly pacified Pageless. Although Olivia knew her friend was simply trying to protect her, the fox girl's words still caused a frown to mar the fair maiden's otherwise lovely countenance. Before she could say anything in reply, Valeria finally gave her own reponse, informing the Ethereal Rose that the masked Magical Girl had a dangerous reputation, and thus was someone to be extremely wary of. This revelation did little to remove the frown from the blonde beauty's face, but she understood that if a Magical Girl with as much experience as Valeria was giving such warnings, then they were probably true and she would do well to heed them. "O-Oh, I see…" Olivia replied softly. "Very well then," she added, giving a small nod of acknowledgment, while silently joining the German in hoping that the tense standoff wouldn't dissolve into violence and feeling considerable relief when the metal-limbed girl lowered her pistol. Still, those concerns were quickly forgotten when Tsubasa began speaking once more, her words as refined and elegant as ever. But this time, she was addressing Olivia and her consort directly… Oh my gosh! Is she actually giving me a chance to pet them?! the lovely maiden thought to herself, almost squealing with delight, and completely missing the insult directed towards her roommate. Oh, how absolutely wonderful! she gushed, closing her eyes as her lips curled into a blissful smile. Indeed, the blonde beauty was so enraptured by her imaginings of what such an experience might be like that she was utterly oblivious to the rest of the masked maiden's monologue. Thus, it came as a bit of a surprise when she was broken out of her reverie by the sound of Ozma mentioning something about a "real body" and subsequently caught sight of one of the other girls conjuring a quartet of mystic projectiles, all aimed at Tsubasa… "U-Ummm, what's going on?" an utterly clueless Olivia inquired. "Miss Tsubasa has just enumerated her goals," her darling Xolys replied. "And it regretfully appears that they stand in opposition to our own." While his lovely consort had been dreaming of cuddling and snuggling with piles of cute Pageless, the Master of Xhar'doth had been paying close attention to the continuing exchange between Tsubasa and the rest of the gathered Magical Girls. Although the eldritch beast had yet to hear the masked maiden's responses to the very reasonable inquiries posed to her, something told him that Tsubasa's answers would do little to defuse the tense atmosphere. In fact, he was almost certain they would do the exact opposite, something Ozma's insinuation that the Tsubasa who stood before them was merely an illusion of some form only seemed to confirm. With that in mind, he tightened his grip on Olivia and made sure to move one of his larger appendages so as to shield the azure-clad beauty from any potential ranged attacks. Concurrently, he readied his myriad other limbs to spring into action at the slightest hint of danger, while tiny eyes formed on dozens of tentacular stalks, allowing him a full three hundred and sixty degree field of vision. If Moonlight Tsubasa really was planning to engage in combat, then Thyerg'Xolys would be ready…</s> <\|message\|>María de Borbón In front of Roma's antics and grand theatrical answers, Maria opted to remain silent. The blond teacher instead used the exchange of words between the rogue magical girl, Ozma and her students to take a closer look at their surroundings, the pageless and Roma herself - for she had came to the same conclusion as the Crimson Comet about Roma's real body not being the one speaking to them now, which Valeria more than probably also caught on to. Also, there was not much to tell Roma as her ideals and reasons seemed to be twisted. A fact which Stripe didn't fail to shout back at the self proclaimed savior of Magical Girls. Bhakti's speech seemed to make sense on surface, but as soon as you dug even a tiny bit you realized just how much she fell down in her own interpretation of things. Unfortunately, Maria believed that the girl truly believed her own words. Maria wondered then what exactly could have happened for someone like Roma to fall this far and then decided she would have to do a little digging once back at the Academy. For now, however, the priority was the safety of the students. While they probably could handle themselves well in a fight and, looking at them, they seemed ready to do so this was beyond the point. As Senior, it was their role to protect the next generation so that they could reach their full potential and take over. This situation was made more risky not only by the physical threat but also the very real possibility that such twisted words could lay a dormant seed in the minds of those more innocent and grow into something twisted, like Roma became. "Do you see, Lady Bhakti, how our students see through your twisted words and corrupted morals? You spoke of Pageless and of Magical Girls - but what of the innocents? Pageless do not only hunt Magical Girls, they kill indiscriminately. How many defenseless humans died to them as well? You seem to think strength grants you the right to lead and go on a crusade for your own fabricated goals. It does not matter to me what the Academy or anyone else says. You forget that our strength and powers should be used first and foremost to Protect." Maria then turned to Valeria, who whispered to her. Lady Weizenbaum... - Maria thought - Are you not the most noblest of Knights. Even so, I could never forgive myself if you were to be wounded doing such a noble act... She answered, lowering her voice somewhat. "Are you certain of this, Valeria? If things turn sour, and this Lady Bhakti indeed intend to harm anyone of us, the chances are likely that whomever remain would be the target, as they would be isolated. If things turn to conflict, would it not be more prudent to pool all our strength in ensuring everyone's safety?"</s>	<\|message\|>Celina Kennedy, Lupin When Roma called her out specifically at the start of her long winded bullshit speech, the masked maiden's stare caused Lupin to recoil with a flinch. For whatever reason she could tell her intentions, and it didn't help her win over the wolf girl's trust. In fact, it only made Lupin more ready to attack at the slightest hint of hostility. Tsubasa then went on to state her intentions, which to Celina only boiled down to "The Pageless are innocent, you're the one's to blame, yada yada yada." It was admittedly boring to listen to. Thankfully most of the others seemed to agree, even Stripes spoke up about how utterly stupid Roma's plans were. Lupin looked over to the Tabby when she motioned over to her, but remained quiet. Rose, bless her heart, seemed too oblivous to even take this seriously. The wolf girl gave her and her groom a worried frown. She waited till everyone said their piece. If Ozma's assumption that this was a simulacrum of Moonlight Tsubasa, then someone had to keep a fluffy ear or two out for ambushers. Lupin's ears quirked straight up, twitching here and there like tuning a radio. And she finally spoke up, drawing back her scowl: "Let's think of it like this. If we're supposed to surrender our Grimores; the ones that chose us to wield their power, because you for some reason pity these parasites and blame us for them being bothersome, then why don't you untransform and let them eat your grimore?" She jabbed back at the Celestial. Her tone remained cold. "You say the Pageless obey the strongest, so let's see how they react to you without your power. Unless you're the apparent- Who am I kidding, obvious exception. Wouldn't surprise me if you were a megalomaniac." She shrugged.</s>
<\|description\|>Scri'erk Alias/Nicknames: Ol' fat spider, Trapmaster, webmaster Race: Giant cave Arachnid (Gaint monstrous spider-like bugs used by drow or found sprawling the Underdark. They have long pedipalps for grabbing, mandibles for injecting venom, and a long, thin stinger tail. Combined with a hard carapace and webs, these predators are no pushover! Fortunately, they lack good vision, relying on a very weak tremor sense and primitive eyes. Additionally, they are very combustible, suffering from a vulnerability to fire. Gender: ♀ Background: Scri'erk was born in the wild, dangerous, Underdark amongst dozens of siblings. She scurried off as to not be eaten by her bigger siblings or her mother. Time in the caves was boring and lonely, and those few she met were often trying to kill her or vice versa. When she found Everdark, things were different. Food was more abundant than she could ever imagine. She spent her time lurking the caves and mapping its labyrinthian design in her head. Her mind brimmed with questions about what this once was, and as she reached maturity she set up a couple of webs near the entrance. As the years went on, she would catch plentiful prey: from adventurers to beast to other denizens of the ruins. In time she became known as a barrier from the outside, as her webs alone made any who dared enter the cave easy pickings. Age came with wisdom and though only a decade old, she was already branching out in her trap design. Some of the more pitiful monsters began giving her offers and soon she became a go-to when looking for help warding off enemies. Just hope she isn't too hungry! Personality: Scri'erk is an odd person. Stoic, but genuine, she is mostly just a silent observer at times. When she has to talk she is blunt and straightforward. She isn't one who relies of others and openly dislikes any association with anyone. That said, she isn't against the occasional idle chat here and there. What makes Scri'erk so odd is that she does not have to restrain her primal needs: specifically hunger. She has to be constantly reminded not to eat her friends, and may an offering has ended with someone covered in webbing until she remembers not to eat them. Scri'erk is driven mostly by survival instincts and it shows. Scri'erk likes exploring and fighting, as they are most of what she does these days. Her biggest fear is fire, it takes all the monstrous nature she had right out of her and turns her into a squealing little girl. Similarly, drow has a tendency to unnerve her, since they often take her kind. Appearance: A picture of your character or a written description of what your character looks like, whichever suits you best. Skills: Combat Skill: Venomous bite/sting Non-Combat Skill: Stealth Possessions: Spider bindle. Just kidding, nothing but old bones and rusty chain shirts.</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Lower Levels Dor as Zarroy, @Birdboy as Scri'erk, @SleepingSilence as Dylirius, @Moon Man as the Spore that Speaks and @Gentlemanvaultboy as Yvaine Below the uppermost level of the dungeon are cavernous tunnels leading in all directions, full of bioluminescent fungi and other fauna ripe for harvesting, but to those carelessly wandering it would be easy to miss the silvery outline of webbing near one of the tunnels leading down a level that of the webs made by Scri'erk as she lay in wait for her next meal. It seemed lately her meals were mostly the blood of dark elves, not that it wasn't a bad thing of course as at the moment the arachnid was well-fed. Wandering amongst the fungi was the catlike demon Dylirius, picking a choice mushroom cap here and there unbeknownst to the presence of another, the Spore that Speaks silently tended to the patches of glowing fungus sprouting from the decaying remains of an elf likely another dark elf but it didn't concern it at the very least. Heavy footsteps shook the caves as a lumbering construct stomped down one of the tunnels, and unfortunately right through a web completely ruining the strands of webbing and sending vibrations to the spider that weaved it. Patrolling the area far more carefully than her brethern had Yvaine the dark elf navigated the winding network of passages with ease before coming upon the remains of a recent camp, unmistakably that of her kind. She was sure her people were up to something, but what?</s> <\|message\|>Zarroy (Pronounced Zarr oi) Zarroy was unsure of how long he has been traveling down the tunnels. Sometimes he could walk with great posture other times he had to crawl and pull himself through the openings. He had been given a task by one of the older and wiser denizens to go look for more survivors in a section of Everdark that was further back into the cave network. Zarroy was holding a young goblin that fit fairly well into the palm of his hand. The goblins childish face peeked out into the darkness. "Are you sure this is the right way?" Zarroy was silent for a moment as the single flaming orb in his eye moved from darkness to more darkness, before he started to continue forward. The goblin glanced up at the golem who merely nodded his head. Zarroy knew these tunnels well. After a few more minutes of walking in silence the goblin made a pssssssh noise and flailed its arms about wildly. "I wish you wouldn't do that." The goblin groaned at Zarroy as it was in the process of trying to remove the overly sticky webbing from its face and hair once again. This was only like the seventh web Zarroy had casually waltzed through. The golem chuckled slightly creating a grating noise, as its eye glanced down at his companion. If the goblin had been by himself, he would have had to go the long way around multiple times as he wasn't strong enough to get through the webbings. Soon the duo reached there goal. A small ruined gathering of buildings. Most of the communities in Everdark were unnamed or were only referred to by the most popular building amongst them. This little spot was referred to as Slumbering Lantern as the main buildings light sources seemed to invoke drossiness. The buildings were all ruined and for the most part demolished save for its namesake. Zarroy grabbed one of the fallen walls of a smaller building with three of his four arms and pulled the wall back sending it crashing down with a loud noise and the two waited for the dust to settle as they looked into the remains of the house. Zarroy gently set the goblin down as he moved into the house and kneeled down in front of a body. It looked like a empty medieval suit of armor, except it was crushed inward in parts and the helmet was completely caved in. Zarroy scooped the body up into two of his arms as his eye inspected one of his old friends. The golem had heard about death many times and while he didn't fully comprend it, he knew it was an eternal sleep. The little goblin scurried off deeper into the house to see if there was any survivors as Zarroy was processing his emotions.</s>	<\|message\|>Scri'erk Thin, spindly pedipalps scrapped again the ground around Scri'erk inquisitively probing the areas where her poor vision failed to fill the gaps. Her low hunkered body easily fit into a large gash in the wall where an earth tremor long ago likely split the walls. It hardly mattered to the large bug hiding in her newest trap. A large web she held with her front claws concealed her body and allowed her to use her longer appendages to check her various webs to see if a meal had been caught. She had gone nearly two days now since her last catch. Perhaps she needed to innovate once more. Her train of thought was cut off as around her the earth shook again and again, getting increasingly more intense. Her pedipalps curled in to join the rest of her in fear, she had this happen every couple of weeks or so. All the webs she sprawled out would be ravaged, all because of a foolish denizen of the Everdark. As the tremors reached their crescendo, Scri'erks eyes struggled to watch the bane of her existence bumble on by. As the golem walked by her, Scri'erk scurried after it, eager to give the major pain in her Thorax a piece of her mind. Unfortunately, her low-crawling steps were nothing to the long legs of her adversary and she was struggling to keep up. Only when they stopped in an abandoned house did she reach them. "Broke webs! Traps gone!" Scri'erk rasped. Mimicking language was not something she was great at, but over time she had learned to speak the common tongue of the underdark. Plenty of practice with those stuck in her webs gave her the skill, but it made her throat hoarse to do. "Webs mine! Don't broke!"</s>
<\|description\|>Hecate Alias/Nicknames: N/A Race: Wraith (intangibility, weak telekinesis, flight, vulnerable to magic and magic weapons, advantageous to physical weapons and attacks) Gender: ♀ Background: Hecate was spawned from negative emotions of man and monster alike during a plague in a nearby town, and given form. She has been drifting around the Everdark for years. She got along well enough with the other monsters, as she didn't really take up room or resources. However, she did grow a love for cooking, despite not being able to eat herself, she'd often cook for her friends. During the attack, she made herself scarce, using her intangibility to avoid the adventurers. She was afraid and could feel the fear and anger in the halls as many people she once called friend met a grisly end. Personality: Hecate is timid, and one would assume that the negative emotion she spawned from were mostly fear and sadness. She is soft-spoken, and her expression is usually one of sadness, however she has been seen smiling and enjoying herself too. She has a deep hatred for humans and the other races that thought to raid her home, though she had a distaste with them to begin with. She has a deep hidden anger within her as well, that's just waiting to burst. She is also vastly susceptible to magic and magic weapons, though normal weaponry passes right through her. Appearance: Hecate has the face of a young woman, her face rounded and her eyes an eerie platinum white, just a shade brighter than the rest of herself, which is an ethereal and transparent white. She has long hair that wisps around in the air, the same platinum white as her eyes. She is covered by what appears to be tattered shrouds that hang down to her ankles. She has an eerie beauty to her that's equal parts alluring and repulsive. Skills: Combat Skill: Icy wind (A gust of freezing, bitter wind. Flurries and small shards of ice are present in the wind and can graze those she aims it at. Non-Combat Skill: Cooking Possessions: N/A</s> <\|message\|>Mortimer Costello Interacting with: @RogueFox@Shadow Dragon "I understand your concern with others..." It was a known fact that not all the denizens of the Everdark were amicable to one another. Some even were outright hostile. "but isn't it a good sign that he hasn't attacked us or even threatened us on sight?" It was around this point that he 'felt' the vampire take his hand and gives it a polite shake and explain to the duo that his magic will only affect those with blood. "No doubt about that sir vampire, but I'm sure you are powerful in your own way." Rather than turn his body away from the hemomancer vampire, the skeleton simply opts to turn his head 180° with his free hand to face the worrywart wraith. Attempting reassure her that the vampire was more of a potential friend than a potential foe. "See, Hecate? He seems a decent enough individual. Give the guy a chance." Twisting his head back to face the vampire, one could observe that the blue motes of flame inside his eye sockets shape themselves into downward crescents. As if to notify the vampire that the bug-infested skeleton was rather happy. "I take it that this means that we would be travelling together for the foreseeable future?" And maybe even beyond that; as he'd be sure that the vampire also had a vendetta to be settled against those adventurers.</s> <\|message\|>Hecate Interacting with: @Shadow Dragon @Searat Hecate, upon seeing the vampire's interaction with Mortimer, and hearing that his magic can't effect her, she visibly loosened up. She floated out from behind Mortimer. "I... I will give him a chance." She looked between the two, and though they weren't the company she used to keep, she felt comfort in no longer being alone. "Yes, we will, I suppose... but to what end? I was hoping to find survivors and rebuild the Everdark.... I have had no luck in finding anyone... She let out another mournful sob as ethereal tears fell from her eyes and dissipated before making it halfway to the ground. "Are your plans similar, sirs?" Hecate attempted to stiffen her upper lip, but sorrow remained evident on her face as she reminisced of the goblins and other monsters she had seen as family. Some Lamias, cave trolls, and even more were among her now deceased friends. She used to cook meals for them from the meats they harvested from rats, small fish, and the rare adventurer who had journeyed too far alone. She cried yet again, realizing that even now she won't be able to cook for her new companions.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch What was that? Yvain poked her head out of the barren tent. Sound carried far in the Evardark, and the echo she caught bouncing out of one of the nearby tunnels was as fain as it was unmistakable. The chaotic clangs of blade on blade combat. Between who was the question. She darted forward, scooping her torch out of the spent campfire and sprinted down the tunnel towards the source. Who? Who? She had to keep herself from calling out. The fact that both were humanoid narrowed down the list of who it could be, but those possibilities were still enough to scare her into silence. It could be a survivor from her unit, of course, but it could also be one of the adventurers. One that was still hanging around, or had gotten lost, or had just had so much fun then were still looking for a challenge. The image of the giant, musclebound beast of a half-orc that had brought the pommel of his great sword down directly on her helmet and ruined it came to mind. Finding one of the full orc mercenaries the dungeons boss had hired on might be even worse. At least she could be sure that the the adventurers probably wouldn't eat her after she was done. It could be a mad skeleton who was off its magic chain and angry at the living. It could be a animated armor stuck in battle mode. It could be two goblin fighting over a patch of mushroom. The number of thing it could be besides a survivor was astoundingly large and almost everything else would probably want her dead. It turned out to be more other dark elves. The sounds of battle stopped as she approached, replaced with voices. She slowed down, creeping forward so as not to let them know she was approaching. They were speaking her language but she didn't recognize either of the voices. There was a heart shaking sound of cutting, followed by something splattering to the floor. The winner had the voice and the laugh of a madman, enough so to freeze Yvain in place. She drew her sword, slowly, quietly, waiting for the sound of his footsteps to come her way. Instead they pattered away in the opposite direction, down one of the many tunnels, and Yvain let out the breath she had been holding in. The cavern she stepped into was illuminated only by the light of a single lantern, but even still she could make out a form slumped against the far wall. He was breathing raggedly, using his final breaths to speak kindly to weapon discarded on the floor. Breathing. Breathing! Still alive! She rushed across the room, kneeling next to the fallen man. She felt something soaking into her knees. A lot of something. Enough something to know that first aide wasn't an option for anything short of magic, and unfortunately enough their resident Cleric had been the first one to go when the adventurers swept through. She didn't panic. Death by other Dark Elf was unfortunately a common occurrence where she was from. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "Yvain, Cry Wolves. You guys were probably here because of me. What happened?" Light</s> <\|message\|>Vinashy Interacting with:@Searat and @RogueFox "Indeed. Those 'heros'-" He spits the word out like a curse, "-burchered helpless residents of this cave network. I want them to suffer, to writhe in agony the way they made your friends. They deserve it for all they've done to you. Make them weap, fill them with the sorrow you yourself feel this very moment." He raises his arms in the air, beckoning them to him. "Join me in a quest of vengeance. They wish to kill for sport? Let's show them how it feels to be hunted."</s> <\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "Oh" The sword thought in a contemplative silence as the large eye in its hilt split open and rolled to gaze upon its dying wielder. It could hear his words but could not reply since they were no longer in contact. What would it say anyway. The fragile creature was expiring. As they often did. "Perhaps I should have done something?" It mused, trying to understand why it hadn't felt like doing more. Meanwhile it just watched as the dying drow's life essence steadily escape him, a pool of blood growing larger around him ever slowly creeping closer and closer to the weapon. Then a new figure emerged. The weapon had already been aware of her presence but could now physically see her form as she knelt over the dying dark elf. Curious. He found her actions to be of interest and continued to watch on intently. His wide yellow eye very occasionally blinking.</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk Dor Spider. That's what it came up with, what a disgustingly uncouth thing to mistake her for. As the golem reached down to pet her, Scri'erk instinctively caught the hand with her vicious claws, trying in vain to snip away at the stone. A series of slanderous hisses and grunts in her native tongue erupted from the spider before she managed to speak a more intelligible speech. "Not well! Broke web! Not well!"</s> <\|message\|>Mortimer Costello Interacting with: @RogueFox@Shadow Dragon "Oh I plan on doing both." Mort said with all seriousness he could muster. "The Everdark is my home now and I have no intention of leaving it as a ruin...but my metaphorical heart is utterly engulfed with the fires of vengeance and nothing short of seeing them being eaten alive by my insects would abate the flames. So, why won't we kill two birds with one stone?" The infested skeleton then gestures to the general area of the dungeon. "If we pursued them now, at our current state, we would nary accomplish anything than to add to the dead. And without a proper home and community like we had before, the next group of those bastard adventurers can easily destroy us even before we could even get anywhere near strong enough to take our vengeance." The skeleton then holds up a finger to punctuate his suggestion. "Therefore I propose that we rebuild the Everdark, better than what it was before, and in the process get stronger and stronger as we nurture this gestating nation of monsters. Fending it from threats within and without and when the time comes, and it will come, we march our armies to the surface and repay them in kind." Mortimer pauses as he revels of what carnage they will wreak upon the surface. "So...what say you my new friends?"</s> <\|message\|>Zarroy (Pronounced Zarr oi) Interacting with: @Birdboy When Zarroys hand was caught by Scri'erk his eye seemed to brighten with joy. He didn't see her actions as an attack because it felt like she was tickling his palm. Then to top off the stone cake with the rock cherry on top he got to listen to a symphony of noises that the golem surely felt was a song of her people. "Not well! Broke web! Not well!" Not well? Thought Zarroy. He withdrew his hand to his side not really noticing if he drug Scri'erk who was still resisting his affection. He glanced down at the Trapmaster not noticing any wounds on her. Strange... Can spiders get colds? He rubbed his chin in thought as a small voice came from within the ruined home. "Ma....Ma....Master Tr..Trapmaster" Came the timid voice of the young goblin. The young goblin hopefully caught her attention distracting her away from her bumbling yet well meaning companion. The goblins of Everdark had long since used Scri'erk as a creature of worship using her when possible to get rid of their problems by evading her webs and luring their pursuers into her webs. "The denizen here had a large food storage of meat, if it is to your liking.." The small goblin pointed towards what was once a food storage that was well packed with not just meat, but herbs, and other things. "Zarroy and I, Ginto were sent by Isatar to look for Survivors down here. I don't know if you know Master Trapmaster, but most of Everdark is currently in ruins.." ----------- Zarroy had not be kneeling idly while this conversation was going on. He had noticed when he ran his hand down his chest a lot of ruined webbing. He had begun the process of peeling the pebble laden webbing off and applying it to the opening that had gotten them to the Slumbering Lantern. After a few minutes of work he backed away from his creation. If it were not for the fact that Scri'erk's webbing was really strong this makeshift web (and the term is being used loosely here) probably would not have stopped a strong gust of wind. Zarroy's top arms crossed while his bottom arms rested happily on his hips proud of his work. He would have to show Scri'erk his handiwork and hopefully this would make his friend well.</s>	<\|message\|>Hecate Hecate listened to Mortimer's speech, visibly shaken by his sincerity, and by the bravery he and Vinashy were showing. She shook her head with a mournful expression. I do not know what kind of help I could be with fighting adventurers. I am not very strong... Though, rebuilding the Everdark is something I very much would like to do. I have not yet traveled deeper into the dungeon... mayhaps we head that way to search for more survivors...?" She gazed at her brave companions, feeling a little more hopeful than she had just 5 minutes ago.</s>
<\|description\|>Vinashy Alias/Nicknames: Bloodborne Race: Bloodmage (minor vampire) (for now) Gender: ♂ Background: He came to the dungeon in search of new hunting grounds to stave off his endless thirst for living blood. He hates holy magic with a passion, always attacking them first, often without thinking. If he goes too long without feeding, it can send him into a blood frenzy where he attempts to attack and drain anything nearby. The other monster living in the dungeon are sorted into three categories in his mind: magical, powerful, and prey. Personality: Hungry, cruel to trespassers. An ally to the other in the dungeon, unless you betray them. Then you're worse then dead. Appearance: Well versed in blood magics (i.e. blood rituals) In future (summoning blood elementals, controlling the blood in a living body, ect) Alchemy (potions, poisons, herbs, ect) Blood ruital book, unholy symbols, robe with hidden pockets where he hides his stuff, blood blade</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Searching Crypts @RogueFox @Shadow Dragon In the dusty corpse ridden halls of Everdark's upper half, the trio would find no living survivors other than rodents and other vermin picking corpses clean of their flesh. Vinashy was unfortunately the only one with olfactory senses so the smell of pustulant rotting flesh assailed his nostrils, but it was nothing the blood ritualist couldn't handle. Some bits and pieces of broken weapons littered the floors nearby the bodies, some had the irreparable vestige of armor clinging to their remains. But between the buzzing of flies suddenly came the sound of brisk and rapidly recedeing footsteps, whoever it was they were in a hurry to get away. It sounded like whoever or whatever the footfalls belonged to were anxious to flee to the deeper portion of the dungeon.</s> <\|message\|>Mortimer Costello Interacting with: @RogueFox@Shadow Dragon "More of the same..." Mortimer says as they wandered deeper into the dungeon's halls. He'd note that he should bury their dead after they establish a base of sorts. Just felt wrong to just leave them there rotting with the bodies of those horrid adventurers. But what caught his full attention was the sound of footfalls that weren't his nor the vampire's echoing through the halls as it grew fainter and fainter as the being that caused it went deeper into the dungeon. Mortimer called out but it seemed that he reacted too late. The sound of footsteps had gone so distant that he couldn't hear them any longer. "I'm sure that I wasn't the only one who heard that. We ought to follow them...but keep your guards up. We don't know if they're hostile or not." He was feeling a little more confident than when he was all alone but confidence would nary hinder an attacker's blade. Better to be prepared for the worst rather than getting caught with your metaphorical pants down.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch So they were getting close. Yaaaaay. She wished she had some general idea of how strong the man they were pursuing actually was. Well, actually, she did: strong enough that he killed a whole scout force by himself. She could only hope he had done that through subterfuge and surprise, because if he hadn't she was just going to have to rely on getting the drop on him or getting lucky. It was a good thing, then, that she was "blessed" with an inordinate supply of good luck. To take her mind off that she focused on the question...sword, she guessed... had asked her. "Opera isn't a place, it's a performance. Entertainment. Like a play, but every word is sung. And it's sung in old Elvish, so most of us younger delves have to read the plot in a book before it starts. It was pretty, but it wasn't her thing. Mostly old legends about war and romance, betrayal and revenge. A whole lot of betrayal and revenge. "There was Mourning Lily. It was stabbed into the heart of a Matriarch and froze her in magic sleep, so her favorite concubine had to go on and arduous quest to find a way to break the spell. I'm pretty sure that one was just an allegory. Most of them are. Tusk was this wicked sword wielded by the queen of the hobgoblins that inflicted wounds that never stopped hurting. Crownseeker was an sword that was used so many times in coups and assassinations that it developed a taste for noble blood. Durenadal was used by the king of the High Elves during the great war thousands of years ago, some unbreakable hold sword that could never be defeated, but the first Queen managed to seduce the king and steal it. That one I think is real. I heard it was locked up in the palace vault somewhere." Light</s> <\|message\|>Phaid Phaid the Bullywug kept his slow pace as he approached the furry medicine man and the mushroom man. After the events of a few weeks ago, Phaid and all the remaining Bullywugs had learned to avoid anyone they didn't know. But Phaid considered himself a brave creature, at least for a Bullywug. He was still embarrassed over his actions during the massacre that happened in the Everdark a few weeks back. When Phaid and some fellow Bullywugs first got wind of the slaughter, their fight or flight instinct kicked in. They decided on flight, retreating to the deep water tunnels of their domain. The frog-men would hide in this submerged section of the dungeon for several days, praying that whatever was killing the other creatures wasn't amphibious. It had been a low point for Phaid, the so called Puddle Knight. When the hidden Bullywugs did finally return to the surface of the dungeon, they found most of their kin slain, just a few feet away from the water's edge. Since then, the Bullywugs had stayed close to their watery home. They had not wanted to go and see how the other races were affected by the slaughtered, worried minds wondering if the goblin clan survived and would once again attack them. Or what happened to the Dark Elves, Undead, or other powerful beings who ran large portions of the Everdark. But as Phaid approached the two creatures, he wondered if the massacre hadn't been as bad if these ones survived it. But Phaid didn't appear to be the only antsy away, leaving a fog of yellow spores. Phaid thought that he was more imposing than he thought, only for a spore to touch his nose, causing it to go numb. But before any more of the spores could reach Phaid, the furry medicine man handed him some sort of vegetable, telling him to suck out its innards. Phaid wondered if this was a free first taste, so he did as instructed, a slime leaving the plant and coating his throat. As he did this, Phaid no longer felt the numbness as the spores landed on him. The medicine man then told him to keep the plant in his mouth if he wished to breathe and speak. Phaid quickly realized that this wasn't a free first hit, but rather to do away with what the mushroom man had done. He figured that the bitter tasting slime should of been a giveaway. Phaid naturally moved the plant around in his mouth, always keeping it secreting. "Thanks for whatever this is," said Phaid with some trouble as he tried to keep the plant firmly in his mouth, "But do you have any of those spotted flowers, the ones that can take you to the dream plane? I have trinkets to trade for it." What Phaid didn't mention was that these trinkets had been looted from the bodies of fellow Bullywugs. After so many died in the massacre, they could at least continue to benefit the clan. And by that Phaid meant benefit himself, the definite next head of the clan, especially since most of the competition had died. [Interacting with: @SleepingSilence]</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk Dor Scri'erk could be ornery but she had the ability to listen to reason. She had heard rumors that the golem's mind had been addled. Worse yet, looking at it's heaping size she could not deny that perhaps it would be hard for someone of their stature to move out of the way of her webs. That was the point really, to get people to touch them. Putting her grudges aside she let reason win this time. The tasty goblin seemed to interject before Scri'erk could find a reason to be mad again. They were hoping to go deeper into the everdark; a dangerous proposition. Luckily between Scri'erk's deadly poison's and Zarroy's strength they had nothing to be afraid of. "Danger! Goblin ride on Zarroy" She said as she took the lead, prodding into the dark abyss before them with her mandibles. In other circumstances she would allow the small humanoid to ride her own carapaced back. With Zarroy with them, however, she felt the morsel would be much safer away from her own greedy mandibles. Already she could feel them frothing again in hunger. Perhaps there would be a meal for her in the next town.</s> <\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "Hmm" Was all the sword said, short and sharp. Amused even. For a moment it seemed like it was going to speak again, to share its thoughts, but it didn't. After a small walk in silence where the sword replied to nothing, it suddenly and urgently blurted. "Stop!" Then, ignoring the urgency of its past words it casually continued. "Tell me of this crown seeker, what did it look like?"</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch Yvain froze like mid step, like a cat that had been caught sneaking up on someone and wasn't sure whether it should charge forward or retreat. They had come to a hallway of dilapidated stonework, crude barricades of piled stone constructed at either end that menaced with large wooden spikes where the ravages of time hadn't caused them to rot away or snap under their own weight. A tattered banner lay draped over one of them, a brown skull cackling at her. Beyond the barricade, through a small gap that gave entry, she could see moldering tarps piled on the ground that may have once been tents. Enough for two dozen men at least. Among they lay scattered bones and old brown stains. An orcish warband, maybe? She had heard they painted their banners in the blood of their foes. Who were they? The Everdark was old, and it was witness to more deaths than even her ancient mother. They could have been an enemy raid, or mercenaries hired by the dungeons master? Had they been killed by adventurers, like the others, or the residents? They could have even been the victims of an inter-faction spat within the Everdark itself, as sometimes happened. Who could say? Her minecart of thought was derailed as Sword asked her another question. In the opera. It was big, with a long silver blade and an ornate black hilt set with rubies. It was beautiful. She thought back to a few of the assassins that had been sent by her sisters. I never thought it looked right. It was too big. It took an age to swing, you would see it coming from a mile away. If a sword like that really exited I always thought it would be more subtle. Old. And really, really sharp. Light</s> <\|message\|>Dylirius Interacting With: @Martian His smiling face had yet to show any signs of distress. Though the truth is, he would've rather choked and died, than continue to smell what lingered on the bullywug's breath. So the secreting stem had yet another intentional benefit to Dylirius, as it eliminated the foul odor entirely. "Oh, of course." Dylirius replied, with a friendly smile. Dismissing what was in their mouths as casually as the warrior did, when he failed to share his name. Now stuck in place where his footpaws stood. As any movements that Dylirius did make, would uncomfortably tingle and sting like a scorpion's tail. "And I could give you those flowers-" The cat reiterated with emphasis. "But while we're both standing here. Perhaps I could interest you in something more—potent. For someone of greater stature." Dylirius offered, with his sales pitch prepared. "Either way. You're certainly not going to find a better resource to get high, in all of the Everdark." Dylirius asserted confidently. Knowing that those particular flowers and other rarer materials within the Everdark, had been pilfered by whatever humans managed to escape after the massacre. Meaning he'd be lucky to even scavenge some withered-up petals from others' corpses. And the last thing you would want, after taking strong mind-altering substances, is the modest reduction of a quality rush. Thus, Dylirius waited to see if the bullywug was interested in his wares. Ready to move and make the deal between them at the very second, once Spore's effects wore off. With the good chance that Dylirius would be able to move before his uncustomed customer would be. Even if it was only a slight difference. Given how frequently inflicted he had been by the Spore's effects. Both through natural circumstances and risky experimentation done on his own. Not that Dylirius would ever make that obvious, when interacting with his skittish companion. Having no desire to worry him deliberately. "I'll take whatever you can give me, in exchange for creating your payment." Dylirius acknowledged, with his eyes briefly looking up and to the right. Better to use junk items than my own mana reserves. He thought, before his glowing amber gaze focused on the frog. "But know that alchemy tends to emulate what is sacrificed." Dylirius noted with a scholarly tone. "Therefore, for your own sake, if you want something good. You need to give me something good." Dylirius clarified, in hopes that Phaid understood that his offers had consequences.</s>	<\|message\|>Vinashy He draws a long, bright red sword, the light shifting and wavering around it. "No idea, but if it attacks, then it dies." He spins the strange blade, motes of red light, like drops of blood dripping off the edge. "So many dead.......it seems unreal. How did such a small group cause so much death? How powerful were these adventurers?" He frowns, kneeling beside another corpse, and feeling it. "Still warm. He must have died recently."</s>
<\|description\|>Yvaine Arioch Alias/Nicknames: Her? Race: Dark Elf (Darkvison) Gender: ♀ Background: The twelfth daughter of a Dark Elf noblewoman and considered a thoroughly useless child by her mother and siblings. However, several assassination attempts by her siblings have proven that she has an uncanny ability to survive life threatening situations and, seeking to turn this into prestige for her family, pressured the girl into signing up for Cry Wolf dungeon defense corp. The Cry Wolves are part of a deal struck with the dungeon boss, where Dark Elven soldiers would be provided to guard the dungeon in a show of cooperation between the Everdark and the Dark Elf settlement. Unofficially, it was where you sent the kids you didn't need to earn the house some glory and then hopefully die to a band of adventurers. Yvain, unfortunately, beat the odds again when she was knocked unconscious during this latest and most successful of invasions. When she awoke she found herself to be the only Cry Wolf left alive. She is obliged, then, to remain at her post in the Evardark and maintain a Dark Elven presence in the dungeon until some fresh young recruits could be sent to reinforce her, which her mother has assured her are coming "soon" and that they are "definitely working on it." Personality: "By the book," is the way that Yvain leads her life, though that's mostly a crutch. So long as she follows the rules to the letter people might not cotton on to her not having any real idea what she's doing. She fluctuates between trying to put on a good face and maintaining the quiet dignity expected of an elf and jumping at shadows due to the paranoia beaten into her by her siblings attempts on her life. Appearance: Skills: * Combat Skill: Weapon Focus: Scimitar * Non-Combat Skill: Trap Making - In addition to their guard duties the Cry Wolves where also expected to create and maintain the traps in their area of the dungeon. Possessions: Standard Issue Scimitar, Standard Issue Bullwhip, Standard Issue Armor, Standard Issue Bola (3)</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Lower Levels Dor as Zarroy, @Birdboy as Scri'erk, @SleepingSilence as Dylirius, @Moon Man as the Spore that Speaks and @Gentlemanvaultboy as Yvaine Below the uppermost level of the dungeon are cavernous tunnels leading in all directions, full of bioluminescent fungi and other fauna ripe for harvesting, but to those carelessly wandering it would be easy to miss the silvery outline of webbing near one of the tunnels leading down a level that of the webs made by Scri'erk as she lay in wait for her next meal. It seemed lately her meals were mostly the blood of dark elves, not that it wasn't a bad thing of course as at the moment the arachnid was well-fed. Wandering amongst the fungi was the catlike demon Dylirius, picking a choice mushroom cap here and there unbeknownst to the presence of another, the Spore that Speaks silently tended to the patches of glowing fungus sprouting from the decaying remains of an elf likely another dark elf but it didn't concern it at the very least. Heavy footsteps shook the caves as a lumbering construct stomped down one of the tunnels, and unfortunately right through a web completely ruining the strands of webbing and sending vibrations to the spider that weaved it. Patrolling the area far more carefully than her brethern had Yvaine the dark elf navigated the winding network of passages with ease before coming upon the remains of a recent camp, unmistakably that of her kind. She was sure her people were up to something, but what?</s> <\|message\|>Zarroy (Pronounced Zarr oi) Zarroy was unsure of how long he has been traveling down the tunnels. Sometimes he could walk with great posture other times he had to crawl and pull himself through the openings. He had been given a task by one of the older and wiser denizens to go look for more survivors in a section of Everdark that was further back into the cave network. Zarroy was holding a young goblin that fit fairly well into the palm of his hand. The goblins childish face peeked out into the darkness. "Are you sure this is the right way?" Zarroy was silent for a moment as the single flaming orb in his eye moved from darkness to more darkness, before he started to continue forward. The goblin glanced up at the golem who merely nodded his head. Zarroy knew these tunnels well. After a few more minutes of walking in silence the goblin made a pssssssh noise and flailed its arms about wildly. "I wish you wouldn't do that." The goblin groaned at Zarroy as it was in the process of trying to remove the overly sticky webbing from its face and hair once again. This was only like the seventh web Zarroy had casually waltzed through. The golem chuckled slightly creating a grating noise, as its eye glanced down at his companion. If the goblin had been by himself, he would have had to go the long way around multiple times as he wasn't strong enough to get through the webbings. Soon the duo reached there goal. A small ruined gathering of buildings. Most of the communities in Everdark were unnamed or were only referred to by the most popular building amongst them. This little spot was referred to as Slumbering Lantern as the main buildings light sources seemed to invoke drossiness. The buildings were all ruined and for the most part demolished save for its namesake. Zarroy grabbed one of the fallen walls of a smaller building with three of his four arms and pulled the wall back sending it crashing down with a loud noise and the two waited for the dust to settle as they looked into the remains of the house. Zarroy gently set the goblin down as he moved into the house and kneeled down in front of a body. It looked like a empty medieval suit of armor, except it was crushed inward in parts and the helmet was completely caved in. Zarroy scooped the body up into two of his arms as his eye inspected one of his old friends. The golem had heard about death many times and while he didn't fully comprend it, he knew it was an eternal sleep. The little goblin scurried off deeper into the house to see if there was any survivors as Zarroy was processing his emotions.</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk Thin, spindly pedipalps scrapped again the ground around Scri'erk inquisitively probing the areas where her poor vision failed to fill the gaps. Her low hunkered body easily fit into a large gash in the wall where an earth tremor long ago likely split the walls. It hardly mattered to the large bug hiding in her newest trap. A large web she held with her front claws concealed her body and allowed her to use her longer appendages to check her various webs to see if a meal had been caught. She had gone nearly two days now since her last catch. Perhaps she needed to innovate once more. Her train of thought was cut off as around her the earth shook again and again, getting increasingly more intense. Her pedipalps curled in to join the rest of her in fear, she had this happen every couple of weeks or so. All the webs she sprawled out would be ravaged, all because of a foolish denizen of the Everdark. As the tremors reached their crescendo, Scri'erks eyes struggled to watch the bane of her existence bumble on by. As the golem walked by her, Scri'erk scurried after it, eager to give the major pain in her Thorax a piece of her mind. Unfortunately, her low-crawling steps were nothing to the long legs of her adversary and she was struggling to keep up. Only when they stopped in an abandoned house did she reach them. "Broke webs! Traps gone!" Scri'erk rasped. Mimicking language was not something she was great at, but over time she had learned to speak the common tongue of the underdark. Plenty of practice with those stuck in her webs gave her the skill, but it made her throat hoarse to do. "Webs mine! Don't broke!"</s> <\|message\|>Zarroy (Pronounced Zarr oi) Zarroy's rough hand rubbed against the caved in helmet. He really did not understand why the adventurers had to come and make his friends disappear. This suit of armor was a living being that had been a force for justice around Everdark, a friend and stalwart champion to all. His name was Bartholomew and Zarroy could never call him by it often getting lost half way through his name. It made for a funny interaction between the two, but it was one Zarroy would have to place within a memory because it would happen no more. "Broke webs! Traps gone!" Scri'erk rasped. As Zarroy heard a familiar voice in it's familiar tone, he slightly turned his head as his sole fiery eye focused on the large spider. If the onyx golem could smile it would. He stood up and turned to face his friend. "Webs mine! Don't broke!" "Friend Sci.....Srii...Scii....SPIDER!!" Zarroy's voice echoed outward from his face despite the lack of a mouth. He lumbered quickly towards Scri'erk stopping in front of the spider and bending down to be closer to it and tilted his head much like a puppy would and reached his hand out in an effort to pet the spider. "Have you been well?"</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Meanwhile Above... as Hecate, @Shadow Dragon as Vinashy and @Searat as Mortimer Far removed from the patchwork of tunnels below, Everdark stood silent it's halls littered with the remains of the fallen all in various stages of decay. No noise permeated the dark corridors until a slight clickety-clack broke the silence as a lone skeleton wandered the lonely expanse of a narrow passageway intersecting in a forked path leading towards the crypts and the old goblin territory, a faint mournful cry drifted from one of the barren crypts that of a womans voice. Deep in the long abandoned goblin territory stalked a handsome looking man with pale skin yet his fair looks were marred by the red hungry looking eyes he had darting around the dirty room once occupied by goblinoids, his keen vision spotting a rodent scurrying across the floor.</s> <\|message\|>Hecate Hecate floated gently through the crypts. The decaying bodies of her friends filled her with sorrow and she let out another cry. She sighed and moved on, right through a wall. As she emerged on the other side, she saw a man she wanted to avoid at all costs. She had seen him performing rituals before, and magic terrified her. She turned around and went the opposite way, hoping that she wasn't spotted. Before long, she ran into a skeleton rattling through the halls. "Oh. Hello there." Her voice was quiet and soft, almost difficult to hear. She ascended a little to be out of reach of any attacks, she had been attacked a few times by strangers, though it wasn't too often. A wraith could never be too careful. "I'm not sure we've ever met. My name is Hecate." Her soft voice trailed through the near silent halls.</s> <\|message\|>Vinashy Vinashy drops down from a ledge, holding out a hand. His finger crooks, a large rat forcibly yanked over into his awaiting claw like hand. He sinks his fangs into the treat, draining it dry. Then, dropping the limp corpse, he casually seems to glide over the ground towards the wall where he saw that wraith dart over to. His voice is soothing, enticing. "I saw you girl. Come on out. I just want to talk." He licks his lips, feeling his endless thirst for living blood sated for the moment from the most recent wave of 'heroes' to come though the dark tunnels. He holds out one hand, and a glowing symbol forms above his palm, twisting the light to a bright crimson. He smiles, fangs flashing in the ruby glow of his magic.</s>	<\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch Yvain felt her heart sink as the the flame of her torch illuminated the face of another dark elf tangled up in the webbing. She sighed, pulling out a small lost and rubbing out the name Vinten with her thumb.. He had been a funny one, useless and foppish but seemingly happy to be away from the vipers nest of the capital. He had been some minor nobility like her, some fifth son of a third aunt, and would entertain the others at mealtime by playing a flute he had carved from a broken piece of bedframe. She sighed. "How many of you lot ran this way?" She asked nobody. The vast majority of the names on her list were now little more than blackened blobs and she could probably mark her passage through the corridors with thumbprints. Many of them had been the names of men, and not for the first time she insisted to herself that those barely even counted as people. Like all the times before the truism didn't bring her any comfort. She hadn't exactly been close with any of them (that was hard to achieve when you seemed to strike terror into their hearts if you stood up too quickly) but she had consistently found them to be better company than any of her sisters. The silence in the barracks now was deafening enough to send her out into the dungeon itself, a faint hope burning in her breast that some intrepid coward among them had found a hideaway within the twisting corridors of the Everdark. Her list of names attested to the futility of her search. At this point she was convinced that the few still listed were only so because they had been totally devoured by some other denizen of the dungeon. Even now she could hear the voices of likely culprits echoing through the caverns as she marched on. She didn't stop to take Vinten, didn't dare disturb the web. It was as honorable a resting place as any down here. You live by the spider, you die by the spider. As she continued, however, she was startled to find the faces of Delvs she didn't recognize. She followed the trail of bodies to a crude campsite that had clearly been set by her own people. "No way." She said aloud, just to hear a voice, as she started picking through the remnants of the camp. "You actually sent somebody?" She had been sending messages by carrier bat every time she had managed to catch one of the little buggers fluttering back to the shattered remains of a barracks bat coop. She had gotten one reply so far, a vague and rather dismissive message promising to reinforce her position, but if this was her reinforcements than it looked like she was out of luck unless she found some evidence of Delvs that hadn't wound up on the bottom of the dungeons food chain already.</s>
<\|description\|>Yvaine Arioch Alias/Nicknames: Her? Race: Dark Elf (Darkvison) Gender: ♀ Background: The twelfth daughter of a Dark Elf noblewoman and considered a thoroughly useless child by her mother and siblings. However, several assassination attempts by her siblings have proven that she has an uncanny ability to survive life threatening situations and, seeking to turn this into prestige for her family, pressured the girl into signing up for Cry Wolf dungeon defense corp. The Cry Wolves are part of a deal struck with the dungeon boss, where Dark Elven soldiers would be provided to guard the dungeon in a show of cooperation between the Everdark and the Dark Elf settlement. Unofficially, it was where you sent the kids you didn't need to earn the house some glory and then hopefully die to a band of adventurers. Yvain, unfortunately, beat the odds again when she was knocked unconscious during this latest and most successful of invasions. When she awoke she found herself to be the only Cry Wolf left alive. She is obliged, then, to remain at her post in the Evardark and maintain a Dark Elven presence in the dungeon until some fresh young recruits could be sent to reinforce her, which her mother has assured her are coming "soon" and that they are "definitely working on it." Personality: "By the book," is the way that Yvain leads her life, though that's mostly a crutch. So long as she follows the rules to the letter people might not cotton on to her not having any real idea what she's doing. She fluctuates between trying to put on a good face and maintaining the quiet dignity expected of an elf and jumping at shadows due to the paranoia beaten into her by her siblings attempts on her life. Appearance: Skills: * Combat Skill: Weapon Focus: Scimitar * Non-Combat Skill: Trap Making - In addition to their guard duties the Cry Wolves where also expected to create and maintain the traps in their area of the dungeon. Possessions: Standard Issue Scimitar, Standard Issue Bullwhip, Standard Issue Armor, Standard Issue Bola (3)</s> <\|message\|>Hecate Hecate listened to Mortimer's speech, visibly shaken by his sincerity, and by the bravery he and Vinashy were showing. She shook her head with a mournful expression. I do not know what kind of help I could be with fighting adventurers. I am not very strong... Though, rebuilding the Everdark is something I very much would like to do. I have not yet traveled deeper into the dungeon... mayhaps we head that way to search for more survivors...?" She gazed at her brave companions, feeling a little more hopeful than she had just 5 minutes ago.</s> <\|message\|>The Spore that Speaks Interacting with @SleepingSilence The Spore that Speaks was so busy admiring the view that it did not notice the tiny lesser demon approach. How long had it been since a scene like this unfolded before it. Though it may seem like a large mushroom forest to some it was simply an attempt to return things to how they were. The Everdark was a colorful once, the floors and walls which Spore roamed were littered with all types of fauna. Then the invaders came, bringing with them torches and bombs. Everything that Spore had created, its life's work, gone in a bright orange flash. Luckily it was familiar with all the nooks and crannies of the Everdark otherwise it too would have been charred and turned to dust. It was brought back to reality by a familiar voice. Spore normally flinches and immediately releases paralyzing dust the moment it gets startled but it had gotten used to such surprises from this particular fellow. The first few times where, not so pleasant to say the least. Mainly for the lesser demon. Getting paralyzed wasn't such a big deal, it was the fact that Spore was quite sluggish so the continuous release of paralyzing dust as it shuffled away may cause the one affected to be incapacitated for nearly an hour or two. It slowly turned around to face its visitor. Shaking the large cap on its head, a fine silvery dust began to spread. "Hello…Dylirius…" It said, communicating slowly through the thousands of minuscule spores that it spread. A chorus of sounds all coming together to form a single, baritone voice. "Thank…you…" It reached down on the barren spot where the lesser demon buried a pawful of stalks. Curling its fingers, the arm slowly rose up and a larger number of mushrooms sprouted. A loud growl echoed through the halls where Dylirius had come from causing Spore to jump in shock. "What… was… that…?" It asked its furry friend. Its small, pinlike pupils trembling in fear. It suddenly moved and grabbed a handful of yellow, string shaped mushrooms and handed it to the lesser demon. They were called Sun Wisps, because of the color and the shape of it looked like the radiating flames of the sun. A natural antidote to the paralyzing dust that Spore releases. "I'll… go… hide… Give me… signal…" It said before closing its eyes and leaning against a wall, now perfectly camouflaged with the rest of the room.</s> <\|message\|>Dylirius Interacting with: @Moon Man Dylirius' lack of caution and friendliness was apparent from the moment when he had first introduced himself to Spore. Since this otherwise-immobilized demon had managed to carry on a conversation, with the help of a herb stem tip, dripping an anti-paralysis substance inside of his maw. But surely the Myconid must've wondered; 'if the cat was already prepared for this to happen. He shouldn't have come so close, or had something stronger ready to ingest.' Yet Dylirius sounded so happy to be experiencing 'such a potent numbness spreading across his entire body'. In his own words. Before proceeding to speak intimately about his alchemy and altruistic goals until - and long after - he was freed from the paralyzing spores. Only remembering to share his name at the very end of their encounter. With a visual change that occurred every subsequent visit—disguising the natural candlelight glow of his eyes. Realizing that his flickering gaze might've resembled those intruders' torches, or their accursed light spells. Because better not to be reminded of one's tragic past, yes? So it was no surprise to see him standing nearby, without any apprehension. Admiring his friend's green thumb, as the tiny airborne particles began to dance around them. "Oh. It's a great privilege to watch you work." Dylirius noted spiritedly. With his paw soon fidgeting with the leather straps of his triangular crystal necklace. So realistic in its swaying movements, and even how it felt to touch, that it was too easy to forget that all of it was a part of his artificial ensemble. Quick to clear his throat and tone down the zeal in his voice. "Ahem. I mean. You make it look so simple-" He asserted. Not able to finish his calmer comment, before his stomach provided a swift rebuttal. Prompting the lesser demon to raise his paws up, once he was handed the stringy mushrooms. "Oh my deepest apologies, but you misunderstand." Dylirus appealed, while putting his paws back onto his belly. "There's no reason to fear my stomach's rumblings." He assured his camouflaged companion. "It's just one of my test-stage brews happened to vastly increase my appetite." Dylirus elaborated with an averted gaze, and his paw rubbing underneath his chin in deliberation. Perhaps more so than I originally intended… He thought, with a feeling of something being on the tip of his tongue. As Dylirius abruptly turned to face the tunnel that led closer to the giant spider's lair. "But I don't wish to startle you further. So I will go elsewhere and let my innards settle." He declared, before taking several steps away from The Spore that Speaks. Being considerate enough to look back and make sure that he didn't leave the Myconid paralyzed with fear. "Unless—there's any kind of problem or ailment that you need my assistance with?" Dylirius offered, in a less-than-subtle manner. Seeming hopeful as ever, that everyone was always in need of something.</s> <\|message\|>Everdark and @Dark Light Vrel's eyes barely focused on whomever was speaking to him "Attacked...By one of our...Own," the dark elves breathing was getting ragged and the red spot on his chest was growing "Killed the entire...Scouting party...In their sleep," with the strength he had Vrel pointed to his fallen weapon on the bloody cave floor. "Take my sword...kill that bastard..." voice trailing Vrel breathed his last, finally death took him and he felt no more pain nor suffering. All that remained lifelike was the dancing flame in the lamp and the strange sword lying upon the rough stone cave floor.</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk Dor When the goblin appeared a frothing drool pooled around Scri'erk's mandibles. She struggled to listen to the words the goblin spoke over her hunger. She had not seen a good meal in days. As the small, green humanoid's words fully processed in her head, she gave a vaguely nod-like motion in acknowledgment. His food would likely not be her style, she preferred a fresh meal. Still, if they had been sent by Isatar, this could very well be important. Her attention turned to the golem's 'craftsmanship'. He had turned her webs into a tragic disgrace to all craftarachnidship. In a stern motion she shot out a web that replaced it, looking for more sturdy, may be capable of capturing a drow! "Stop broking webs! Then I helps! Scri'erk helps Survivors. No eat!" She graciously offered, still keen on getting the Golem to finally understand. He was beyond thick-skulled, and she wondered if there was any brain under all that stone. Likely not.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch "Scouting party? You weren't my reinforcements? Hey! No, no, no." Yvain leaned forward and shook the male by his collar and shook his limp body, but it wasn't of any use. He was gone. She pulled back and scooted out of his pooling blood. The only civilized voice she had heard since the battle and now it was silent forever, unless one of those dammed necromancers had made it through unscathed but she was sure this place would already be flooded with zombies were that the case. Just one more dead dark elf. She didn't even know this ones name. She sighed, rubbing her head, and took a look at that sword he had been so insistent about in his final moments. To her surprise she found it looking back. She jumped to her feet, slapping her hands over her mouth to keep her yelp from alerting any vicious murderers that happened to be lurking in these tunnels. She held her pose and had a staring contest with the sword. It blinked first. She didn't think it knew they had been playing a game, but she was more confident now that she had beaten it. Slowly, carefully, she reached down and laid her hand lightly on the blade. No burning. No immediate possession. She hadn't switched alignments, she didn't think. She picked up the sword, a genuinely magic sword. She had never held one anymore. Who was this guy that had been cut down in the dark that he would have a honest to gods magical sword? "Then again, it's not like it did him much good." She said, without even realizing she was speaking. She examined it, trying to find some sort of button or magic word carved somewhere that could activate it. "Maybe all it does is look at stuff?" Light</s> <\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "A good artisan... Never blames. Hisss... Sworrrd." A low whispered voice echoes in the drows head. The words long and drawn out, holding an almost defensive tone. The sword, although short felt heavier than it appeared and the eye, while possessing no eyebrow or muscles around it, somehow still gave a judgemental condescending glare. Or was it just in her head? "So, you think you can do better than... he did?" The sword hesitated, seemingly already forgetting its previous owners name or simply deeming him to unimportant to mention. Then it continued, its soft slow whisper absent of any commitment or vigor. "Please go ahead, find vengeance, slay the wrong doer... Use me as a tool to deliver death. As was his dying wish. That is only if you know how to do more than just stare at me? Or maybe all this one does is talk?" The eye continued to stare, blinking twice in succession but then not again. Simply becoming unable to.</s>	<\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch Oh crap, she had offended it. More worrying was that the sword could be offended, and could share that information with her. She almost dropped it right then and there, letting it clatter to the floor and leaving it stranded in the dark until someone else stumbled along and found it. Something about it, thought, instead made her grip on the hilt tighten. Something incredibly familiar. "I certainly can't do any worse than he did." She replied, trying to summon up some of that imperiousness that came so naturally to every other member of her family. She was sheriff around these parts now, if only because she had discovered her commanders brutally decapitated corpse. If there was a threat to the dungeon that was still her responsibility. She glanced at the yawning mouth of the tunnel the other dark elf had disappeared into and gulped. "Right, lets go get this creep!" She said, pointing her new sword in its direction. She marched forward, discarding her torch and picking up the lantern along the way as she followed after him. Of course the branching paths of the Everdark were intentionally twisted and confusing. There was no guarantee that she would find her quarry. It was more likely that he was going to get lost, eaten by some desperate dungeon denizen, or starve to death walking in circles. There was no telling where they would be spit out. "So," she started as she walked, making conversation just for the sake of hearing another voice. "Do you know why these guys are here? Was that guy always your master or did you get picked up along the way?" Light</s>
<\|description\|>Yvaine Arioch Alias/Nicknames: Her? Race: Dark Elf (Darkvison) Gender: ♀ Background: The twelfth daughter of a Dark Elf noblewoman and considered a thoroughly useless child by her mother and siblings. However, several assassination attempts by her siblings have proven that she has an uncanny ability to survive life threatening situations and, seeking to turn this into prestige for her family, pressured the girl into signing up for Cry Wolf dungeon defense corp. The Cry Wolves are part of a deal struck with the dungeon boss, where Dark Elven soldiers would be provided to guard the dungeon in a show of cooperation between the Everdark and the Dark Elf settlement. Unofficially, it was where you sent the kids you didn't need to earn the house some glory and then hopefully die to a band of adventurers. Yvain, unfortunately, beat the odds again when she was knocked unconscious during this latest and most successful of invasions. When she awoke she found herself to be the only Cry Wolf left alive. She is obliged, then, to remain at her post in the Evardark and maintain a Dark Elven presence in the dungeon until some fresh young recruits could be sent to reinforce her, which her mother has assured her are coming "soon" and that they are "definitely working on it." Personality: "By the book," is the way that Yvain leads her life, though that's mostly a crutch. So long as she follows the rules to the letter people might not cotton on to her not having any real idea what she's doing. She fluctuates between trying to put on a good face and maintaining the quiet dignity expected of an elf and jumping at shadows due to the paranoia beaten into her by her siblings attempts on her life. Appearance: Skills: * Combat Skill: Weapon Focus: Scimitar * Non-Combat Skill: Trap Making - In addition to their guard duties the Cry Wolves where also expected to create and maintain the traps in their area of the dungeon. Possessions: Standard Issue Scimitar, Standard Issue Bullwhip, Standard Issue Armor, Standard Issue Bola (3)</s> <\|message\|>Dylirius Interacting With: @Martian Dylirius found himself in a difficult situation. When he heard the Spore's warning and didn't have the chance to prevent an inevitable cloud of paralysis from enveloping his potential customer. Giving the lesser demon seconds to decide, if he wanted to get stuck alongside the soon-to-be cranky toad, or rush off to safety and leave the Bullywug to his fate. So that way he'd be able to come back and offer his assistance. Having the benefit of helping the warrior out of a dilemma—assuming he wasn't too stubborn or angry to accept it. On the other hand, if the Bullywug saw Dylirius fleeing the scene alone, and didn't realize the myconid created these stunning spores in the first place… Oh dear—I wish you wouldn't have done that. Dylirius thought, before softly exhaling and opening his extended paw that was meant for a handshake. With enough quickness to focus on a particular herb stem, thinking about its rough feel and light green color, plus any extra details that he needed in order to perfect its creation. Thankfully, it was easier for Dylirius to use his herbal alchemy on things that he had grown familiar with. Yet another reason that he had put so many things inside of his mouth. And I just replenished my mana earlier. Dylirius lamented, as his claw tips began to shimmer with a crimson red light. "Here stranger. Stick this in your mouth, and suck the juice out of its stem." The cat insisted, while quickly inserting one of two long green leafy stems inside of his maw. Which somehow spawned inside his no-longer-glowing paw, right before the Bullywug's eyes. Holding out the other one for the Bullywug to take, just as the large area got completely covered. Able to bite down onto the stem tip and taste its bitter slime that soon coated his whole tongue. "That'll let you speak and breathe without any trouble, as long as you keep it in there." Dylirius elaborated, while still grinding the stem in-between his teeth. Though unless Phaid had already done what was said, and hadn't tried to escape the burst of fog on his own. The toad could've had a bigger problem, than being unable to move for a few hours. Since it turns out that breathing in a haze of toxic spores—wasn't the best thing for one's lungs. Who knew?</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Searching Crypts @RogueFox @Shadow Dragon In the dusty corpse ridden halls of Everdark's upper half, the trio would find no living survivors other than rodents and other vermin picking corpses clean of their flesh. Vinashy was unfortunately the only one with olfactory senses so the smell of pustulant rotting flesh assailed his nostrils, but it was nothing the blood ritualist couldn't handle. Some bits and pieces of broken weapons littered the floors nearby the bodies, some had the irreparable vestige of armor clinging to their remains. But between the buzzing of flies suddenly came the sound of brisk and rapidly recedeing footsteps, whoever it was they were in a hurry to get away. It sounded like whoever or whatever the footfalls belonged to were anxious to flee to the deeper portion of the dungeon.</s> <\|message\|>Mortimer Costello Interacting with: @RogueFox@Shadow Dragon "More of the same..." Mortimer says as they wandered deeper into the dungeon's halls. He'd note that he should bury their dead after they establish a base of sorts. Just felt wrong to just leave them there rotting with the bodies of those horrid adventurers. But what caught his full attention was the sound of footfalls that weren't his nor the vampire's echoing through the halls as it grew fainter and fainter as the being that caused it went deeper into the dungeon. Mortimer called out but it seemed that he reacted too late. The sound of footsteps had gone so distant that he couldn't hear them any longer. "I'm sure that I wasn't the only one who heard that. We ought to follow them...but keep your guards up. We don't know if they're hostile or not." He was feeling a little more confident than when he was all alone but confidence would nary hinder an attacker's blade. Better to be prepared for the worst rather than getting caught with your metaphorical pants down.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch So they were getting close. Yaaaaay. She wished she had some general idea of how strong the man they were pursuing actually was. Well, actually, she did: strong enough that he killed a whole scout force by himself. She could only hope he had done that through subterfuge and surprise, because if he hadn't she was just going to have to rely on getting the drop on him or getting lucky. It was a good thing, then, that she was "blessed" with an inordinate supply of good luck. To take her mind off that she focused on the question...sword, she guessed... had asked her. "Opera isn't a place, it's a performance. Entertainment. Like a play, but every word is sung. And it's sung in old Elvish, so most of us younger delves have to read the plot in a book before it starts. It was pretty, but it wasn't her thing. Mostly old legends about war and romance, betrayal and revenge. A whole lot of betrayal and revenge. "There was Mourning Lily. It was stabbed into the heart of a Matriarch and froze her in magic sleep, so her favorite concubine had to go on and arduous quest to find a way to break the spell. I'm pretty sure that one was just an allegory. Most of them are. Tusk was this wicked sword wielded by the queen of the hobgoblins that inflicted wounds that never stopped hurting. Crownseeker was an sword that was used so many times in coups and assassinations that it developed a taste for noble blood. Durenadal was used by the king of the High Elves during the great war thousands of years ago, some unbreakable hold sword that could never be defeated, but the first Queen managed to seduce the king and steal it. That one I think is real. I heard it was locked up in the palace vault somewhere." Light</s> <\|message\|>Phaid Phaid the Bullywug kept his slow pace as he approached the furry medicine man and the mushroom man. After the events of a few weeks ago, Phaid and all the remaining Bullywugs had learned to avoid anyone they didn't know. But Phaid considered himself a brave creature, at least for a Bullywug. He was still embarrassed over his actions during the massacre that happened in the Everdark a few weeks back. When Phaid and some fellow Bullywugs first got wind of the slaughter, their fight or flight instinct kicked in. They decided on flight, retreating to the deep water tunnels of their domain. The frog-men would hide in this submerged section of the dungeon for several days, praying that whatever was killing the other creatures wasn't amphibious. It had been a low point for Phaid, the so called Puddle Knight. When the hidden Bullywugs did finally return to the surface of the dungeon, they found most of their kin slain, just a few feet away from the water's edge. Since then, the Bullywugs had stayed close to their watery home. They had not wanted to go and see how the other races were affected by the slaughtered, worried minds wondering if the goblin clan survived and would once again attack them. Or what happened to the Dark Elves, Undead, or other powerful beings who ran large portions of the Everdark. But as Phaid approached the two creatures, he wondered if the massacre hadn't been as bad if these ones survived it. But Phaid didn't appear to be the only antsy away, leaving a fog of yellow spores. Phaid thought that he was more imposing than he thought, only for a spore to touch his nose, causing it to go numb. But before any more of the spores could reach Phaid, the furry medicine man handed him some sort of vegetable, telling him to suck out its innards. Phaid wondered if this was a free first taste, so he did as instructed, a slime leaving the plant and coating his throat. As he did this, Phaid no longer felt the numbness as the spores landed on him. The medicine man then told him to keep the plant in his mouth if he wished to breathe and speak. Phaid quickly realized that this wasn't a free first hit, but rather to do away with what the mushroom man had done. He figured that the bitter tasting slime should of been a giveaway. Phaid naturally moved the plant around in his mouth, always keeping it secreting. "Thanks for whatever this is," said Phaid with some trouble as he tried to keep the plant firmly in his mouth, "But do you have any of those spotted flowers, the ones that can take you to the dream plane? I have trinkets to trade for it." What Phaid didn't mention was that these trinkets had been looted from the bodies of fellow Bullywugs. After so many died in the massacre, they could at least continue to benefit the clan. And by that Phaid meant benefit himself, the definite next head of the clan, especially since most of the competition had died. [Interacting with: @SleepingSilence]</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk Dor Scri'erk could be ornery but she had the ability to listen to reason. She had heard rumors that the golem's mind had been addled. Worse yet, looking at it's heaping size she could not deny that perhaps it would be hard for someone of their stature to move out of the way of her webs. That was the point really, to get people to touch them. Putting her grudges aside she let reason win this time. The tasty goblin seemed to interject before Scri'erk could find a reason to be mad again. They were hoping to go deeper into the everdark; a dangerous proposition. Luckily between Scri'erk's deadly poison's and Zarroy's strength they had nothing to be afraid of. "Danger! Goblin ride on Zarroy" She said as she took the lead, prodding into the dark abyss before them with her mandibles. In other circumstances she would allow the small humanoid to ride her own carapaced back. With Zarroy with them, however, she felt the morsel would be much safer away from her own greedy mandibles. Already she could feel them frothing again in hunger. Perhaps there would be a meal for her in the next town.</s> <\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "Hmm" Was all the sword said, short and sharp. Amused even. For a moment it seemed like it was going to speak again, to share its thoughts, but it didn't. After a small walk in silence where the sword replied to nothing, it suddenly and urgently blurted. "Stop!" Then, ignoring the urgency of its past words it casually continued. "Tell me of this crown seeker, what did it look like?"</s>	<\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch Yvain froze like mid step, like a cat that had been caught sneaking up on someone and wasn't sure whether it should charge forward or retreat. They had come to a hallway of dilapidated stonework, crude barricades of piled stone constructed at either end that menaced with large wooden spikes where the ravages of time hadn't caused them to rot away or snap under their own weight. A tattered banner lay draped over one of them, a brown skull cackling at her. Beyond the barricade, through a small gap that gave entry, she could see moldering tarps piled on the ground that may have once been tents. Enough for two dozen men at least. Among they lay scattered bones and old brown stains. An orcish warband, maybe? She had heard they painted their banners in the blood of their foes. Who were they? The Everdark was old, and it was witness to more deaths than even her ancient mother. They could have been an enemy raid, or mercenaries hired by the dungeons master? Had they been killed by adventurers, like the others, or the residents? They could have even been the victims of an inter-faction spat within the Everdark itself, as sometimes happened. Who could say? Her minecart of thought was derailed as Sword asked her another question. In the opera. It was big, with a long silver blade and an ornate black hilt set with rubies. It was beautiful. She thought back to a few of the assassins that had been sent by her sisters. I never thought it looked right. It was too big. It took an age to swing, you would see it coming from a mile away. If a sword like that really exited I always thought it would be more subtle. Old. And really, really sharp. Light</s>
<\|description\|>The Spore that Speaks Alias/Nickname: Swamp grass, salad, Spore, Shroom Race: Myconid (Telekinesis through spores, vulnerable to fire, advantageous with wind as it spreads spores) Gender: None Background: No one really knows how The Spore that Speaks came to be. Some theorized that a gap in the dungeon walls caused fresh air to carry pollen which was given life by some mysterious powers. Others say that it was a druid's spell gone wrong. The real reason though was more grounded. The Spore that Speaks was born out of necessity. There were a large amount of rotting bodies that once littered the dungeon. They were created to clean the mess and where corpses once stood now held colonies of fungi. Personality: The Spore that Speaks is quite a timid creature, preferring to hide and run rather than fight. This is why most of their abilities are ones that incapacitate not kill. They leave the dirty work to the other creatures that prowl the dungeon's halls and take care of what's left Appearance: Skills: Combat skill: Paralyzing dust (They release golden clouds of dust that, upon inhalation, cause paralysis within a minute. The effect refreshes for as long as the target remains in the cloud) Non-combat skill: Gardening Possessions: A long withered staff overgrown with mushrooms that doubles as a walking stick and weapon.</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk Thin, spindly pedipalps scrapped again the ground around Scri'erk inquisitively probing the areas where her poor vision failed to fill the gaps. Her low hunkered body easily fit into a large gash in the wall where an earth tremor long ago likely split the walls. It hardly mattered to the large bug hiding in her newest trap. A large web she held with her front claws concealed her body and allowed her to use her longer appendages to check her various webs to see if a meal had been caught. She had gone nearly two days now since her last catch. Perhaps she needed to innovate once more. Her train of thought was cut off as around her the earth shook again and again, getting increasingly more intense. Her pedipalps curled in to join the rest of her in fear, she had this happen every couple of weeks or so. All the webs she sprawled out would be ravaged, all because of a foolish denizen of the Everdark. As the tremors reached their crescendo, Scri'erks eyes struggled to watch the bane of her existence bumble on by. As the golem walked by her, Scri'erk scurried after it, eager to give the major pain in her Thorax a piece of her mind. Unfortunately, her low-crawling steps were nothing to the long legs of her adversary and she was struggling to keep up. Only when they stopped in an abandoned house did she reach them. "Broke webs! Traps gone!" Scri'erk rasped. Mimicking language was not something she was great at, but over time she had learned to speak the common tongue of the underdark. Plenty of practice with those stuck in her webs gave her the skill, but it made her throat hoarse to do. "Webs mine! Don't broke!"</s> <\|message\|>Zarroy (Pronounced Zarr oi) Zarroy's rough hand rubbed against the caved in helmet. He really did not understand why the adventurers had to come and make his friends disappear. This suit of armor was a living being that had been a force for justice around Everdark, a friend and stalwart champion to all. His name was Bartholomew and Zarroy could never call him by it often getting lost half way through his name. It made for a funny interaction between the two, but it was one Zarroy would have to place within a memory because it would happen no more. "Broke webs! Traps gone!" Scri'erk rasped. As Zarroy heard a familiar voice in it's familiar tone, he slightly turned his head as his sole fiery eye focused on the large spider. If the onyx golem could smile it would. He stood up and turned to face his friend. "Webs mine! Don't broke!" "Friend Sci.....Srii...Scii....SPIDER!!" Zarroy's voice echoed outward from his face despite the lack of a mouth. He lumbered quickly towards Scri'erk stopping in front of the spider and bending down to be closer to it and tilted his head much like a puppy would and reached his hand out in an effort to pet the spider. "Have you been well?"</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Meanwhile Above... as Hecate, @Shadow Dragon as Vinashy and @Searat as Mortimer Far removed from the patchwork of tunnels below, Everdark stood silent it's halls littered with the remains of the fallen all in various stages of decay. No noise permeated the dark corridors until a slight clickety-clack broke the silence as a lone skeleton wandered the lonely expanse of a narrow passageway intersecting in a forked path leading towards the crypts and the old goblin territory, a faint mournful cry drifted from one of the barren crypts that of a womans voice. Deep in the long abandoned goblin territory stalked a handsome looking man with pale skin yet his fair looks were marred by the red hungry looking eyes he had darting around the dirty room once occupied by goblinoids, his keen vision spotting a rodent scurrying across the floor.</s> <\|message\|>Hecate Hecate floated gently through the crypts. The decaying bodies of her friends filled her with sorrow and she let out another cry. She sighed and moved on, right through a wall. As she emerged on the other side, she saw a man she wanted to avoid at all costs. She had seen him performing rituals before, and magic terrified her. She turned around and went the opposite way, hoping that she wasn't spotted. Before long, she ran into a skeleton rattling through the halls. "Oh. Hello there." Her voice was quiet and soft, almost difficult to hear. She ascended a little to be out of reach of any attacks, she had been attacked a few times by strangers, though it wasn't too often. A wraith could never be too careful. "I'm not sure we've ever met. My name is Hecate." Her soft voice trailed through the near silent halls.</s> <\|message\|>Vinashy Vinashy drops down from a ledge, holding out a hand. His finger crooks, a large rat forcibly yanked over into his awaiting claw like hand. He sinks his fangs into the treat, draining it dry. Then, dropping the limp corpse, he casually seems to glide over the ground towards the wall where he saw that wraith dart over to. His voice is soothing, enticing. "I saw you girl. Come on out. I just want to talk." He licks his lips, feeling his endless thirst for living blood sated for the moment from the most recent wave of 'heroes' to come though the dark tunnels. He holds out one hand, and a glowing symbol forms above his palm, twisting the light to a bright crimson. He smiles, fangs flashing in the ruby glow of his magic.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch Yvain felt her heart sink as the the flame of her torch illuminated the face of another dark elf tangled up in the webbing. She sighed, pulling out a small lost and rubbing out the name Vinten with her thumb.. He had been a funny one, useless and foppish but seemingly happy to be away from the vipers nest of the capital. He had been some minor nobility like her, some fifth son of a third aunt, and would entertain the others at mealtime by playing a flute he had carved from a broken piece of bedframe. She sighed. "How many of you lot ran this way?" She asked nobody. The vast majority of the names on her list were now little more than blackened blobs and she could probably mark her passage through the corridors with thumbprints. Many of them had been the names of men, and not for the first time she insisted to herself that those barely even counted as people. Like all the times before the truism didn't bring her any comfort. She hadn't exactly been close with any of them (that was hard to achieve when you seemed to strike terror into their hearts if you stood up too quickly) but she had consistently found them to be better company than any of her sisters. The silence in the barracks now was deafening enough to send her out into the dungeon itself, a faint hope burning in her breast that some intrepid coward among them had found a hideaway within the twisting corridors of the Everdark. Her list of names attested to the futility of her search. At this point she was convinced that the few still listed were only so because they had been totally devoured by some other denizen of the dungeon. Even now she could hear the voices of likely culprits echoing through the caverns as she marched on. She didn't stop to take Vinten, didn't dare disturb the web. It was as honorable a resting place as any down here. You live by the spider, you die by the spider. As she continued, however, she was startled to find the faces of Delvs she didn't recognize. She followed the trail of bodies to a crude campsite that had clearly been set by her own people. "No way." She said aloud, just to hear a voice, as she started picking through the remnants of the camp. "You actually sent somebody?" She had been sending messages by carrier bat every time she had managed to catch one of the little buggers fluttering back to the shattered remains of a barracks bat coop. She had gotten one reply so far, a vague and rather dismissive message promising to reinforce her position, but if this was her reinforcements than it looked like she was out of luck unless she found some evidence of Delvs that hadn't wound up on the bottom of the dungeons food chain already.</s> <\|message\|>Mortimer Costello Interacting with: @RogueFox@Shadow Dragon It had been nearly three hours since he'd returned to the realm of the unliving and wandering the halls of the dungeon he called home. Not once did he find any of his neighbors and acquaintances alive. He'd nearly given up hope. Ready to storm out of the Everdark and hunt down those heartless adventurers that caused this calamity. Had he a face it would have bore a look of shock as he heard a faint mournful cry. A survivor perhaps? The clickity-clackity of his boney feet hitting the cold stonework of the dungeon echoed through the uncomfortably quiet halls of the Everdark and, lo and behold, a survivor of the massacre! If the gods didn't hate his metaphorical guts for existing, he'd thank them. "N-no. I don't think we have." He answered back. His voice purposefully smooth and gentle to avoid scaring off the first living monster he'd encountered. "My name is Mortimer Costello. I would have liked our initial interaction be under better circumstances but I'm just glad to see another of us still alive." Just as he was about to suggest that they keep looking for more survivors, a vampire made himself known and summons forth a ball of light that illuminates his form and casts a dim light upon himself and the female spirit. "More survivors! Maybe this dungeon isn't done for." Mort said while clapping his hands together making an audible clack. "Greetings of peace, master vampire. My name is Mortimer and this is my new friend Hecate. We are currently the only surviving monsters of this dungeon...well as far as I know at least. Would you like to accompany us? Safety in numbers and whatnot." The infested skeleton punctuated by extending his hand forward in a friendly and non-combative manner.</s>	<\|message\|>The Spore that Speaks In one of the larger caverns deep in the dungeon, a small ray of sunlight shone through the cracks. The beam hitting the wounded chest of an unmoving body. The room was bloody and littered with corpses of both dungeon dwellers and the invaders alike. The latter starting the conflict without care for those who roamed this place while the former fought to protect their homes. Shuffle, shuffle. Tap. Shuffle, shuffle. Tap. Like a beat, the sound rhythmically echoed throughout the chamber. Out of the gloom, a hunched creature slowly made its way forward. Its tiny dot like eyes, darted around taking in the scene before it. Despite the obvious lack of expression, it was quite happy. There were so many bodies all in one area. A perfect place to spread its spores. It stopped just before the ray of sunlight in the center of the room. It was ready. The Spore that Speaks shook its large carp releasing a multitude of fine dust that were in many different shades of colour. The dust spread throughout the room and when it landed on organic matter, different types of fungi sprouted. Big, small, long, short, angular, round, they all grew from the many bodies in the room aiding in the decomposition process. The center was it was the most crowded. The ray of sunlight providing that extra bit of sustenance which caused a bouquet of mushrooms to sprout from the body's chest. The cavern which was once covered in blood and corpses was now teeming with life. It had turned into a forest of reds and greens and purples and many more. The Spore that Speaks let go of its stick and brought its two hands together and slowly clapped as it look at its own handiwork.</s>
<\|description\|>(Yet unnamed) Alias/Nicknames: Race: An amorphic living blade. Talks telepathically to its wielder. Has an eye but its keen senses extend beyond physicality. Gender: ♂ tone Background: Long long ago a powerful warrior's soul entwined with his magical blade instead of passing over to the unknown. Eons passed, or maybe not, while the lost soul learned to harness the power of the blade and his own. Personality: Talkative for an object, curious, bossy on occasion. It has a short attention span. Skills: Combat Skill: Combat foresight The blade, if well connected to its wielder, can offer foresight and insight during battle. A mix of magic, keen senses and eons of experience. Non-Combat Skill: Can alter its shape within limitations Possessions: 3 grand gems in his hilt.</s> <\|message\|>Vinashy Interacting with:@Searat@RogueFox "Interesting. This sounds like the start of a bad joke. 'A wraith, a skeleton and a vampire walk into a cave'. Still, I'm surprised that there are others still around down here. I would say we survived, but all three of us are already dead." He shakes the skeletons hand. "As for being a master vampire, you'd have to go to another land to find one of those old bloodsuckers. They have power like you've never seen. In terms of age, I'm fairly young for a nosferatu. Only a bloodmage I'm afraid." He looks at the wraith. "Why so scared? My magics can't effect a ghost."</s> <\|message\|>Dylirius Interacting with: @Moon Man The gentle pitter-patter of Dylirius' footsteps echoed across this spacious tunnel. Not sounding too unusual for those in earshot, used to hearing his energetic pace. Yet the urgency in his dilated pupils would tell a very different tale⁠. As his two lengthy tails kept sweeping away the trail of paw prints that were left behind in the dirty stone. Being delicate enough in his actions, not to disturb the giant spider's webbing, or trigger any of the Everdark's numerous traps. But still unable to outrun an intense growling noise that followed him through the darkness and into the light ahead. With but a single persistent thought in his anxious mind. "I-I can't—I can't let anyone see me like this..." Dylirius uttered to himself. With the bright amber glow of his irises adjusting to all the blues, purples, and greens that illuminated the entire space. From floor, to walls, to the plantlife hanging from the cavern's ceiling. It was a sight that brought an immediate smile to the lesser demon's face. Quick to leap forward through the air like a cat, over a field of glowing flora, and plant his hind paws onto the vibrant red caps of one of the many 'mushroom trees'. Using their unique springy texture to nimbly bounce from fungus to fungus, several times more, until he was mere feet away from The Spore that Speaks. "Impressive as always, Dylirius." He congratulated himself in a confident whisper, upon his feet silently gracing the ground. Casually brushing off his robe's oversized sleeves and leaf-like hat, to keep his forest-colors dust free. "You made it here, and without a single witness." Dylirius asserted in hushed volume, with his back facing the myconid. Slowly inhaling the distinguished nutty odors through his twitching nose, focused on all these little spotted fungi, that were bunched up just beneath his stance. Both paws attempting to quell the hellish rumblings erupting from the pit of his stomach. "Patience please." Dylirius urged, before reaching back to take the satchel off his backside. "Even when ravished with insatiable hunger—one must remain vigilant to every little detail." He noted, while setting the satchel down in front of him, and opening the magically-sealed latch. How else could one keep his treasures secured from the humans and other thievish folk, which had no bounds for personal property? "Ah, here it is." Dylirius declared preemptively, before pulling out the thick hardcover book, and opening it to reveal the exact page that he needed. Covered in crimson-inked text so minuscule, that it seemed impossible to read. Yet his single claw proceeded to tap against the written description that he began to read aloud. "Bouquet Black Earth Tongue. Undoubtedly named for its obsidian color and growth patterns resembling a bouquet. Its delicious buttery texture will melt on your tongue. So long as it has at least four white spots on the cap. But it's safer not to actually swallow its stems..." He said, wasting no more time to put his book away and close the satchel. Before Dylirius reached below and plucked one straight from the ground. Able to see its five spots on top, as he effortlessly inserted a single claw into the tender mushroom. Soon popping the cap into his slightly-ajar maw, and sucking on its unique savory flavor. As he continued to pick more and more delicacies to enjoy—the blissful demon had soon stuffed his maw full of mushrooms. With their stalks sticking out, and a river of drool dribbling down from the side of his chin. While failing to be concerned, or acknowledge however The Spore that Speaks was reacting to this. It was likely difficult to tell how much of this was a playful act. Sure. The minor swelling of the tongue, and excess production of saliva is another side effect of tasting it. But oh it's so worth it. Dylirius thought, with his tails gently swaying back and forth. And these will also be quite useful in my serum for suppressing someone else's ravenous appetite. He concluded. Not taking long to spit out the undissolved mushroom stalks and then bury them underneath a pawful of soil. As Dylirius nonchalantly looked over his shoulder and smiled at The Spore that Speaks. "Good evening, Spore. I must commend your excellent gardening skills, once again." Dylirius praised, speaking in a fond tone. "And I mean it—a precious few can tend to such a delicate and deadly garden in the Everdark." He appealed, while picking up his satchel and turning himself around. Trying to 'butter up' his acquaintance, since it was only natural for an alchemist to frequently meet the supplier of his ingredients…</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Within the Caves... as Yvaine and @Dark Light as the Sword(?) As she finished surveying the camp Yvaine's pointy ears heard the faint sound of clanging blades, the sound of combat deeper down a nearby tunnel. Could someone else have killed the other dark elves? A lost adventurer or someone else entirely? * * * Deep in the tunnels below two figures had their blades crossed, in the darkness only the dim light of a lantern on the cave floor illuminated the shadows of their faces both grimacing as they tried to overpower one or the other. "Stop this madness Gwain, haven't you spilt enough blood." said the one pressed with his back to the wall, in a thick elven accent, to which his aggressor Gwain responded with an unhinged laugh. "I haven't even begun yet Vrel, my family will be avenged!" with a sudden push the maddened man threw the others blade clattering to the side then swung his blade disemboweling the other, blood spattering Gwain's face bearing a disturbing grin. "I'll leave you Vrel, although I would have loved to watch you die." as he left the maddened dark elves laughter echoed behind him leaving the other on the ground raggedly breathing desperately trying to keep his insides from spilling out. Even though it would just make sense to accept it he wouldn't go without a fight because young Vrel was stubborn to the last. Breathing a gurgling sigh the young dark elves eyes drifted to his fallen weapon "I hope your next wielder-" he coughed hard into his arm, the spot of red growing on his tunic "Isn't as shitty a swordsman as I." Vrel chuckled only to wince in pain. And he laid upon the cold wet cave floor awaiting death, with his sword not far from him.</s> <\|message\|>Mortimer Costello Interacting with: @RogueFox@Shadow Dragon "I understand your concern with others..." It was a known fact that not all the denizens of the Everdark were amicable to one another. Some even were outright hostile. "but isn't it a good sign that he hasn't attacked us or even threatened us on sight?" It was around this point that he 'felt' the vampire take his hand and gives it a polite shake and explain to the duo that his magic will only affect those with blood. "No doubt about that sir vampire, but I'm sure you are powerful in your own way." Rather than turn his body away from the hemomancer vampire, the skeleton simply opts to turn his head 180° with his free hand to face the worrywart wraith. Attempting reassure her that the vampire was more of a potential friend than a potential foe. "See, Hecate? He seems a decent enough individual. Give the guy a chance." Twisting his head back to face the vampire, one could observe that the blue motes of flame inside his eye sockets shape themselves into downward crescents. As if to notify the vampire that the bug-infested skeleton was rather happy. "I take it that this means that we would be travelling together for the foreseeable future?" And maybe even beyond that; as he'd be sure that the vampire also had a vendetta to be settled against those adventurers.</s> <\|message\|>Hecate Interacting with: @Shadow Dragon @Searat Hecate, upon seeing the vampire's interaction with Mortimer, and hearing that his magic can't effect her, she visibly loosened up. She floated out from behind Mortimer. "I... I will give him a chance." She looked between the two, and though they weren't the company she used to keep, she felt comfort in no longer being alone. "Yes, we will, I suppose... but to what end? I was hoping to find survivors and rebuild the Everdark.... I have had no luck in finding anyone... She let out another mournful sob as ethereal tears fell from her eyes and dissipated before making it halfway to the ground. "Are your plans similar, sirs?" Hecate attempted to stiffen her upper lip, but sorrow remained evident on her face as she reminisced of the goblins and other monsters she had seen as family. Some Lamias, cave trolls, and even more were among her now deceased friends. She used to cook meals for them from the meats they harvested from rats, small fish, and the rare adventurer who had journeyed too far alone. She cried yet again, realizing that even now she won't be able to cook for her new companions.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch What was that? Yvain poked her head out of the barren tent. Sound carried far in the Evardark, and the echo she caught bouncing out of one of the nearby tunnels was as fain as it was unmistakable. The chaotic clangs of blade on blade combat. Between who was the question. She darted forward, scooping her torch out of the spent campfire and sprinted down the tunnel towards the source. Who? Who? She had to keep herself from calling out. The fact that both were humanoid narrowed down the list of who it could be, but those possibilities were still enough to scare her into silence. It could be a survivor from her unit, of course, but it could also be one of the adventurers. One that was still hanging around, or had gotten lost, or had just had so much fun then were still looking for a challenge. The image of the giant, musclebound beast of a half-orc that had brought the pommel of his great sword down directly on her helmet and ruined it came to mind. Finding one of the full orc mercenaries the dungeons boss had hired on might be even worse. At least she could be sure that the the adventurers probably wouldn't eat her after she was done. It could be a mad skeleton who was off its magic chain and angry at the living. It could be a animated armor stuck in battle mode. It could be two goblin fighting over a patch of mushroom. The number of thing it could be besides a survivor was astoundingly large and almost everything else would probably want her dead. It turned out to be more other dark elves. The sounds of battle stopped as she approached, replaced with voices. She slowed down, creeping forward so as not to let them know she was approaching. They were speaking her language but she didn't recognize either of the voices. There was a heart shaking sound of cutting, followed by something splattering to the floor. The winner had the voice and the laugh of a madman, enough so to freeze Yvain in place. She drew her sword, slowly, quietly, waiting for the sound of his footsteps to come her way. Instead they pattered away in the opposite direction, down one of the many tunnels, and Yvain let out the breath she had been holding in. The cavern she stepped into was illuminated only by the light of a single lantern, but even still she could make out a form slumped against the far wall. He was breathing raggedly, using his final breaths to speak kindly to weapon discarded on the floor. Breathing. Breathing! Still alive! She rushed across the room, kneeling next to the fallen man. She felt something soaking into her knees. A lot of something. Enough something to know that first aide wasn't an option for anything short of magic, and unfortunately enough their resident Cleric had been the first one to go when the adventurers swept through. She didn't panic. Death by other Dark Elf was unfortunately a common occurrence where she was from. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "Yvain, Cry Wolves. You guys were probably here because of me. What happened?" Light</s> <\|message\|>Vinashy Interacting with:@Searat and @RogueFox "Indeed. Those 'heros'-" He spits the word out like a curse, "-burchered helpless residents of this cave network. I want them to suffer, to writhe in agony the way they made your friends. They deserve it for all they've done to you. Make them weap, fill them with the sorrow you yourself feel this very moment." He raises his arms in the air, beckoning them to him. "Join me in a quest of vengeance. They wish to kill for sport? Let's show them how it feels to be hunted."</s>	<\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "Oh" The sword thought in a contemplative silence as the large eye in its hilt split open and rolled to gaze upon its dying wielder. It could hear his words but could not reply since they were no longer in contact. What would it say anyway. The fragile creature was expiring. As they often did. "Perhaps I should have done something?" It mused, trying to understand why it hadn't felt like doing more. Meanwhile it just watched as the dying drow's life essence steadily escape him, a pool of blood growing larger around him ever slowly creeping closer and closer to the weapon. Then a new figure emerged. The weapon had already been aware of her presence but could now physically see her form as she knelt over the dying dark elf. Curious. He found her actions to be of interest and continued to watch on intently. His wide yellow eye very occasionally blinking.</s>
<\|description\|>(Yet unnamed) Alias/Nicknames: Race: An amorphic living blade. Talks telepathically to its wielder. Has an eye but its keen senses extend beyond physicality. Gender: ♂ tone Background: Long long ago a powerful warrior's soul entwined with his magical blade instead of passing over to the unknown. Eons passed, or maybe not, while the lost soul learned to harness the power of the blade and his own. Personality: Talkative for an object, curious, bossy on occasion. It has a short attention span. Skills: Combat Skill: Combat foresight The blade, if well connected to its wielder, can offer foresight and insight during battle. A mix of magic, keen senses and eons of experience. Non-Combat Skill: Can alter its shape within limitations Possessions: 3 grand gems in his hilt.</s> <\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "A good artisan... Never blames. Hisss... Sworrrd." A low whispered voice echoes in the drows head. The words long and drawn out, holding an almost defensive tone. The sword, although short felt heavier than it appeared and the eye, while possessing no eyebrow or muscles around it, somehow still gave a judgemental condescending glare. Or was it just in her head? "So, you think you can do better than... he did?" The sword hesitated, seemingly already forgetting its previous owners name or simply deeming him to unimportant to mention. Then it continued, its soft slow whisper absent of any commitment or vigor. "Please go ahead, find vengeance, slay the wrong doer... Use me as a tool to deliver death. As was his dying wish. That is only if you know how to do more than just stare at me? Or maybe all this one does is talk?" The eye continued to stare, blinking twice in succession but then not again. Simply becoming unable to.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch Oh crap, she had offended it. More worrying was that the sword could be offended, and could share that information with her. She almost dropped it right then and there, letting it clatter to the floor and leaving it stranded in the dark until someone else stumbled along and found it. Something about it, thought, instead made her grip on the hilt tighten. Something incredibly familiar. "I certainly can't do any worse than he did." She replied, trying to summon up some of that imperiousness that came so naturally to every other member of her family. She was sheriff around these parts now, if only because she had discovered her commanders brutally decapitated corpse. If there was a threat to the dungeon that was still her responsibility. She glanced at the yawning mouth of the tunnel the other dark elf had disappeared into and gulped. "Right, lets go get this creep!" She said, pointing her new sword in its direction. She marched forward, discarding her torch and picking up the lantern along the way as she followed after him. Of course the branching paths of the Everdark were intentionally twisted and confusing. There was no guarantee that she would find her quarry. It was more likely that he was going to get lost, eaten by some desperate dungeon denizen, or starve to death walking in circles. There was no telling where they would be spit out. "So," she started as she walked, making conversation just for the sake of hearing another voice. "Do you know why these guys are here? Was that guy always your master or did you get picked up along the way?" Light</s> <\|message\|>Phaid Phaid easily navigated through the twisting flooded caverns of the Everdark, years of practise clearly evident. For many generations now, the Bullywugs had lived among this submerged architecture, calling it their home, a place in the dungeon for only the frog-kin. Phaid was a proud Bullywug, viewing himself as an alpha among his clan, the rightful lord of these depths. As such he had no problem eating something without sharing it among his kin. And that is exactly what he did as he leaped out of the water. A small rat had barely enough time to even squeak as Phaid opened his jaws, easily encompassing the rodent. With a loud crunch, Phaid broke the rat in half, his powerful jaws grinding it up enough so that he could swallow. With one last gulp, Phaid completely downed the rodent, sending it to his digestive track. Phaid then wiped away what little blood from his meal that had gotten on his face. While Phaid always enjoyed the taste of rat meat, the one he had just consumed had been on the smaller end. The Bullywug did not feel full, his tongue salivating at the idea of having one more rat. Unfortunately, Phaid did not see anymore rats around the pool. With his one good eye, Phaid looked down the tunnel, the only light coming from some bio luminescent fungi that clung to the walls and glowed a bright blue. While he didn't see anything dangerous, he did know that he was near the edge of his clan's territory. But the primal feeling of hunger overtook Phaid, as he threw logic to the wind. With wet steps, Phaid began walking down the tunnel. He figured that he would only be a few minutes, and that his clan would be safe without the protection of their Puddle Knight. But Phaid kept his short sword on himself just in case he wasn't safe. With a hand kept on his blade's hilt, Phaid left the familiar tunnels of his people and into the bigger part of the Everdark. Phaid attempted to keep walking forward as he didn't want to get lost. He had heard stories of Bullywugs who had travelled too far and were forever lost, dying from exhaustion unless the creatures of the dungeon got to them first. It was with those phantom creatures in mind that Phaid stopped when he heard a voice. The Bullywug quickly dropped to one knee and began to listen. Whatever was making that noise didn't sound that large to Phaid, so he ruled out the worst possibilities like a troll or ogre. But then Phaid thought of what if it was a smaller creature. He had heard tales of giant Bullywugs eating Kobold babies, apparently being a delicious meat. The thought of snacking on one was enough to cause Phaid to slowly approach the voice. As he got closer he saw a being who looked like a giant walking mushroom. Phaid knew of this creature, a gentle being who comes and goes. The mushroom was standing next to some kind of small furred animal wearing clothes, apparently the one who was speaking. Phaid didn't know what to make of him, until he mentioned helping with ailments. Even to a Bullywug, Phaid understood that as a code word for herbs and mixtures. While he wasn't supposed to waste trade items for frivolous things, Phaid had in the past partaken in some psychedelic plants. It helped liven up Phaid's mundane life. Deciding to be bold, Phaid approached the pair, his hand still on the hilt of his sword. "Excuse me small mammal. Would you perhaps be selling the mind warping flower?" Phaid asked as he sized up the medicine man. [Interactions with: @Moon Man @SleepingSilence]</s> <\|message\|>Zarroy (Pronounced Zarr oi) "Stop broking webs! Then I helps! Scri'erk helps Survivors. No eat!" Zarroy instinctively felt one of his hands twitch towards the webbing, much like a naughty child being told not to touch something in the toy aisle. Yet the golem calmed himself as he remembered his task. Isatar had painstakingly took way more time then necessary to try and ingrain the importance of survivors into his mana addled brain. Zarroy still standing tall despite Scri'erk more or less spraying more webbing onto his beautiful disaster nodded his head. "I will be more careful. Sometimes your webs cover the entire walk way and I have no choice..." Zarroy looked downward pouting like a small child who was trying to explain his point. It was during this conversation that Ginto cautiously gave Scri'erk a wide berth as she got to Zarroy as quickly as her small goblin legs could take her and leaped onto Zarroy's ankle and started to halfway climb and crawl up the golems rocky leg. Zarroy noticing her ascending his leg reached down and grabbed her between his thumb and index finger and set her on his shoulder. Ginto brushed off her animal skin skirt and let out a relaxed sigh figuring herself out of reach of Scri'erk. "If you two have made peace can I suggest we get going?" The little goblin looked sadly at the Slumbering Lantern. "Nothing is alive here anymore and we need to keep looking." Zarroy pointed towards a path they had not been yet. "I don't know that way...Check maybe?" [intercting with @Birdboy]</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk -------</s> <\|message\|>Dylirius Interacting With: @Martian @Moon Man The lesser demon immediately stepped in front of the camouflaged Spore. I can smell you coming... Dylirius thought in disgust, as he turned around to face the sword-wielding stranger. With his impulsive actions, likely to be perceived as defensive by the swordsman. From the way Dylirius presented himself, in his equally brazen approach toward the battle-savvy Bullywug. Especially, since he didn't seem to have any visible weapon. Nor did his paws ever reach for the satchel that was carried on his backside. Being able to see the cat's scrutinizing eyes and relaxed stance. Both suggesting that he relied heavily on his excellent agility and reflexes. Because how else could one interpret the friendly smile that Dylirius displayed shortly thereafter? Either the medicine man believed that he could outrun a warrior—or he was simply unafraid of injury or death. At least, that was Dylirius' best assumption of what was going through the foul-smelling toad's head. Soon-to-be reminded of why he was frequently grinding and chewing on various pieces of fragrant herbs or flower petals. Not saying anything about how many times he bathed, in order to keep the Everdark's stenches off of him. But there were still certain odors that his sensitive nostrils adjusted to quicker, and therefore tolerated much better than others. So sure, it might've seemed strange to be unaffected by the death and decay surrounding him. However, nothing was worse than the cruel scent of freshly-eaten meat guts. Though he tried his damndest to appear friendly regardless. "Oh, I don't require true payment from my fellow Everdark dwellers." Dylirius declared in an upbeat tone. Sounding delighted to advertise himself to others—since he was very likely one of the newest creatures within the Everdark. Only known by anyone else here, for his effective treatments and boundless generosity. And he intended to keep it that way. "Name's, Dylirius." The demon greeted, while briefly tipping his oversized hat toward the Bullywug. "And yes, I can provide you with that substance." Dylirius confirmed, without as much build up as he was used to giving. Just in case his armed customer wasn't so patient. "But I don't have those precise ingredients on me now. So you'd have to wait here for a moment, and let me work." Dylirius offered, with his paw casually extended. Not minding whether he had his hand shaken or not. "But I assure you that it would be most worth the wait. Sir-" Dylirius appealed with a pause, to get the stranger's name. Using the prefix out of belief that his ilk would feel slighted, if it wasn't used. Since the human knights were always obsessed over their worthless titles.</s> <\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) There was a sound in Yvaine's head that could only be described as a sigh. Beyond that the sword fell silent. Clearly not a conversationalist. Simply offering no reply until the dark elf seeming hesitated at an intersection. "Left..." It said with a cold flat certainty. " Right Right Left..." It continued to guide her down the tunnels, apparently aware of or seeing something she could not. "Keep going." it ushered. "But try to be a bit more silent... If you must talk to the voices in your head, then at least try to appear sane and keep the conversation in your head." There was a slither of light amusement in the swords final words. Yvaine could almost somehow sense it smirking.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch "You are-," Yvain started before quickly shutting her mouth. Instead she thought "You are a voice in my head" as she dutifully followed its directions. If it was going to be this difficult to get a conversation out of than it was just going to have to get cozy with the rest of the voices in there. She wondered, momentarily, if the voice was even real and whether the shock of seeing her first company in weeks chopped down like a giant mushroom hadn't finally caused her to snap. If she was insane now, though, it was a better form of insane than whatever the person she was chasing had. She hoped that the sword, or whatever aspect of herself had splintered off and was speaking to her through the sword, knew where it was going. If it did, that probably meant she wasn't crazy. Do you have a name at least? Swords that are magic tend to have names. At least, they do it all the operas. Light</s>	<\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "What is an opera? And just how many like me are kept there?" It replied with a seemingly genuine curiosity. " Right Right again. We are getting close" The sword seemingly grew lighter in Yvain's hand. At the same time it fell into a contemplative silence. What gave Yvain the idea that the sword was thinking, and if she was right to assume so, was just another of its many mysteries. A moment later it spoke again before she could get a word in. "We don't need titles. You don't need to address me when you want to communicate, I hear all your thoughts and words anyway, and well, I can't speak to anyone else so if you hear my voice it is safe to assume I am talking to you." "But.... what we're the names of these other magic blades kept at the operas?"</s>
<\|description\|>(Yet unnamed) Alias/Nicknames: Race: An amorphic living blade. Talks telepathically to its wielder. Has an eye but its keen senses extend beyond physicality. Gender: ♂ tone Background: Long long ago a powerful warrior's soul entwined with his magical blade instead of passing over to the unknown. Eons passed, or maybe not, while the lost soul learned to harness the power of the blade and his own. Personality: Talkative for an object, curious, bossy on occasion. It has a short attention span. Skills: Combat Skill: Combat foresight The blade, if well connected to its wielder, can offer foresight and insight during battle. A mix of magic, keen senses and eons of experience. Non-Combat Skill: Can alter its shape within limitations Possessions: 3 grand gems in his hilt.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch "You are-," Yvain started before quickly shutting her mouth. Instead she thought "You are a voice in my head" as she dutifully followed its directions. If it was going to be this difficult to get a conversation out of than it was just going to have to get cozy with the rest of the voices in there. She wondered, momentarily, if the voice was even real and whether the shock of seeing her first company in weeks chopped down like a giant mushroom hadn't finally caused her to snap. If she was insane now, though, it was a better form of insane than whatever the person she was chasing had. She hoped that the sword, or whatever aspect of herself had splintered off and was speaking to her through the sword, knew where it was going. If it did, that probably meant she wasn't crazy. Do you have a name at least? Swords that are magic tend to have names. At least, they do it all the operas. Light</s> <\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) "What is an opera? And just how many like me are kept there?" It replied with a seemingly genuine curiosity. " Right Right again. We are getting close" The sword seemingly grew lighter in Yvain's hand. At the same time it fell into a contemplative silence. What gave Yvain the idea that the sword was thinking, and if she was right to assume so, was just another of its many mysteries. A moment later it spoke again before she could get a word in. "We don't need titles. You don't need to address me when you want to communicate, I hear all your thoughts and words anyway, and well, I can't speak to anyone else so if you hear my voice it is safe to assume I am talking to you." "But.... what we're the names of these other magic blades kept at the operas?"</s> <\|message\|>The Spore that Speaks Interacting with @Martian @SleepingSilence After hearing his furry friend's explanation, Spore looked at him with two large, unblinking eyes. "If… you… say… so…" It slowly pulled itself away from the wall. The Spore that Speaks wasn't something that trusted so easily. Due to its nature it preferred to keep to itself yet the lesser demon somehow managed to prove its trustworthiness to the myconid. Perhaps it was due to their common interest of different types of fungus or the fact that Dylirius didn't really care whether he got paralyzed or not. It slowly shuffled its way forward, eyes darting around, obviously still alert. "Please… give… warning…next…time…" said the jittery myconid. It moved past Dylirius and started to tend towards the newly grown garden, making sure each part of the fallen dungeon dwellers and invaders were home to different types of fauna. It was minding its own business when the sound of talking was heard. Turning around The Spore that Speaks could see Dylirius talking to something, or someone. Shuffling around a little bit it could see the source of the unfamiliar voice. It was a rather tall, green looking frog thing. One of the creatures who live in flooded parts of the Everdark. It looked quite tall and imposing with its build and scarred eye. Spore's gaze moved down towards the visitor's hip where there was a hand resting on shortsword. Memories of its kin and other dungeon dwellers being cut down by the invaders resurfaced. "Danger…! Sword…!" It warned Dylirius through the use of spores. Without waiting for a reply, The Spore that Speaks quickly shook its large cap releasing a wave of bright yellow dust that quickly filled the entire room where it hung as though it was fog. It turned around and shuffled as fast as it could towards another exit.</s> <\|message\|>Dylirius Interacting With: @Martian Dylirius found himself in a difficult situation. When he heard the Spore's warning and didn't have the chance to prevent an inevitable cloud of paralysis from enveloping his potential customer. Giving the lesser demon seconds to decide, if he wanted to get stuck alongside the soon-to-be cranky toad, or rush off to safety and leave the Bullywug to his fate. So that way he'd be able to come back and offer his assistance. Having the benefit of helping the warrior out of a dilemma—assuming he wasn't too stubborn or angry to accept it. On the other hand, if the Bullywug saw Dylirius fleeing the scene alone, and didn't realize the myconid created these stunning spores in the first place… Oh dear—I wish you wouldn't have done that. Dylirius thought, before softly exhaling and opening his extended paw that was meant for a handshake. With enough quickness to focus on a particular herb stem, thinking about its rough feel and light green color, plus any extra details that he needed in order to perfect its creation. Thankfully, it was easier for Dylirius to use his herbal alchemy on things that he had grown familiar with. Yet another reason that he had put so many things inside of his mouth. And I just replenished my mana earlier. Dylirius lamented, as his claw tips began to shimmer with a crimson red light. "Here stranger. Stick this in your mouth, and suck the juice out of its stem." The cat insisted, while quickly inserting one of two long green leafy stems inside of his maw. Which somehow spawned inside his no-longer-glowing paw, right before the Bullywug's eyes. Holding out the other one for the Bullywug to take, just as the large area got completely covered. Able to bite down onto the stem tip and taste its bitter slime that soon coated his whole tongue. "That'll let you speak and breathe without any trouble, as long as you keep it in there." Dylirius elaborated, while still grinding the stem in-between his teeth. Though unless Phaid had already done what was said, and hadn't tried to escape the burst of fog on his own. The toad could've had a bigger problem, than being unable to move for a few hours. Since it turns out that breathing in a haze of toxic spores—wasn't the best thing for one's lungs. Who knew?</s> <\|message\|>Everdark Searching Crypts @RogueFox @Shadow Dragon In the dusty corpse ridden halls of Everdark's upper half, the trio would find no living survivors other than rodents and other vermin picking corpses clean of their flesh. Vinashy was unfortunately the only one with olfactory senses so the smell of pustulant rotting flesh assailed his nostrils, but it was nothing the blood ritualist couldn't handle. Some bits and pieces of broken weapons littered the floors nearby the bodies, some had the irreparable vestige of armor clinging to their remains. But between the buzzing of flies suddenly came the sound of brisk and rapidly recedeing footsteps, whoever it was they were in a hurry to get away. It sounded like whoever or whatever the footfalls belonged to were anxious to flee to the deeper portion of the dungeon.</s> <\|message\|>Mortimer Costello Interacting with: @RogueFox@Shadow Dragon "More of the same..." Mortimer says as they wandered deeper into the dungeon's halls. He'd note that he should bury their dead after they establish a base of sorts. Just felt wrong to just leave them there rotting with the bodies of those horrid adventurers. But what caught his full attention was the sound of footfalls that weren't his nor the vampire's echoing through the halls as it grew fainter and fainter as the being that caused it went deeper into the dungeon. Mortimer called out but it seemed that he reacted too late. The sound of footsteps had gone so distant that he couldn't hear them any longer. "I'm sure that I wasn't the only one who heard that. We ought to follow them...but keep your guards up. We don't know if they're hostile or not." He was feeling a little more confident than when he was all alone but confidence would nary hinder an attacker's blade. Better to be prepared for the worst rather than getting caught with your metaphorical pants down.</s> <\|message\|>Yvaine Arioch So they were getting close. Yaaaaay. She wished she had some general idea of how strong the man they were pursuing actually was. Well, actually, she did: strong enough that he killed a whole scout force by himself. She could only hope he had done that through subterfuge and surprise, because if he hadn't she was just going to have to rely on getting the drop on him or getting lucky. It was a good thing, then, that she was "blessed" with an inordinate supply of good luck. To take her mind off that she focused on the question...sword, she guessed... had asked her. "Opera isn't a place, it's a performance. Entertainment. Like a play, but every word is sung. And it's sung in old Elvish, so most of us younger delves have to read the plot in a book before it starts. It was pretty, but it wasn't her thing. Mostly old legends about war and romance, betrayal and revenge. A whole lot of betrayal and revenge. "There was Mourning Lily. It was stabbed into the heart of a Matriarch and froze her in magic sleep, so her favorite concubine had to go on and arduous quest to find a way to break the spell. I'm pretty sure that one was just an allegory. Most of them are. Tusk was this wicked sword wielded by the queen of the hobgoblins that inflicted wounds that never stopped hurting. Crownseeker was an sword that was used so many times in coups and assassinations that it developed a taste for noble blood. Durenadal was used by the king of the High Elves during the great war thousands of years ago, some unbreakable hold sword that could never be defeated, but the first Queen managed to seduce the king and steal it. That one I think is real. I heard it was locked up in the palace vault somewhere." Light</s> <\|message\|>Phaid Phaid the Bullywug kept his slow pace as he approached the furry medicine man and the mushroom man. After the events of a few weeks ago, Phaid and all the remaining Bullywugs had learned to avoid anyone they didn't know. But Phaid considered himself a brave creature, at least for a Bullywug. He was still embarrassed over his actions during the massacre that happened in the Everdark a few weeks back. When Phaid and some fellow Bullywugs first got wind of the slaughter, their fight or flight instinct kicked in. They decided on flight, retreating to the deep water tunnels of their domain. The frog-men would hide in this submerged section of the dungeon for several days, praying that whatever was killing the other creatures wasn't amphibious. It had been a low point for Phaid, the so called Puddle Knight. When the hidden Bullywugs did finally return to the surface of the dungeon, they found most of their kin slain, just a few feet away from the water's edge. Since then, the Bullywugs had stayed close to their watery home. They had not wanted to go and see how the other races were affected by the slaughtered, worried minds wondering if the goblin clan survived and would once again attack them. Or what happened to the Dark Elves, Undead, or other powerful beings who ran large portions of the Everdark. But as Phaid approached the two creatures, he wondered if the massacre hadn't been as bad if these ones survived it. But Phaid didn't appear to be the only antsy away, leaving a fog of yellow spores. Phaid thought that he was more imposing than he thought, only for a spore to touch his nose, causing it to go numb. But before any more of the spores could reach Phaid, the furry medicine man handed him some sort of vegetable, telling him to suck out its innards. Phaid wondered if this was a free first taste, so he did as instructed, a slime leaving the plant and coating his throat. As he did this, Phaid no longer felt the numbness as the spores landed on him. The medicine man then told him to keep the plant in his mouth if he wished to breathe and speak. Phaid quickly realized that this wasn't a free first hit, but rather to do away with what the mushroom man had done. He figured that the bitter tasting slime should of been a giveaway. Phaid naturally moved the plant around in his mouth, always keeping it secreting. "Thanks for whatever this is," said Phaid with some trouble as he tried to keep the plant firmly in his mouth, "But do you have any of those spotted flowers, the ones that can take you to the dream plane? I have trinkets to trade for it." What Phaid didn't mention was that these trinkets had been looted from the bodies of fellow Bullywugs. After so many died in the massacre, they could at least continue to benefit the clan. And by that Phaid meant benefit himself, the definite next head of the clan, especially since most of the competition had died. [Interacting with: @SleepingSilence]</s> <\|message\|>Scri'erk Dor Scri'erk could be ornery but she had the ability to listen to reason. She had heard rumors that the golem's mind had been addled. Worse yet, looking at it's heaping size she could not deny that perhaps it would be hard for someone of their stature to move out of the way of her webs. That was the point really, to get people to touch them. Putting her grudges aside she let reason win this time. The tasty goblin seemed to interject before Scri'erk could find a reason to be mad again. They were hoping to go deeper into the everdark; a dangerous proposition. Luckily between Scri'erk's deadly poison's and Zarroy's strength they had nothing to be afraid of. "Danger! Goblin ride on Zarroy" She said as she took the lead, prodding into the dark abyss before them with her mandibles. In other circumstances she would allow the small humanoid to ride her own carapaced back. With Zarroy with them, however, she felt the morsel would be much safer away from her own greedy mandibles. Already she could feel them frothing again in hunger. Perhaps there would be a meal for her in the next town.</s>	<\|message\|>(Yet unnamed) Was all the sword said, short and sharp. Amused even. For a moment it seemed like it was going to speak again, to share its thoughts, but it didn't. After a small walk in silence where the sword replied to nothing, it suddenly and urgently blurted. "Stop!" Then, ignoring the urgency of its past words it casually continued. "Tell me of this crown seeker, what did it look like?"</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>
<\|description\|>Ryoko Yumekishi "Okay... I've become an anime protagonist. Discuss!" Gender: Female Age: 21 Nationality: Japanese Appearance: With a picture to start out with... Ryoko stands a fairly-average 5'10", and a reasonable athlete. She is not a track star runner, just physically fit, having grown up in the standard lifestyle of Japan...and then living an American one. Not a traditionalist, she often wears jeans, t-shirt, and jacket and never anything formal. The rugged comfort of a motorbiker's clothes or something similarly tough that doesn't look bad even with wear-and-tear has always appealed to her more than style. Certainly, this has nothing to do with the presenters of a popular car show who eventually left that show to start ANOTHER car show that was very popular. The look that she went for was essentially the smooth and calm exterior crossed with the rough sort of coating that says she isn't afraid to get her hands dirty. She doesn't have any scars or unusual markings. She looks good and looks the way she likes. As for the odd color in her eyes... Well, they are officially classified as 'maroon', which people can get for an eye color. Whether that's actually what happened there is anybody's guess. She never thought anything of it, herself. Personality: No picture here, of course. Part of the reason Ryoko is the way she is has to do with her growing up wondering how people will react to a sudden change. Now, she didn't do anything TOO outlandish, but usually defying convention just a little in Japan is enough. You see, Japan is very often a stressful society to live in. People are pressured to succeed for the honor of their family and to themselves. This sort of thing has had a profound effect on Ryoko, because she had been in classes where a student committed suicide before a critical examn. It really happens, and it's always terrible when it does. And it's things like that that make you ask 'Why?'. Why do these things happen? What possible influences make a person one way or another, and how can the more harmful aspects be stopped? Because of all that, Ryoko is studying psychology, and is a noted observer of behaviors, emotional reactions, and various influences on the human psyche. She lives a life that is different from the norm because {A} she likes it and {B} she believes it to be more healthy. The words 'Let's not get bogged down' from her favorite show have real meaning in the psychological department. If you let yourself get hampered to the point of mental paralysis over a problem, terrible things may befall you before you cross the bridge you were worrying about. Ryoko is, therefore, a young lady looking to fix problems - fix people - before they break completely. She examines the world by being disarming and unexpected in her manner, then offering a helping hand once you remove your jaw from the floor. Soul Powers: So, apart from the Soul Sight, the Soul Awareness, and the Exorcism abilities... Interpretation - Otherwise known as Soul Reading. For those who can perceive the state of the soul, there is more to learn than just the surface. Their intentions, state of mind, and even capabilities can also be gleaned from whatever being Ryoko happens to be scanning. Basically, her Sight learns more. She can see the way you shape your abilities, when the power is charging for an attack, and whether you're truly worthy of a butt-kicking. (It is possible for her to pick up on subtle vibes that indicate a person feels trapped or has no choice but to act the way they do, or other things like that.) This is a tactical ability to know thy enemy. Know thy friends too, really. Same drawbacks as Soul Sight. It's a little obvious when she's used it. Distortion - Now, here's a fun one. Ryoko creates audio and visual hallucination to varying degrees. At its weakest, you feel like you're drunk and you might fall down. At its worse, the effect is nausea-inducing, headache-inducing, massively-imbalancing, and you may not be able to get up for some time IF you don't black out first. It's not focused ON the mind, though she can instill it in ONE individual if she manages physical contact. Otherwise, it's projected in the real world as warping of the light to confuse your eyes and a noise that affects the eardrums to confuse your balance and coordination. It works by projecting her own energy out into the sound and light in an area, then giving it a twist to make it harmful. (If she have physical contact with someone, their soul gets this direct.) She can narrow it to a direction to minimize collateral, but if it's against a group, the field is wide and can affect EVERYONE. It's like that Batman character, Vertigo, basically. Soul Punch - Otherwise known as the Soul Impact. This ability allows Ryoko to transfer energy into impact, to make it stronger than it normally would. Now, she is physically fit, so a kick from her probably hurts. Therefore, a Soul Impact kick would normally put someone in the hospital. It takes only a small amount of energy per hit, as she can't just super-charge One Punch beyond belief, but if she has to do a flurry of moves, they will add up. It's a simple and straightforward kind of move, but like Ryoko herself, it is the rough with the smooth. Although, as an added bonus, she CAN transfer that force to an object and throw it, thus giving the actual object the oomph instead. Skills: Majoring in psychology, so she's excellent in observation and seeing a clear pattern of action in things. Great driver and decent at mechanical repairs, as well. Tried the parkour thing, but it wasn't really for her. Learned to fight, instead. Not an expert, but skilled enough in self-defense to feel confident. She can speak, read, and write Japanese and English. Personal Belongings: Wallet, keys, cellphone, backpack, tablet, notepad, pens, books, etc. She keeps Hammerhead in either a garage or just around where there's a parking space. Background: Beginning! Born in Saitama - No, not that one. - Ryoko was born in the heart of a very ordinary childhood with few outlyers. Because life was seemingly very predictable, she became highly-observant of occurrances that were outside of the norm. And rather than disapproviing of of things that seemed outlandish like some people, she became curious and examined them, trying to find out the WHY. From there, she took more of an interest in foreign shows, including one about three idiots who would talk about cars and do crazy things in them. A certain love of cars and of foreign culture budded about then. It was a decent life. Her parents were a little concerned by her actions, but as long as she remained a studious academic - that there was no indicator that these habits made her grades slip - they were okay with it. Actually, they were being quite reasonable, especially when Ryoko explained that the departure from the norm allowed her to unwind more. In this way, she went through her education...which was struck suddenly by the suicide of a fellow classmate prior to exams. This led her to want to know more about the WHY in life, and how to address it properly, a line of reasoning which led her to study in Psychology. She wanted to help people and prevent tragedies such as this. This was rather heavy - and heady - work, and Ryoko felt that her sampling was a little too small in Japan. Taking a page from her favorite podcast - The Traveling Hatto-san - she decided to get out from where she lived, and not just cross-country...but out of it! She was going to study abroad, and because she needed to be able to get around, she and her parents worked to finance a car, which would be waiting for her in California to drive all the way to the Eastern side of Pennsylvania and the college awaiiting her therein. Yes, a road trip, somewhere in the neighborhood of two thousand miles...in the perfect car. Ryoko had bought a refurbished classic, the Ford Mustang Scorpion, much like the one driven in Starman by the most laid-back human alive, Jeff Bridges. The trip allowed her to properly absorb American culture and get use to life here. She was gonna be in for a while. However, once she got to Ben Franklin University, Ryoko had NO IDEA what was going to turn up next. Relationships: Ryo and Kari Yumekishi - Parents, both living Gets on with most people, but doesn't know that many people in this country.</s> <\|message\|>Leo Wedemire 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> <\|message\|>Lucas Hillcrest Lucas Hillcrest Lucas was currently on the second floor of the library off in a random corner that was secluded because it was surrounded by bookcases. It would make for the perfect hiding hole for any student wanting to study or have a quiet conversation. However if one were to round the corner that led to this small section of library, one would find it empty save for Lucas and a mound of books opened in front of him. However the redheaded youth was not doing any studying at the moment. He was sprawled out with his legs up on the table and a book open resting on his face. Ironically the title of said book was 'How to push through fatigue and keep going'. One could probably say whoever wrote the book obviously hadn't met Lucas. The only sign that Lucas was alive was a gentle snoring. Earlier Lucas had sat down in the library and was surrounding himself with books about insomnia and was currently filling a notebook up with notes and other useful things. Occasionally he would take a sip from his cup of coffee, though it had long since gone cold. The bags under his eyes a telling sign of his struggle to ever obtain sleep. He rubbed his eyes as even his notes were not making sense to him. Trying to think back he was pretty sure he had only gotten three hours of sleep in the last four days. Lucas knew he would crash soon, but whether or not that would be today or tomorrow was still up in the air. Lucas did know he needed a break though, and leaned back in the chair and kicked his legs up onto an empty portion of the table since he was alone and started reading from a new self-help book he had found a few days ago.</s> <\|message\|>Ella Blackheart Ella Blackheart Her outfit her hair Ella was well aware of the people around her, she was aware of Blake and Leo, heck she was aware of Lucas and he wasn't even near her. She called it survival instinct but she has wondered if it was something more. She had nothing to show her french descent, she was French, German, and English which is to say a mix of British and American. Her long line of nationality was because of her family, she had a big family so she had too much history in her blood. She smiled towards Leo but said nothing as she poured herself back into her textbooks. She was busy and unable to focus as textbooks started to fall, she had to move to catch them as they hit the floor with a bang. She covered her eyes embarrassed by what had happened. Her face turned red as she picked them up her focus breaking as she looked around and saw eyes on her, she flushed red and looked down embarrassed.</s>	<\|message\|>Ryoko Yumekishi It was a lovely day, wasn't it? And so, while many were in the library, there was one who was actually outside, right now. Well, for given measures of 'out'. Not too far from the library proper, parked up against the curb, was a black-and-red Ford Mustang, license plate 'HAMRHED'. The young lady inside sat in the passenger seat, one leg up with her foot against dashboard and keeping a book in place while she read. Ryoko had already been and gone from the bookshelves and studious campus-goers, having borrowed her lot for her work. She was taking in a book on Carl Jung while simultaneously shutting out the world, and yet inviting it into her senses passively. Windows were down, and her music list had changed to a song that was just asking for trouble, but she liked it along with the show and game she'd heard it from, so it stayed as she pressed on. Ryoko's study in psychology was not just a simple reading and repetition of facts on paper. When she was not trying to figure out people, she was absorbing atmosphere both inside and out, to gain a feel for where people's reactions would lie in certain conditions. It was right alongside with the whole nature-versus-nurture argument of what marks you more in development. Personally, and perhaps the point of the argument was always to encourage this, Ryoko found that there was no way it couldn't be a matter of equal-footing in the normal development of a personality. Take her, for instance. Traditional upbringings, respect for her parents, and a certain pressure in the back of her mind to succeed so that the rest of the world looked favorably on her family...AND YET, here she was in Philadelphia in the United States, leaning back in her American car with her jeans and her music playing and so on. Who really ruled in this dichotomy? Her parents had helped her establish this on the promise that they would hear good things, and she was personally very motivated to pursue Psych because of the events in her life. Of course, I'm gonna have to take a break at some point. When was that event about the fossil suppose to be again? Major-wise, archaeology had little to do with her field, but history had a place in understanding where people came from mentally as much as physically, so it was kind of a 'Why not?' sort of thing. Besides, it could be interesting.</s>
<\|description\|>Ryoko Yumekishi "Okay... I've become an anime protagonist. Discuss!" Gender: Female Age: 21 Nationality: Japanese Appearance: With a picture to start out with... Ryoko stands a fairly-average 5'10", and a reasonable athlete. She is not a track star runner, just physically fit, having grown up in the standard lifestyle of Japan...and then living an American one. Not a traditionalist, she often wears jeans, t-shirt, and jacket and never anything formal. The rugged comfort of a motorbiker's clothes or something similarly tough that doesn't look bad even with wear-and-tear has always appealed to her more than style. Certainly, this has nothing to do with the presenters of a popular car show who eventually left that show to start ANOTHER car show that was very popular. The look that she went for was essentially the smooth and calm exterior crossed with the rough sort of coating that says she isn't afraid to get her hands dirty. She doesn't have any scars or unusual markings. She looks good and looks the way she likes. As for the odd color in her eyes... Well, they are officially classified as 'maroon', which people can get for an eye color. Whether that's actually what happened there is anybody's guess. She never thought anything of it, herself. Personality: No picture here, of course. Part of the reason Ryoko is the way she is has to do with her growing up wondering how people will react to a sudden change. Now, she didn't do anything TOO outlandish, but usually defying convention just a little in Japan is enough. You see, Japan is very often a stressful society to live in. People are pressured to succeed for the honor of their family and to themselves. This sort of thing has had a profound effect on Ryoko, because she had been in classes where a student committed suicide before a critical examn. It really happens, and it's always terrible when it does. And it's things like that that make you ask 'Why?'. Why do these things happen? What possible influences make a person one way or another, and how can the more harmful aspects be stopped? Because of all that, Ryoko is studying psychology, and is a noted observer of behaviors, emotional reactions, and various influences on the human psyche. She lives a life that is different from the norm because {A} she likes it and {B} she believes it to be more healthy. The words 'Let's not get bogged down' from her favorite show have real meaning in the psychological department. If you let yourself get hampered to the point of mental paralysis over a problem, terrible things may befall you before you cross the bridge you were worrying about. Ryoko is, therefore, a young lady looking to fix problems - fix people - before they break completely. She examines the world by being disarming and unexpected in her manner, then offering a helping hand once you remove your jaw from the floor. Soul Powers: So, apart from the Soul Sight, the Soul Awareness, and the Exorcism abilities... Interpretation - Otherwise known as Soul Reading. For those who can perceive the state of the soul, there is more to learn than just the surface. Their intentions, state of mind, and even capabilities can also be gleaned from whatever being Ryoko happens to be scanning. Basically, her Sight learns more. She can see the way you shape your abilities, when the power is charging for an attack, and whether you're truly worthy of a butt-kicking. (It is possible for her to pick up on subtle vibes that indicate a person feels trapped or has no choice but to act the way they do, or other things like that.) This is a tactical ability to know thy enemy. Know thy friends too, really. Same drawbacks as Soul Sight. It's a little obvious when she's used it. Distortion - Now, here's a fun one. Ryoko creates audio and visual hallucination to varying degrees. At its weakest, you feel like you're drunk and you might fall down. At its worse, the effect is nausea-inducing, headache-inducing, massively-imbalancing, and you may not be able to get up for some time IF you don't black out first. It's not focused ON the mind, though she can instill it in ONE individual if she manages physical contact. Otherwise, it's projected in the real world as warping of the light to confuse your eyes and a noise that affects the eardrums to confuse your balance and coordination. It works by projecting her own energy out into the sound and light in an area, then giving it a twist to make it harmful. (If she have physical contact with someone, their soul gets this direct.) She can narrow it to a direction to minimize collateral, but if it's against a group, the field is wide and can affect EVERYONE. It's like that Batman character, Vertigo, basically. Soul Punch - Otherwise known as the Soul Impact. This ability allows Ryoko to transfer energy into impact, to make it stronger than it normally would. Now, she is physically fit, so a kick from her probably hurts. Therefore, a Soul Impact kick would normally put someone in the hospital. It takes only a small amount of energy per hit, as she can't just super-charge One Punch beyond belief, but if she has to do a flurry of moves, they will add up. It's a simple and straightforward kind of move, but like Ryoko herself, it is the rough with the smooth. Although, as an added bonus, she CAN transfer that force to an object and throw it, thus giving the actual object the oomph instead. Skills: Majoring in psychology, so she's excellent in observation and seeing a clear pattern of action in things. Great driver and decent at mechanical repairs, as well. Tried the parkour thing, but it wasn't really for her. Learned to fight, instead. Not an expert, but skilled enough in self-defense to feel confident. She can speak, read, and write Japanese and English. Personal Belongings: Wallet, keys, cellphone, backpack, tablet, notepad, pens, books, etc. She keeps Hammerhead in either a garage or just around where there's a parking space. Background: Beginning! Born in Saitama - No, not that one. - Ryoko was born in the heart of a very ordinary childhood with few outlyers. Because life was seemingly very predictable, she became highly-observant of occurrances that were outside of the norm. And rather than disapproviing of of things that seemed outlandish like some people, she became curious and examined them, trying to find out the WHY. From there, she took more of an interest in foreign shows, including one about three idiots who would talk about cars and do crazy things in them. A certain love of cars and of foreign culture budded about then. It was a decent life. Her parents were a little concerned by her actions, but as long as she remained a studious academic - that there was no indicator that these habits made her grades slip - they were okay with it. Actually, they were being quite reasonable, especially when Ryoko explained that the departure from the norm allowed her to unwind more. In this way, she went through her education...which was struck suddenly by the suicide of a fellow classmate prior to exams. This led her to want to know more about the WHY in life, and how to address it properly, a line of reasoning which led her to study in Psychology. She wanted to help people and prevent tragedies such as this. This was rather heavy - and heady - work, and Ryoko felt that her sampling was a little too small in Japan. Taking a page from her favorite podcast - The Traveling Hatto-san - she decided to get out from where she lived, and not just cross-country...but out of it! She was going to study abroad, and because she needed to be able to get around, she and her parents worked to finance a car, which would be waiting for her in California to drive all the way to the Eastern side of Pennsylvania and the college awaiiting her therein. Yes, a road trip, somewhere in the neighborhood of two thousand miles...in the perfect car. Ryoko had bought a refurbished classic, the Ford Mustang Scorpion, much like the one driven in Starman by the most laid-back human alive, Jeff Bridges. The trip allowed her to properly absorb American culture and get use to life here. She was gonna be in for a while. However, once she got to Ben Franklin University, Ryoko had NO IDEA what was going to turn up next. Relationships: Ryo and Kari Yumekishi - Parents, both living Gets on with most people, but doesn't know that many people in this country.</s> <\|message\|>Blake Enders Blake Enders Blake had just found himself a book to read, a history book about the Byzantines, and headed back to his seat. When the college"s PA system came online and people outside could hear it. "Good afternoon students, for those that wish to attend the artifact viewing should precede to the presentation hall before all the seats are occupied, that is all" An audible "yes", coming from Blake as he heard the news. The artifact is here, that is sooner than I thought. I thought it will be here a bit later but, that is good enough for me. Blake thought with a smile and went to put his newfound book away. Time to see what this artifact is and all that he knows about it is that from Europe and not one is quite sure what it is for. Either way after the viewing, he gets the chance to help study it and boy is he excited for it. Passing by some students like a woman with blue hair and made his way to the presentation hall in a slight hurry. Blake does not want to be late or worse get there and no seats are left. Well time to see what this artifact looks like and learn more about it. Then Blake can get to the good part and he can not wait for that to happen.</s> <\|message\|>Ella Blackheart Ella Blackheart Ella smiled when she heard the news she did have some time to kill. . . but sadly with the announcement came another one. "Ella Blackheart please report to the veterinarian office. . . your presence has been requested by Dr. Rose." Ella rose from her seat and pushed out her chair gathering all her books up as she walked out of the office heading to the office. Dr. Rose: "Hello Ella. Our subject has arrived unfortunately because of your recent behavior you can not help us." Ella: "What! Ive been doing the most work out of the whole class!" Dr. Rose: "Detention Ella. You will have Detention after school tomorrow." Ella sat down and sat there knowing the others would be arriving soon but she decided not to stay there as she left and headed to her car blasting music loudly. She was given a car as a gift from her used-to-be friend. Her friend had paid for all of it so now Ella owned the car.</s> <\|message\|>Lucas Hillcrest Lucas Hillcrest Lucas tumbled backwards at the sudden noise of the PA speaker that was directly above his secluded space and landed with a small crash and groaned as he mumbled "Motherfucker..." Lucas rolled away from the chair and rubbed his sore back as he fixed the chair and chugged down what was left of his cold coffee. He glanced at his phone and rolled his eyes. He'd be more annoyed if it had not been a special announcement about something he was looking forward to. 48 minutes of sleep how annoying. The power nap was nice though, but man did he just long for a full 8 hours. He'd even be overjoyed for 4 hours. The fiery ginger readjusted his jeans that had slipped downward slightly when he fell and re-tucked his inner white shirt back into them as his green vest fell back into place on top. Chucking his cup into a nearby bin he left all the books where they had been as he would surely return after the artifact viewing was finished. Lucas was rubbing his eyes as he left the library and headed to where he needed to be and was hoping to score a fresh cup of coffee or a caffeine packed mountain dew. He would complain about neither.</s> <\|message\|>Leo Wedemire Leo Wedemire The young aspiring film maker was quickly engrossed in his book. Leo had to stifle a chuckle at an anecdote on the making of the Toxic Avenger, a little worried that if he began laughing he would be kicked out of the library. Leo then coughed, immediately hoping that he wasn't catching a cold, his book tumbling out of his hands and onto the floor of the library. Leo sighed as he picked up the book, having lost his page. As Leo attempted to find his page again, he looked up as movement near him caught the attention of his eye. A girl with blue hair was rustling through some textbooks, as she then looked at Leo, giving him a quick smile. Leo immediately felt a rush of chemicals as the pretty girl turned back to her textbooks. While Leo had been in relationships before, he had never been in a serious one. Perhaps that was why he still got giddy whenever a girl showed him any kind of attention. But Leo's musings were interrupted when the blue haired girl also dropped her books, but with her it was all her textbooks. They hit the floor with a loud bang as her face turned red. The loud clatter seemed to attract the attention of the other nearby students as they turned to see what the matter was. Leo knew how embarrassing this could be, so he purposively looked away, instead looking out the window. As Leo looked outside, he saw that a man had set up a hammock and was resting between two trees in front of the library. Leo was wondering where he got a hammock when the PA system turned on. Apparently the showing of the special artifact at the university was about to begin. Leo chided himself for forgetting that was today. He had been planning to record some footage on the artifact for his documentary class. Luckily Leo had kept his camera in his bag, so he wouldn't have to drive all the way to his apartment. So Leo put the book in his bag, figuring that he would find his page later. As he got up, Leo saw that the blue haired girl was gone. Leo decided then he should talk to her next time he saw her on campus. He then exited the library and started heading toward the presentation hall.</s>	<\|message\|>Ryoko Yumekishi As the music changed again in the car, but even as it did, there was an announcement audible to all, both inside and out, so naturally she heard it through the open window. Ryoko snapped her book shut and flipped herself over to the driver's side of the car. Hammerhead was a faithful recreation of the Ford Mustang Cobra II used in the movie, Starman, but per her own preference, the colors were reversed. The engine roared to life with the mighty heart of a powerful V-8 engine as Ryoko checked her phone for the location of the Presentation Ha- "Oh!" She leaned back in her seat, laughing to herself. "It's right over there." She put the car in pack again, locked it up as she got out, and headed on over, shaking her head. She noticed the hammock man, but thought nothing of it except that he must be comfee there, and instead caught up with another student that was going in the same direction. "So...you're going to see this artifact too, right? Do you happen to know what kind it is? I never got much information about it." For the record, Ryoko's English was pretty good, though an accent still showed when she was under stress or, in fact, when she was impersonating someone from a TV or radio show.</s>
<\|description\|>Bocri Sauburc Age: 36 Race: Human Home Planet: Coruscant Details: Bocri is allergic to bacta and as a result has had a number of injuries repaired with cybernetics.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri shot across the hanger floor, a blur to the clones, as he used the force to accelerate his speed. It was just in time as hundreds of blaster bolts split the air where had been, and where he would have been if he were an average human. The wall where he had stood turned nearly black in an instant as the energy of the bolts singed the plate and, in a couple of spots, buckled them slightly. Helmeted heads were just starting to turn, tracking the blur of his movement, the ugly bulk of the blasters only a split second behind, as he reached the ladder that led to the control booth. He pushed down with the force and shot into the air, even as he slid his blaster back into its holster. The catwalk shuddered as he landed with a thud. The clones below were moving more quickly now, some of them likely could figure out his next move. At this range a moving target would be hard to hit and the marksmen among them were already taking a knee. The hanger was fifty yards wide and the catwalk went the entire distance. Another force sprint was liable to tax him too much and make what was coming next nearly impossible. He began to run, light sabre flashing as he batted away the bolts that were increasingly getting closer. The smell of ozone was so thick it overpowered the usual smell of maintenance chemicals and fuel cells. His whole vision was tinged red from the volume of energy that was coming his way. One concussion grenade, then a second, he sent them spinning out into the hanger bay and watched as clones dove for cover before they exploded, sowing more chaos into the space. Angry shout - commands to fire - were faint below. The catwalk was absorbing some of the bolts and the heat was beginning to buckle, as the plates of the hanger bay wall had done. He was dimly aware of Hirani trying to reach out to him through the force but he had no time to spare for her. This was no time for distraction. He was going to die here if he didn't put maximum effort into it. Once he was safe he would check on her. Ahead of him the control booth door had shot open and in that instant he accelerated again, using the force to pull himself toward trooper who had stepped out, his blaster aimed at Bocris chest. Bocri slammed into the clone and the two of them tumbled into the control room, bouncing off the wall and onto the floor. Bocri recovered first and his light sabre flashed, cleaving the clone from waist to shoulder as he tried to rise from the ground. There was pain in Bocris own shoulder and he spared a glance to see his flight suit was cut and blood was seeping through the material. No time. He lunged to his feet just in time to see several troopers below hurling concussion grenades upward at the open door. He tripped the switch door with a twitch of his hand and then yanked down the lever that controlled the magnetic shield protecting the hanger bay from the vacuum of space. The grenades seemed to hang in the air for a brief moment before they, and everything else in the bay not attached to something, were sucked into space. One was lodged against a transport and the explosion blew a wing off the vessel. He could hear the screams of the clones, feel their terror - especially those he had known well - and the realization that they were going to die. Most had a brief moment of regret and that caught him off guard. A select few were angry, perhaps at their failure, be he would never know. The Jedi star fighters were hurled into space, and the two large transports, one now burning, skittered across the floor after them before finally toppling into space. A rack of Republic fighters jerked violently at their mountings but held firm. Any number of other items went as well, all of it vanishing into the darkness beyond. He slumped down on the only chair in the space and rested his head on the console for the moment. The better part of three hundred clones had been in the bay when he first started his run and now not a single one remained. Why? What had he missed? There was nothing logical about what had just happened. The Clones were a fundamental part of the Republic, as much as the Jedi, it made no sense. "Bocri?" The tug at his mind snapped him back to the reality of his situation. "Hirani. The clones turned on me," What else could he say. "I have vented the hanger bay. The landing party is all gone. Are you okay?"</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- The twi'lek knew she was heard but the lack of response from Bocri left her concerned. It wasn't a new thing for him to not answer her calls while engaged in battle, but this wasn't a typical scenario. They were being hunted by their own and she needed to tell him about this Order 66 and the clones sudden change in mindset. She could only hope that he was in a good position despite the chorus of explosions she was hearing. The troopers were momentarily stunned from having been flung down the hallway and she took this moment to completely immobilize them. She kept her saber in her right hand, but did not ignite it while she walked briskly towards the fallen clones. Even though they meant to shoot her down, Hirani couldn't bring herself to use her deadly weapon against them. Raising her left arm, she reached out a with a slender purple hand towards the troops and pushed their bodies down into the floor, keeping them from reaching anything that would otherwise spell bad news for her. They struggled against her, she could feel it, but it wasn't particularly difficult for her to keep the five cloned men from rising. She thought about removing their helmets and hitting their temples squarely with the hilt of her saber to knock them out but she ultimately decided she wanted to be more gentle than that. She was going to put them to sleep. Through the force she threw a blanket of calm over the men, willing their bodies to relax and tricking their brain into thinking it was time to sleep. One by one she waved her hand over their covered faces and felt their consciousness slip away into deep sleep. They would be like this long enough for her to return to her rooms, quickly retrieve some extremely important belongings, and make a swift getaway. Once in her rooms, she grabbed her brown leather bag that she used to carry all of her medical supplies. In additional to various tools, bandages, medicines, and ointments, this also included numerous crystals and talismans that would amplify her healing abilities through the force. They were not as potent as the ones she used back in the Halls of Healing at the Jedi Temple, but they were potent enough for her to feel compelled to run back for and if they were going to be on the run, they would be invaluable. In the midst of Hirani's packing, her hands slowed at the sudden rush of fear and panic from hundreds of clones. She called out again. "Bocri?" This time, he answered. "Hirani. The clones turned on me. I have vented the hangar bay, the landing party is all gone. Are you ok?" The relief she felt over his response was mixed with sorrow. Being thrust into the vacuum of space would be a painful death as their bodies fought to breathe while the cold emptiness of space sucked away their warmth. "I am fine. I was forced to put some troopers to sleep as they tried to gun me down and I am in my room collecting some things should we need to break away from the ship. CC-9547 said 'Order 66 has been initiated' and we are to be executed for treason against the Republic?"</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- "I am fine. I was forced to put some troopers to sleep as they tried to gun me down and I am in my room collecting some things should we need to break away from the ship. CC-9547 said 'Order 66 has been initiated' and we are to be executed for treason against the Republic?" What the crik was Order 66?... Bocri was having a hard time processing; between having just vented nearly three hundred people into space that he had known on a first name basis, the pain in his shoulder, and the slowly dawning knowledge that all the pain he had felt through the force was likely his Jedi comrades being slaughtered. "I want to say they can't be serious but after what just happened down here..." His words dropped away as he hissed in pain. He drew a kolto bandage from his belt, one of the two he had, and worked it into place over his shoulder. The soothing sensation began at once and he swung his arm a couple times to ensure he could move freely. They were hardly out of trouble yet. "The rest of the clones will be looking for us." He said as he projected his thoughts to Hirani once again. "We won't be able to get off this ship as long as they control the bridge. They'll blow us out of space." He glanced up the steel plating above his head. The bridge was a long run from where he was, but not so far from Hirani. Between him and that bridge, somewhere on this ship, were another three hundred clones, give or take however many Hirani had dealt with. Perhaps if he got into the main ducts? Not an original idea, but one that will skip the majority of the clones, I hope. He was musing to himself as he looked upward at the roof of the control cabin. One of the first things he had done when he came aboard was familiarize himself with every aspect of the ship in the off chance they had to repel boarders. Well, now he was the boarding party. "Can you make it to the bridge?" He asked Hiarni. "I am going into the ducts and will make my way there. Will you be able to meet me?" It was a chance, but it was the only one they had at the moment. He ignited his lightsaber, cut a hole in the ceiling, and leapt effortlessly into the vent above him; he began to run.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- "I want to say they can't be serious but after what just happened down here…" Hirani shared his sentiment, but something was just horribly wrong. A power play had been made from pieces they didn't even know were on the board. Through their bond, she felt the trickles of the pain he was feeling but she was confident it wasn't something that he couldn't handle on his own until she could see to him. As a healer, she couldn't help feeling compelled to see to his injuries at that moment. At this feeling, she finished packing her bag quickly, clasped it securely and flung it over her shoulder. They had to get to safety first. The familiar call of Bocri reached out to her again. "The rest of the clones will be looking for us. We won't be able to get off this ship as long as they control the bridge. They'll blow us out of space." Hirani sent her consciousness towards the bridge. It was only two floors above her with limited personnel inside but heavily protected by blast doors that would magnetically seal if engaged. She was no splicer, so hacking her way in wasn't an option if they were locked. She could melt the door slowly with her saber, but that would leave her vulnerable. Her last option would be to infiltrate the minds of one of the clones inside to make him open the doors for her, it was the fastest outcome for her. "Can you make it to the bridge? I am going into the ducts and will make my way there. Will you be able to meet me? "Yes, let's hope the doors aren't locked when we get there. Otherwise, it's not heavily manned if you have to take it by yourself. Just enough clones needed to monitor the ship and maintain our position in orbit." she replied. Hirani tightened the strap of her bag so that it wouldn't swing wildly across her body as she moved and called to her right hand her saber that she had placed on the bed when she first re-entered the room. She stepped out into the hallway once more and borrowed the keycard from CC-9547's unconscious body so that she could hopefully access the bridge without alerting the pilots inside. As she took her first step away from the sleeping clones, she willed her body to move faster and force sprinted the rest of the way to the elevator. At its doors, she swiped the borrowed key card against the reader to instruct the machine to open. The clones must've taken it to her floor. Ding. The doors slowly opened to reveal the empty booth and Hirani extended a purple hand to the panel to direct the elevator to the top floor that housed the bridge.</s>	<\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri could have hugged whoever designed the Republics military fleet. The vents were large, not big enough for him to stand upright, but certainly large enough for him to move through at a quick jog while doubled over. "Just enough clones needed to monitor the ship and maintain our position in orbit." Hirani was right, that meant there was still a considerable number of armed and dangerous troopers anywhere on the ship at this moment, and they were certainly looking for the two jedi. "Be careful, see you soon. He replied quickly even as he launched himself upward into the vents of the next level. He knew that Master Kenobi has tried a similar trick on a Federation battle cruiser and the crew had been unable to track them, he hoped the Republic had not thought to correct that oversight. His travel through the vents turned out to be a somewhat educational experience. There were multiple various types and it was quickly obvious he had chosen the heat exchange vents as blasts of hot air came ripping by on a regular basis. Sometimes it smelled of food, the galley venting, or sweaty feet, likely a sleeping quarters, once the smell of engine solvents, which could only be the small shuttle bay since the main bay was still venting into open space. From time to time he could feel the presence of clones as they searched the ship. Interestingly enough, he could sense a measure of fear and panic among most of them. It seemed that they were well aware that the loss of surprise was not working in their favour. Once he paused to listen as a squad passed below him. "They're both gone." "That isn't good. I heard the medics can't wake CC-9547 and his squad from whatever Master Hirani did to them." "I thought I had some idea of how strong they were, but I guess not. Five in a dead sleep we can't fix and hundreds vented to space by Master Bocri." Their voices faded as they passed on. Behind them they left feelings of terror and anxiety. Part of Bocri was angry at the situation, but he was fairly certain that the clones were not responsible for what was happening. Not that it mattered, the only friend he had left on this ship was Hirani. "Where are you?" He launched the question to Hirani. He could sense her closer now as he clambered up vents and gained deck levels. If he could join with her, they would be able to take the bridge quickly and quietly.</s>
<\|description\|>Bocri Sauburc Age: 36 Race: Human Home Planet: Coruscant Details: Bocri is allergic to bacta and as a result has had a number of injuries repaired with cybernetics.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- "I am down the hallway from the blast doors to the bridge. Right outside the elevator doors." Hirani peaked down the crisp white hallway from her position around the corner towards the bridge as she communicated with Bocri. The entire floor was actually unoccupied apart from herself and the handful of clones that ran the bridge. She slid down the wall while turning her had back from the hallway to sit on the floor to meditate. The bag she carried was now positioned in her lap and was being used as a resting place for her clasped hands. Closing her eyes, the Jedi began to meditate. Through her trance, she began to take note of the positions of the clones, the remaining hundreds were scurrying about the ship like ants when you kicked their hill. The altered clones were filled with overwhelming anxiety and Hirani was starting to think that is was perhaps for the best. She didn't want to fight her former allies and had hope that they would be weary to confront the two Jedi. But she knew it was a foolish wish. These men were created to be an efficient army and they proved that they will follow any order given, no matter how cruel. Redirecting her consciousness to the bridge, Hirani began to familiarize herself with the thoughts of the clones inside. If she needed to, she could control the actions of one, befuddle the thoughts of them all for Bocri to execute an easy takeover, or she could also put these clones to sleep like she did to CC-9547's group which would be the most gentle route. She reached out to her human partner, "Bocri, I'm in a position where I can put the clones to sleep if you'd like? It would only take me a bit of time… "</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc CT-35479 (Captain Rathis) --- Fear. Anger. Confusion. A whirlwind of emotions gripped CT-35479, Captain Rathis, as he stood on the bridge of the Corellian Dawn and listened to the hundreds of frantic calls for help that quickly dwindled into silence; the hanger below venting into space. For a few brief moments he could see bodies in white armour tumbling away from the ship until they were lost among the stars. What had gone wrong? Three hundred troopers in that hanger bay and now nothing but silence. "CT-98546, report." He keyed his mic, trying to raise the trooper who had been responsible for overseeing the death of the traitor Bocri. Silence. Ominous silence. "CT-98546, do you read me, over?" The comm waves remained utterly silent. Not even a whisper or flicker of static to suggest someone was trying to key their mic. "CT-9547, report." He addressed the second squad now, those being sent to deal with Hirani. She was in her quarters and should prove a quick task for the elite clone troopers sent to kill her. "Entering her hall now." A moment of silence. "Making contact now." The second turned into ten seconds, and then into thirty. Rathis glanced around the bridge at the remainder of his crew, none of whom looked back at him. "CT-9547, update." Comms silence. No blaster fire. No explosions. Nothing. "What is going on down there?" He finally snapped at a nearby crewman who was flipping through the cameras that covered major intersections throughout the ship, as well as any turbo-lift doors. He silently cursed the Chancellor for not giving them more warning of his intentions to arrest the Jedi. "There is no sign of CT-9547, or his squad." The crewman replied, still flipping through various camera feeds. Other corridors showed clones moving about in disciplined groups as they reacted to the emergency klaxons that blared throughout much of the ship. "Show me the hanger bay." Rathis ordered and waited as the screens were brought up. Half of them were damaged beyond use by the explosions and none covered the control booth where Bocri had been last seen. Rathis began to feel a ball of anxiety form in his gut. Nothing was going as it should have. He eyes raced over the control panels as he searched for any indication of what might be happening. Other than the alarms for the hanger bay, everything was exactly as it should be. That still meant there was one, if not two, Jedi now loose on his ship. "Tell the gun crews to blast anything that attempts to leave the ship. We cant have them trying to esca[e in a fighter or troop transport." There was only one other hanger that could handle the larger craft, and the smaller executive hanger. "I want thirty troopers at each of the remaining hangers. The rest can begin sweeping the ship, starting with the lower levels. Check everything, vents, garbage compactors, nothing can be missed." Comms blazed to life as orders went out and he was relieved to see some semblance of order returning to the ship as the clones moved quickly and purposefully to carry out their orders. It gave one a sense of pride to see it. Minutes passed and squads continued to check in regularly, all clear. Engineers were trying to restore order to the hanger bay but the concussion grenade explosion had shaken wiring loose and the bridge command consoles were unable to reactive the magnetic shield. They had no way of knowing that a lightsaber had slashed through the cables. Squads were just reaching the lower decks of the ship when one of the command crew suddenly jolted upright in his seat. "Uh, sir, sir!" He was waving frantically and Rathis practically ran to his side. A chill ran through him at the site of Master Hirani meditating in the hallway beyond the bridge doors. She was practically inside and he had sent the rest of his clones to the lower decks! He opened his mouth to say something but at that very moment a gentle touch caressed his brain and he found himself feeling terribly sleepy. His fingers scrabbled for the control console even as his knees hit the deck. His tongue didn't seem to want to work as he keeled over sideways, the crewman who had manned the console landing half across his legs, a glazed expression on his face. It was with detached interest he observed Master Bocri appear in the hallway next to Master Hirani. It was not his concern anymore though. He was so very tired. He blinked his eyelids once, twice, and then blackness welcomed him.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- With her task complete, the Jedi opened her eyes slowly to focus on Bocri. Without a second thought she stood to place a purple hand over the bandage on his shoulder and began to pour her own life energy into his open wound. The kolto infused bandage did a good job expediting the body's natural healing process, but she took it to a higher level. If one were to watch, they could see the wound close before their very eyes as muscle and skin cells reformed to become as whole as they once were before shot by a blaster. Hirani felt the pull on herself, as she always did when she healed, and left it so a faint scar was left upon his shoulder. It was nothing permanent and would rectify itself over time naturally. Once finished, she tapped his cheek gently with the same hand that she used to heal his shoulder. "Come, they're fast asleep." Hirani rearranged her bag to lay against her back and confidently turned the corner to walk onto the bridge of the Corellian Dawn. The twi'lek took a moment to appreciate the scene before her, a serene picture of deeply unconscious clones slumped in their chairs and sprawled over the consoles that controlled the every aspect of the cruiser. Despite the horrific circumstances that they found themselves in, Hirani was glad to have avoided killing any troopers herself so far but she knew it was like to change fairly quickly if they didn't find a way off this ship. "Bocri, will you help me to drag them outside before we seal ourselves in here?" As she voice her question, Hirani moved towards the closest clone and began dragging him from his chair to place him against the wall across the hallway.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri moved to help Hirani without comment. He was feeling far less charitable toward their would be assassins than his partner but murder wasn't something he could square with at the moment, well, not killing the sleeping men with a blaster bolt to the head at any rate. It took them several minutes to clear the bridge and he could hear the units from the lower decks continue to check in. They were becoming increasingly agitated with the lack of response from the bridge however and it was only a matter of time before they rushed back to check on their comrades. The last clone was heaved out onto into the corridor and the two jedi retreated inside. They hadn't spoken at all. Bocri was wrestling with his anger at the presumed deaths of so many comrades and was trying hard to keep a lid on the rage that was threatening to spill out. "Mind the door." He said as Hirani followed him back onto the bridge. It slammed shut as he triggered it, and then the blast doors closed a moment later. He moved across to another console and pulled up a screen, glancing at his companion who was watching him carefully. "I am going to turn off the artificial gravity, stand by." He tapped several commands into the console and a moment later the artificial gravity in the ship, everywhere except the bridge, shut down. He could see clones begin to float in the corridors they were patrolling and soon every room he looked at was filled with floating debris. "And now..." It took him but a moment to do what came next and it would stay with him for the rest of his life, however short it may be. He opened every blast door he could and shut down every magnetic field on the ship, save for the bridge. The whole process was meant to assist in fire fighting but at the moment it served just as well to vent the entirety of the remaining clones, including those in the corridor, into space.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- The tidal wave of fear that she felt nearly sent Hirani over the edge and into the abyss. The twi'lek stumbled forward into the blast door, gasping for air like the hundreds of remaining clones that were ejected into the void of space. She nearly forgot that they had been safe on the bridge and fought to regain control of her mind, body, and soul. While she had felt the previous clones that Bocri flung out of the ship, these individuals were much closer and thus able to affect her so. The only comforting thought was that at least the ones she put asleep wouldn't register the pain their body was going through as it died. Hirani inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled slowly out of her mouth. She could understand why it had to be done, but perhaps he could have warned her so that she could have shielded herself from their plight. Moving forward, she would have to place a barrier on her mind from passively feeling the emotions of others as Hirani could only assume things would get worse from here. What she could never shut out, however, was Bocri. Their bond prevented her from closing herself off from him and him from her. She could feel his anger and he would most certainly have felt her panic. Hirani opened her mouth to speak and croaked. Reaching into her bag, she grabbed her water canteen to help clear her throat. After two gulps, she tried again. "What is the plan now? It's not like we can use this ship or any of it's fighters to leave this sector." Her voice was husky, but functioning. She took another swig to help it along.</s>	<\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Despite his anger, Bocri was instantly aware of the pain that he has caused Hirani. He felt shame and regret at once, he should have warned her and at least spared her that sudden trauma he had just inflicted on her. On another day he might have drawn her into a hug but now was not the time, there would be a moment later when they had escaped in which they could sort out emotion. He offered her an apologetic smile and then tapped on the console in front of him. A number of Clone fighters were still out there, so far none of them seemed very interested in the ship as they were formed up some distance off the bow. There was really only one option left as far as Bocri could see it. He couldn't operate the turbolaser batteries, not in any efficient manner anyway. Jedi were skilled at many things, but operating technology over a distance was not one of them. The pilots were too far away for any sort of mind control, which only Hirani could manage anyway. "We crash the ship into the planet." He said quietly. "Set it on a collision course and then, as we get close to the surface, launch all the escape pods, with us in one of them. I'll call a mayday shortly and do my best to fake some sort of emergency to throw off the pilots out there, though I suspect that they will see the others floating in space when they come closer and likely think it's real." He paused and glanced at Hirani. "Does that suit you?"</s>
<\|description\|>Bocri Sauburc Age: 36 Race: Human Home Planet: Coruscant Details: Bocri is allergic to bacta and as a result has had a number of injuries repaired with cybernetics.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri moved to help Hirani without comment. He was feeling far less charitable toward their would be assassins than his partner but murder wasn't something he could square with at the moment, well, not killing the sleeping men with a blaster bolt to the head at any rate. It took them several minutes to clear the bridge and he could hear the units from the lower decks continue to check in. They were becoming increasingly agitated with the lack of response from the bridge however and it was only a matter of time before they rushed back to check on their comrades. The last clone was heaved out onto into the corridor and the two jedi retreated inside. They hadn't spoken at all. Bocri was wrestling with his anger at the presumed deaths of so many comrades and was trying hard to keep a lid on the rage that was threatening to spill out. "Mind the door." He said as Hirani followed him back onto the bridge. It slammed shut as he triggered it, and then the blast doors closed a moment later. He moved across to another console and pulled up a screen, glancing at his companion who was watching him carefully. "I am going to turn off the artificial gravity, stand by." He tapped several commands into the console and a moment later the artificial gravity in the ship, everywhere except the bridge, shut down. He could see clones begin to float in the corridors they were patrolling and soon every room he looked at was filled with floating debris. "And now..." It took him but a moment to do what came next and it would stay with him for the rest of his life, however short it may be. He opened every blast door he could and shut down every magnetic field on the ship, save for the bridge. The whole process was meant to assist in fire fighting but at the moment it served just as well to vent the entirety of the remaining clones, including those in the corridor, into space.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- The tidal wave of fear that she felt nearly sent Hirani over the edge and into the abyss. The twi'lek stumbled forward into the blast door, gasping for air like the hundreds of remaining clones that were ejected into the void of space. She nearly forgot that they had been safe on the bridge and fought to regain control of her mind, body, and soul. While she had felt the previous clones that Bocri flung out of the ship, these individuals were much closer and thus able to affect her so. The only comforting thought was that at least the ones she put asleep wouldn't register the pain their body was going through as it died. Hirani inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled slowly out of her mouth. She could understand why it had to be done, but perhaps he could have warned her so that she could have shielded herself from their plight. Moving forward, she would have to place a barrier on her mind from passively feeling the emotions of others as Hirani could only assume things would get worse from here. What she could never shut out, however, was Bocri. Their bond prevented her from closing herself off from him and him from her. She could feel his anger and he would most certainly have felt her panic. Hirani opened her mouth to speak and croaked. Reaching into her bag, she grabbed her water canteen to help clear her throat. After two gulps, she tried again. "What is the plan now? It's not like we can use this ship or any of it's fighters to leave this sector." Her voice was husky, but functioning. She took another swig to help it along.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Despite his anger, Bocri was instantly aware of the pain that he has caused Hirani. He felt shame and regret at once, he should have warned her and at least spared her that sudden trauma he had just inflicted on her. On another day he might have drawn her into a hug but now was not the time, there would be a moment later when they had escaped in which they could sort out emotion. He offered her an apologetic smile and then tapped on the console in front of him. A number of Clone fighters were still out there, so far none of them seemed very interested in the ship as they were formed up some distance off the bow. There was really only one option left as far as Bocri could see it. He couldn't operate the turbolaser batteries, not in any efficient manner anyway. Jedi were skilled at many things, but operating technology over a distance was not one of them. The pilots were too far away for any sort of mind control, which only Hirani could manage anyway. "We crash the ship into the planet." He said quietly. "Set it on a collision course and then, as we get close to the surface, launch all the escape pods, with us in one of them. I'll call a mayday shortly and do my best to fake some sort of emergency to throw off the pilots out there, though I suspect that they will see the others floating in space when they come closer and likely think it's real." He paused and glanced at Hirani. "Does that suit you?"</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- "We have been together long enough for me to trust your judgement on such things." Hirani said simply as she joined him at the console, her voice having regained most of it's normal function. She could pilot her fighter and smaller vehicles well enough, but a vessel of the Corellian Dawn was beyond her skill. "So long as we don't crash and burn along with the ship, I'll be happy." The healer worked to make herself as neutral as possible and that task had significantly increased in difficulty since she became bonded with Bocri. Jedi are taught not to be ruled by their emotions and to improve themselves with knowledge and training, amongst an overall theme of being a guardian of peace. How one went about fulfilling that role was based on an individual's skill and affinity with the force. The twi'lek peaked at the monitor as it showed some functions she was familiar with and a lot more that she was not. "Is there… anything you need me to do?" she asked meekly, weary of the answer she would receive. She often found herself willing to put herself outside of her comfort zone for Bocri and the only other individual she had bonded with to this degree was her former master, a door which she shut tight deep within herself to keep the pain of their loss from resurfacing. Later, when they have found a safe place to rest is when she'll allow herself to mourn and process the emotions that she could not help to feel but suppressed in the face of the threat in front of them. Hirani had a creeping feeling that the trial set before them would test them to their very core. Would they still be able to uphold the Jedi Code or will they loose themselves to the dark side and the suffering that accompanied it?</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri touched Hirani's shoulder so that she looked at him and offered a weak smile. It wasn't much, but it was something given the situation. "Just trust me, as you always do, and hang on." He turned back to the monitors and for a brief second his reflection stared back at him. His skin, as black as ebony, made his shape look like a shadow, a shadow with a single red eye. His prosthetics would be hard to hide, but that was a problem for future Bocri. "Start jettisoning the escape pods, only one every minute or so, make sure one remains." He instructed Hirani as his finger danced over the console. The recon fighters that had been sent out would be returning soon and it was important that they have no reason to think either Jedi was still alive. The ship responded quickly to his touch as Hirani launched the first escape pod. He hammered the ships "may-day" beacon that would be begin broadcasting all over the sector. There were no other major Republic starships nearby, that much he was sure. The returning fighters would quickly run into the debris field of everything he had vented, including their comrades. That would be an unpleasant surprise but he was making this whole thing up rather spur of the moment. Red light began to throb throughout the ship at once and the scream of damage control sirens sounded beyond the bridge doors. Operating the ship was remarkably easy, all he had to do was set its course for the planet surface, override the emergency alarm, and then step back. With the magnetic shields locked open, no living soul save for a Jedi would be able to make their way onto the ship. Hirani was still launching escape pods as the ship began its turn, the dagger shaped hull rolling over until it was pointed directly down at the planet. He couldn't operate the self-destruct as they needed three codes, one from him, one from Hirani, and the third from the Captain, who had been vented into space. An oversight on his part. There were other ways to wreck a ship however. "Get into the escape pod." He directed Hirani as he walked unhurriedly over to vacuum tube that served to carry physical objects all over the ship as quickly as possible. He pulled four thermal detonators from the small bridge weapons locker. They weren't much, but they would be enough to start a chain reaction of bigger problems with the ship spinning out of control. He set them each for one minute and then launched them to various different parts of the ship; engineering, operations, the magazine, and the galley. His steps were considerably quicker this time as he hurried to the escape pod and climbed inside with Hirani. She pushed the launch button and a "whoosh" followed by a light thud told them they were on the way. They fell away quickly into space, arcing toward the planets surface. The time ticked by his head until the detonators exploded. The vacuum of space would serve to extinguish any real fires but it did nothing to prevent the chain reaction of other shipboard explosions that quickly rippled throughout the craft. Bocri wrapped his arm around Hiranis waist and held her close, his head resting on her shoulder, as they looked back out through the viewport. He could feel exhaustion coming and his shoulder still burned something awful. The closeness, and her own inate skills, serve to sooth some of his pain. Above them, two small pinpricks of light shot toward the wounded destroyer, the scouts had returned. He could hear their cries of confusion and concern over the comlink that he now pulled from his ear and crushed in his prosthetic hand.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- The twi'lek followed Bocri's lead, removing her own comlink from her right ear cone and making the device float in the air momentarily before it seemed to collapse in on itself as Hirani used the force to destroy it. With that taken care of and the crumbled ball of metal discarded to the floor, she turned her attention towards the man that held her. Now that they were under less stress, his body was no longer producing the chemicals that allowed him to ignore the pain in his shoulder and maintain the high energy level needed for him to survive the betrayal they just experienced. She didn't know what awaited them once they reached the surface, so Hirani did what she could and tapped into herself to pour her life force into him so that he would at least no longer feel exhausted. The wound on his shoulder would take longer to rectify and they didn't have that luxury at the moment. It had been only a few minutes since they jettisoned from the ship but the pod was fast approaching the planet and they needed to be strapped in before they made entry to the planet. Hirani turned her face to his, her purple cheek stopping just short of his nose. "Bocri, we need to strap into the seats before the pod starts entering the atmosphere." The Jedi slid his arm from its embrace around her waist and mirrored her movements towards the seats lined along the walls of the escape pod. The bonded pair managed to strap themselves in just as the pod began to hit the outer layers Kijimi's atmosphere and the ride suddenly became a whole lot different. The transition from open space into the layers of gas that enveloped the planet was a violent one and the pod shook uncontrollably as it traveled through the atmosphere. The internal temperature rose several degrees as the outer protective layer lit ablaze with their entry. Hirani gripped Bocri's natural hand in her purple one for comfort… she was nervous. While the pod itself was well designed to withstand the pressures of landing, it wasn't designed to do it in any way that would be considered comfortable and in the mere minutes it took to reach the snowy surface of Kijimi, it only slowed down just enough for them to not disintegrate on it's rocky impact with the planet. The straps of their safety belts kept them from flying into the front of the pod but will definitely leave bruises on their bodies to later remind them of their ordeal. Hirani moaned softly in pain, her hand still tightly gripped to Bocri's as the flickering lights of the cabin fought to stay on.</s>	<\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc An hour later the two Jedi were already a kilometre from the crashed pod, their tracks in the snow erased almost immediately by the wind that howled across the frozen landscape. Beyond them, in the far distance, a massive debris cloud was climbing into the sky from where the cruiser had slammed into the planet. Nothing could be seen of the ship but it took little imagination to know what the wreck was going to look like. Local scavengers would feast for months, if not years, on a prize that size. They wore survival suits from inside the craft. One size fits all and one suit fits all climates was a hopeful claim printed on the interior label. He doubted the manufacturer had ever left Coruscant. He was luckier than Hirani, the suits were designed for humans and not a Twi'lek; the downside of all the Clone troopers being of one species. Her lekku were wrapped in the salvaged pieces of a third suit and then crammed into her hood as best they could manage. That meant more of her face was exposed to the cold than they might have liked but at least they were alive. Kijimi was a remote, frozen, and mountainous planet, but it boasted one major settlement, Kijimi City. The pods programming had brought them well within walking distance of the city and only Bocri forcing it to land sooner had put them down beyond the actual edge of the city proper. They had agreed that arriving on foot would attract less attention than slamming into the ground within shouting distance of any buildings. Bocri brushed a hand at his eyelids as they threatened to freeze together. His mechanical hand, even inside the suit, was moving sluggishly under the onslaught of the cold. He would need to get into the warmth soon to make sure it hadn't been damaged during the fight on the cruiser. He would have cursed his bacta allergy if he hadn't done it a million times before. Hirani had taken the lead for the last half a kilometre and her pace quickened as the first out buildings of the settlement now came into view around an icy outcropping. Bocri plowed after her, sinking almost up to his hips in snow that barely seemed to reach her ankles. He was physically and mentally exhausted. If they were attacked again right now he would be utterly useless to Hirani. She stopped as the building took shape from a dull grey thing in the driving snow to a more substantial looking structure. It had small recessed windows that glowed light and, judging from the size, could fit several families, if it was a house. There was only one way to find out. "Lead on, oh fearless one." He spoke at a normal level but brought his mouth close to the side of her head. The wind might be strong but it was blowing from behind them and would easily carry his yell into the settlement.</s>
<\|description\|>Bocri Sauburc Age: 36 Race: Human Home Planet: Coruscant Details: Bocri is allergic to bacta and as a result has had a number of injuries repaired with cybernetics.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- An hour later the two Jedi were already a kilometre from the crashed pod, their tracks in the snow erased almost immediately by the wind that howled across the frozen landscape. Beyond them, in the far distance, a massive debris cloud was climbing into the sky from where the cruiser had slammed into the planet. Nothing could be seen of the ship but it took little imagination to know what the wreck was going to look like. Local scavengers would feast for months, if not years, on a prize that size. They wore survival suits from inside the craft. One size fits all and one suit fits all climates was a hopeful claim printed on the interior label. He doubted the manufacturer had ever left Coruscant. He was luckier than Hirani, the suits were designed for humans and not a Twi'lek; the downside of all the Clone troopers being of one species. Her lekku were wrapped in the salvaged pieces of a third suit and then crammed into her hood as best they could manage. That meant more of her face was exposed to the cold than they might have liked but at least they were alive. Kijimi was a remote, frozen, and mountainous planet, but it boasted one major settlement, Kijimi City. The pods programming had brought them well within walking distance of the city and only Bocri forcing it to land sooner had put them down beyond the actual edge of the city proper. They had agreed that arriving on foot would attract less attention than slamming into the ground within shouting distance of any buildings. Bocri brushed a hand at his eyelids as they threatened to freeze together. His mechanical hand, even inside the suit, was moving sluggishly under the onslaught of the cold. He would need to get into the warmth soon to make sure it hadn't been damaged during the fight on the cruiser. He would have cursed his bacta allergy if he hadn't done it a million times before. Hirani had taken the lead for the last half a kilometre and her pace quickened as the first out buildings of the settlement now came into view around an icy outcropping. Bocri plowed after her, sinking almost up to his hips in snow that barely seemed to reach her ankles. He was physically and mentally exhausted. If they were attacked again right now he would be utterly useless to Hirani. She stopped as the building took shape from a dull grey thing in the driving snow to a more substantial looking structure. It had small recessed windows that glowed light and, judging from the size, could fit several families, if it was a house. There was only one way to find out. "Lead on, oh fearless one." He spoke at a normal level but brought his mouth close to the side of her head. The wind might be strong but it was blowing from behind them and would easily carry his yell into the settlement.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- Bocri's breath brushing against the side of her frozen face was a much-welcomed warmth from the blistering cold that was Kijimi's climate and the twi'lek subconsciously leaned towards the heat he provided. While Hirani was desperate to be out of the cold, the betrayal they had experienced was fresh on her mind and she was weary of the building that stood before her. It was one of many that were the first buildings to outline the city in an attempt to protect the inward inhabitants from the raging snow storms. With her gaze focused on the door, the Jedi slowed her breathing, every exhale producing a fog from her full lips as she slipped into a meditative state. She let go of her physical discomforts and instead focused on the consciousnesses that inhabited the building in front of them. Hirani gently brushed against the thoughts of the individuals that inhabited the building with a touch so subtle that only those gifted with enough awareness could detect her infringement upon their surface thoughts. They were mostly poor families that had immigrated to the planet, a mixture of choice and unfortunate circumstances, that lived every day counting their credits to have enough to survive. None of the people inside appeared to have thoughts in regards to the two survivors or their circumstances. It would seem word of their predicament hasn't spread further than the clones that now drifted lifelessly in the infinite vacuum of space. Hirani came back to herself as she raised a white-gloved fist to knock heavily on the front door. The twi'lek hoped that the landlord would open the door themselves and be able to offer affordable vacancy where they can get out of the cold into a space safe enough for them to brainstorm their next steps. Her knock should have been loud enough to be heard above the howling winds and at any moment the door should open. Turning face toward Bocri, she filled him in on what she had discovered. "This seems to be a residential building, I can feel many families inside…" As the last words left her mouth, the front door opened to reveal a human man whose dark brown eyes were focused intently on the two Jedi on the doorstep. A fur-lined hat covered whatever hair he may have had on his head with long flaps that covered his ears from the elements and he wore a heavy unzipped jacket that covered most of his plain unassuming clothes. "What can I do for you travelers?" his question was weary, filled with suspicion and mistrust for the people in front of him. The galaxy was a cruel enough place for him to be so cautious. "We are sorry to disturb you, are you the landlord of this building?" Hirani was sincere when she spoke and was making herself appear like a stranded person rather than someone on the run. "Why do you ask?" the man asked gruffly, crossing his arms and leaning into the doorframe. "My partner and I had chartered a cargo ship for transport back to Alderaan and some of the ship's parts ended up breaking down along the way so we are stranded on the planet while it is being repaired or we manage to find another ship off-world. It would be at least be a month before we can move on and we were told we could possibly rent an empty room amongst the city's outskirts that would be significantly cheaper than renting rooms closer to port..." As the Jedi spun their tale, she used the best of her natural persuasive abilities without taping into the force to soften the man to their plight. She didn't like to push her influence on others unless it was absolutely necessary so Hirani got very good at getting what she needed without the use of mystic abilities. The man scratched at his brown hair underneath his hat as he listened to their story and while he tried not to show it, his features softened a bit as he absorbed everything the twi'lek had to say. A man who ran a building for families to rent couldn't be so cold-hearted as he tried to appear. "Well, come inside from the cold. It sounds like you've already had your fair share of problems and by the looks of it, you're freezing in those shitty emergency suits they let you borrow to come out here. Cheap merchant bastards. I can rent you a room and can put you two on a monthly renewable lease while you wait for your way off-planet. I don't entirely trust you, so your rent will be due the first day of every month and if you leave before the month is up, you're not getting refunded any credits." As he spoke to them, he moved from the doorway to let the two Jedi into the building and into the warmth it provided. While the interior was plain and made of the most affordable material that could be found, it was well maintained and the halls appeared to be cleaned regularly. The man in front of them seemed to take a lot of pride in his building and likely wouldn't take well to anyone who tried to disturb his business. As they walked and climbed the four flights of stairs to reach the top floor, he explained the general rules of the building that would be easy enough for the pair to follow as they definitely wouldn't be looking to draw attention to themselves with loud noises, destruction of their apartment, or suspicious comings and goings from the building. "This room was recently vacated, so I can let you two use it for your short-term stint before finding a permanent resident to take it since you don't plan on sticking around. My name is Kodo and you can find me in apartment one on the first floor." As he spoke, the man slid a keycard into the door of the last room on the top floor. The metal plaque screwed into the door read '28' in bold black numbers. The door lead into the living space that shared an open floor plan with the kitchen and dining space. Towards the back right of the room were two doors that must have led to the bathroom and single bedroom. "I'll leave you two to take a look around, but you'll probably want to get yourselves a few furnishings to make yourselves comfortable. When you're ready to do so I can give you the name of the guy I give abandoned furniture to and maybe he'll cut you a deal. He's pretty good for a Rodian..." The man trailed off at the end of his sentence, looking like he wanted to ask more questions now that he saw the pair in better lighting but Hirani could see he was familiar with keeping such questions to himself when it came to newcomers. Instead, he reached out to give her the keycard since she had spoken for the pair. "Here's your key card. It will let you through your room and the front door only." The twi'lek gently took the extended card with a purple hand and thanked the man for allowing them the use of the room. He gave both Jedi the full weight of his gaze before giving them a short nod and leaving them to their own devices in the empty room. Kodo must have been content with whatever he saw in them.</s>	<\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri had not bothered to speak at all during the climb up the narrow stairs that smelled faintly of some kind of urine. He was utterly exhausted; his biological body was suffering as his mechanical body had begun to slow and freeze from the intense cold outside. The survival suits were meant to keep you alive while you sheltered in place, not hike across frozen tundra. Whoever had been contracted to supply the suits to the Republic Navy had cut every possible corner and, if things hadn't taken such a life threatening turn, he certainly would have lodged a complaint when they got back to Coruscant. The glance Kodo gave them was likely well deserved. A black human cyborg and a purple skinned Twi'lek were certainly a rare sight on a planet like this and very likely to draw some attention if they stayed to long. It was possible that Kodo had never even had tow tenants who looked like they did and he was certainly going to mention it, if not to any family, than to any drinking buddies he might have. Betrayal for the moment was unlikely, but things could change in a moment when hunters arrived and money flashed about. He had done it often enough himself when hunting enemies of the Republic. The unit was at least clean, the sharp smell of disinfectant still vaguely noticeable. They would certainly need some furniture, that was of no doubt; the lone bed would fit both of them if they got cozy but someone would have to stand guard. It would be foolish to escape the ship only to get captured or killed while napping. He longed to collapse facedown on the bare mattress but showing any sort of weakness in front of their new landlord would be foolish. Kodo left with a final once over and the door closed behind him, leaving the two Jedi to stare at each other in the painfully bright white room. Hirani looked as tired as he did; he reached out a hand to help her pull the hood off her head tails. He wanted badly to peel off his own suit but until they replaced it with something more suitable there was no point. They had little in the way of food, only survival rations, their lightsabers, and he had a blaster he'd taken from the hanger. A couple hours sleep and meditation would see them restored enough to continue their escape. Already he was considering options on how to try and contact the Jedi Council and make them aware that the two had survived. The truth was, and he would have time to unpack the emotions later, he had no idea what had happened or why. The basics of "Our troops tried to kill us" was obvious enough. The the why. That was going to drive him crazy for days. The pain they'd both felt throughout the force was another question. How many had died? Where? How? All questions that would need to be answered in the days to come. "I reckon one of us should sleep." He said at length before looking down at his mechanical hand and flexing it slowly. "I need to make sure this thing isn't busted up to badly, so why don't you sleep first?" It was a suggestion, not an order. The two had been partners a long time and they had never quarreled. His mechanical eye, the red having been dimmed in the hallway outside now brightened slightly as he swept it over the unit. No hidden electronics or other items jumped out while he conducted the scan and he felt his shoulders sag slightly in relief. "I think our new landlord might even be honest. It seems safe enough for the time being but we'll need to move in a few hours if we want to get off world before more Clones arrive to lock things down." It would have been better to leave at once, but they didn't know the city, no transports would be leaving at this hour, and it would seem mighty suspicious for them to turn up in their survival suits, no matter how clever the ruse. Plus, exhaustion was going to hit hard and sleep would be important until they could find somewhere else to go.</s>
<\|description\|>Hirani Blen Age: 32 Home Planet: Corellia Details: Hirani is currently a Jedi Consular, gifted in the healing arts and a strong force combatant.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- The twi'lek knew she was heard but the lack of response from Bocri left her concerned. It wasn't a new thing for him to not answer her calls while engaged in battle, but this wasn't a typical scenario. They were being hunted by their own and she needed to tell him about this Order 66 and the clones sudden change in mindset. She could only hope that he was in a good position despite the chorus of explosions she was hearing. The troopers were momentarily stunned from having been flung down the hallway and she took this moment to completely immobilize them. She kept her saber in her right hand, but did not ignite it while she walked briskly towards the fallen clones. Even though they meant to shoot her down, Hirani couldn't bring herself to use her deadly weapon against them. Raising her left arm, she reached out a with a slender purple hand towards the troops and pushed their bodies down into the floor, keeping them from reaching anything that would otherwise spell bad news for her. They struggled against her, she could feel it, but it wasn't particularly difficult for her to keep the five cloned men from rising. She thought about removing their helmets and hitting their temples squarely with the hilt of her saber to knock them out but she ultimately decided she wanted to be more gentle than that. She was going to put them to sleep. Through the force she threw a blanket of calm over the men, willing their bodies to relax and tricking their brain into thinking it was time to sleep. One by one she waved her hand over their covered faces and felt their consciousness slip away into deep sleep. They would be like this long enough for her to return to her rooms, quickly retrieve some extremely important belongings, and make a swift getaway. Once in her rooms, she grabbed her brown leather bag that she used to carry all of her medical supplies. In additional to various tools, bandages, medicines, and ointments, this also included numerous crystals and talismans that would amplify her healing abilities through the force. They were not as potent as the ones she used back in the Halls of Healing at the Jedi Temple, but they were potent enough for her to feel compelled to run back for and if they were going to be on the run, they would be invaluable. In the midst of Hirani's packing, her hands slowed at the sudden rush of fear and panic from hundreds of clones. She called out again. "Bocri?" This time, he answered. "Hirani. The clones turned on me. I have vented the hangar bay, the landing party is all gone. Are you ok?" The relief she felt over his response was mixed with sorrow. Being thrust into the vacuum of space would be a painful death as their bodies fought to breathe while the cold emptiness of space sucked away their warmth. "I am fine. I was forced to put some troopers to sleep as they tried to gun me down and I am in my room collecting some things should we need to break away from the ship. CC-9547 said 'Order 66 has been initiated' and we are to be executed for treason against the Republic?"</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- "I am fine. I was forced to put some troopers to sleep as they tried to gun me down and I am in my room collecting some things should we need to break away from the ship. CC-9547 said 'Order 66 has been initiated' and we are to be executed for treason against the Republic?" What the crik was Order 66?... Bocri was having a hard time processing; between having just vented nearly three hundred people into space that he had known on a first name basis, the pain in his shoulder, and the slowly dawning knowledge that all the pain he had felt through the force was likely his Jedi comrades being slaughtered. "I want to say they can't be serious but after what just happened down here..." His words dropped away as he hissed in pain. He drew a kolto bandage from his belt, one of the two he had, and worked it into place over his shoulder. The soothing sensation began at once and he swung his arm a couple times to ensure he could move freely. They were hardly out of trouble yet. "The rest of the clones will be looking for us." He said as he projected his thoughts to Hirani once again. "We won't be able to get off this ship as long as they control the bridge. They'll blow us out of space." He glanced up the steel plating above his head. The bridge was a long run from where he was, but not so far from Hirani. Between him and that bridge, somewhere on this ship, were another three hundred clones, give or take however many Hirani had dealt with. Perhaps if he got into the main ducts? Not an original idea, but one that will skip the majority of the clones, I hope. He was musing to himself as he looked upward at the roof of the control cabin. One of the first things he had done when he came aboard was familiarize himself with every aspect of the ship in the off chance they had to repel boarders. Well, now he was the boarding party. "Can you make it to the bridge?" He asked Hiarni. "I am going into the ducts and will make my way there. Will you be able to meet me?" It was a chance, but it was the only one they had at the moment. He ignited his lightsaber, cut a hole in the ceiling, and leapt effortlessly into the vent above him; he began to run.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- "I want to say they can't be serious but after what just happened down here…" Hirani shared his sentiment, but something was just horribly wrong. A power play had been made from pieces they didn't even know were on the board. Through their bond, she felt the trickles of the pain he was feeling but she was confident it wasn't something that he couldn't handle on his own until she could see to him. As a healer, she couldn't help feeling compelled to see to his injuries at that moment. At this feeling, she finished packing her bag quickly, clasped it securely and flung it over her shoulder. They had to get to safety first. The familiar call of Bocri reached out to her again. "The rest of the clones will be looking for us. We won't be able to get off this ship as long as they control the bridge. They'll blow us out of space." Hirani sent her consciousness towards the bridge. It was only two floors above her with limited personnel inside but heavily protected by blast doors that would magnetically seal if engaged. She was no splicer, so hacking her way in wasn't an option if they were locked. She could melt the door slowly with her saber, but that would leave her vulnerable. Her last option would be to infiltrate the minds of one of the clones inside to make him open the doors for her, it was the fastest outcome for her. "Can you make it to the bridge? I am going into the ducts and will make my way there. Will you be able to meet me? "Yes, let's hope the doors aren't locked when we get there. Otherwise, it's not heavily manned if you have to take it by yourself. Just enough clones needed to monitor the ship and maintain our position in orbit." she replied. Hirani tightened the strap of her bag so that it wouldn't swing wildly across her body as she moved and called to her right hand her saber that she had placed on the bed when she first re-entered the room. She stepped out into the hallway once more and borrowed the keycard from CC-9547's unconscious body so that she could hopefully access the bridge without alerting the pilots inside. As she took her first step away from the sleeping clones, she willed her body to move faster and force sprinted the rest of the way to the elevator. At its doors, she swiped the borrowed key card against the reader to instruct the machine to open. The clones must've taken it to her floor. Ding. The doors slowly opened to reveal the empty booth and Hirani extended a purple hand to the panel to direct the elevator to the top floor that housed the bridge.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri could have hugged whoever designed the Republics military fleet. The vents were large, not big enough for him to stand upright, but certainly large enough for him to move through at a quick jog while doubled over. "Just enough clones needed to monitor the ship and maintain our position in orbit." Hirani was right, that meant there was still a considerable number of armed and dangerous troopers anywhere on the ship at this moment, and they were certainly looking for the two jedi. "Be careful, see you soon. He replied quickly even as he launched himself upward into the vents of the next level. He knew that Master Kenobi has tried a similar trick on a Federation battle cruiser and the crew had been unable to track them, he hoped the Republic had not thought to correct that oversight. His travel through the vents turned out to be a somewhat educational experience. There were multiple various types and it was quickly obvious he had chosen the heat exchange vents as blasts of hot air came ripping by on a regular basis. Sometimes it smelled of food, the galley venting, or sweaty feet, likely a sleeping quarters, once the smell of engine solvents, which could only be the small shuttle bay since the main bay was still venting into open space. From time to time he could feel the presence of clones as they searched the ship. Interestingly enough, he could sense a measure of fear and panic among most of them. It seemed that they were well aware that the loss of surprise was not working in their favour. Once he paused to listen as a squad passed below him. "They're both gone." "That isn't good. I heard the medics can't wake CC-9547 and his squad from whatever Master Hirani did to them." "I thought I had some idea of how strong they were, but I guess not. Five in a dead sleep we can't fix and hundreds vented to space by Master Bocri." Their voices faded as they passed on. Behind them they left feelings of terror and anxiety. Part of Bocri was angry at the situation, but he was fairly certain that the clones were not responsible for what was happening. Not that it mattered, the only friend he had left on this ship was Hirani. "Where are you?" He launched the question to Hirani. He could sense her closer now as he clambered up vents and gained deck levels. If he could join with her, they would be able to take the bridge quickly and quietly.</s>	<\|message\|>Hirani Blen "I am down the hallway from the blast doors to the bridge. Right outside the elevator doors." Hirani peaked down the crisp white hallway from her position around the corner towards the bridge as she communicated with Bocri. The entire floor was actually unoccupied apart from herself and the handful of clones that ran the bridge. She slid down the wall while turning her had back from the hallway to sit on the floor to meditate. The bag she carried was now positioned in her lap and was being used as a resting place for her clasped hands. Closing her eyes, the Jedi began to meditate. Through her trance, she began to take note of the positions of the clones, the remaining hundreds were scurrying about the ship like ants when you kicked their hill. The altered clones were filled with overwhelming anxiety and Hirani was starting to think that is was perhaps for the best. She didn't want to fight her former allies and had hope that they would be weary to confront the two Jedi. But she knew it was a foolish wish. These men were created to be an efficient army and they proved that they will follow any order given, no matter how cruel. Redirecting her consciousness to the bridge, Hirani began to familiarize herself with the thoughts of the clones inside. If she needed to, she could control the actions of one, befuddle the thoughts of them all for Bocri to execute an easy takeover, or she could also put these clones to sleep like she did to CC-9547's group which would be the most gentle route. She reached out to her human partner, "Bocri, I'm in a position where I can put the clones to sleep if you'd like? It would only take me a bit of time… "</s>
<\|description\|>Hirani Blen Age: 32 Home Planet: Corellia Details: Hirani is currently a Jedi Consular, gifted in the healing arts and a strong force combatant.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- With her task complete, the Jedi opened her eyes slowly to focus on Bocri. Without a second thought she stood to place a purple hand over the bandage on his shoulder and began to pour her own life energy into his open wound. The kolto infused bandage did a good job expediting the body's natural healing process, but she took it to a higher level. If one were to watch, they could see the wound close before their very eyes as muscle and skin cells reformed to become as whole as they once were before shot by a blaster. Hirani felt the pull on herself, as she always did when she healed, and left it so a faint scar was left upon his shoulder. It was nothing permanent and would rectify itself over time naturally. Once finished, she tapped his cheek gently with the same hand that she used to heal his shoulder. "Come, they're fast asleep." Hirani rearranged her bag to lay against her back and confidently turned the corner to walk onto the bridge of the Corellian Dawn. The twi'lek took a moment to appreciate the scene before her, a serene picture of deeply unconscious clones slumped in their chairs and sprawled over the consoles that controlled the every aspect of the cruiser. Despite the horrific circumstances that they found themselves in, Hirani was glad to have avoided killing any troopers herself so far but she knew it was like to change fairly quickly if they didn't find a way off this ship. "Bocri, will you help me to drag them outside before we seal ourselves in here?" As she voice her question, Hirani moved towards the closest clone and began dragging him from his chair to place him against the wall across the hallway.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri moved to help Hirani without comment. He was feeling far less charitable toward their would be assassins than his partner but murder wasn't something he could square with at the moment, well, not killing the sleeping men with a blaster bolt to the head at any rate. It took them several minutes to clear the bridge and he could hear the units from the lower decks continue to check in. They were becoming increasingly agitated with the lack of response from the bridge however and it was only a matter of time before they rushed back to check on their comrades. The last clone was heaved out onto into the corridor and the two jedi retreated inside. They hadn't spoken at all. Bocri was wrestling with his anger at the presumed deaths of so many comrades and was trying hard to keep a lid on the rage that was threatening to spill out. "Mind the door." He said as Hirani followed him back onto the bridge. It slammed shut as he triggered it, and then the blast doors closed a moment later. He moved across to another console and pulled up a screen, glancing at his companion who was watching him carefully. "I am going to turn off the artificial gravity, stand by." He tapped several commands into the console and a moment later the artificial gravity in the ship, everywhere except the bridge, shut down. He could see clones begin to float in the corridors they were patrolling and soon every room he looked at was filled with floating debris. "And now..." It took him but a moment to do what came next and it would stay with him for the rest of his life, however short it may be. He opened every blast door he could and shut down every magnetic field on the ship, save for the bridge. The whole process was meant to assist in fire fighting but at the moment it served just as well to vent the entirety of the remaining clones, including those in the corridor, into space.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- The tidal wave of fear that she felt nearly sent Hirani over the edge and into the abyss. The twi'lek stumbled forward into the blast door, gasping for air like the hundreds of remaining clones that were ejected into the void of space. She nearly forgot that they had been safe on the bridge and fought to regain control of her mind, body, and soul. While she had felt the previous clones that Bocri flung out of the ship, these individuals were much closer and thus able to affect her so. The only comforting thought was that at least the ones she put asleep wouldn't register the pain their body was going through as it died. Hirani inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled slowly out of her mouth. She could understand why it had to be done, but perhaps he could have warned her so that she could have shielded herself from their plight. Moving forward, she would have to place a barrier on her mind from passively feeling the emotions of others as Hirani could only assume things would get worse from here. What she could never shut out, however, was Bocri. Their bond prevented her from closing herself off from him and him from her. She could feel his anger and he would most certainly have felt her panic. Hirani opened her mouth to speak and croaked. Reaching into her bag, she grabbed her water canteen to help clear her throat. After two gulps, she tried again. "What is the plan now? It's not like we can use this ship or any of it's fighters to leave this sector." Her voice was husky, but functioning. She took another swig to help it along.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Despite his anger, Bocri was instantly aware of the pain that he has caused Hirani. He felt shame and regret at once, he should have warned her and at least spared her that sudden trauma he had just inflicted on her. On another day he might have drawn her into a hug but now was not the time, there would be a moment later when they had escaped in which they could sort out emotion. He offered her an apologetic smile and then tapped on the console in front of him. A number of Clone fighters were still out there, so far none of them seemed very interested in the ship as they were formed up some distance off the bow. There was really only one option left as far as Bocri could see it. He couldn't operate the turbolaser batteries, not in any efficient manner anyway. Jedi were skilled at many things, but operating technology over a distance was not one of them. The pilots were too far away for any sort of mind control, which only Hirani could manage anyway. "We crash the ship into the planet." He said quietly. "Set it on a collision course and then, as we get close to the surface, launch all the escape pods, with us in one of them. I'll call a mayday shortly and do my best to fake some sort of emergency to throw off the pilots out there, though I suspect that they will see the others floating in space when they come closer and likely think it's real." He paused and glanced at Hirani. "Does that suit you?"</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- "We have been together long enough for me to trust your judgement on such things." Hirani said simply as she joined him at the console, her voice having regained most of it's normal function. She could pilot her fighter and smaller vehicles well enough, but a vessel of the Corellian Dawn was beyond her skill. "So long as we don't crash and burn along with the ship, I'll be happy." The healer worked to make herself as neutral as possible and that task had significantly increased in difficulty since she became bonded with Bocri. Jedi are taught not to be ruled by their emotions and to improve themselves with knowledge and training, amongst an overall theme of being a guardian of peace. How one went about fulfilling that role was based on an individual's skill and affinity with the force. The twi'lek peaked at the monitor as it showed some functions she was familiar with and a lot more that she was not. "Is there… anything you need me to do?" she asked meekly, weary of the answer she would receive. She often found herself willing to put herself outside of her comfort zone for Bocri and the only other individual she had bonded with to this degree was her former master, a door which she shut tight deep within herself to keep the pain of their loss from resurfacing. Later, when they have found a safe place to rest is when she'll allow herself to mourn and process the emotions that she could not help to feel but suppressed in the face of the threat in front of them. Hirani had a creeping feeling that the trial set before them would test them to their very core. Would they still be able to uphold the Jedi Code or will they loose themselves to the dark side and the suffering that accompanied it?</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri touched Hirani's shoulder so that she looked at him and offered a weak smile. It wasn't much, but it was something given the situation. "Just trust me, as you always do, and hang on." He turned back to the monitors and for a brief second his reflection stared back at him. His skin, as black as ebony, made his shape look like a shadow, a shadow with a single red eye. His prosthetics would be hard to hide, but that was a problem for future Bocri. "Start jettisoning the escape pods, only one every minute or so, make sure one remains." He instructed Hirani as his finger danced over the console. The recon fighters that had been sent out would be returning soon and it was important that they have no reason to think either Jedi was still alive. The ship responded quickly to his touch as Hirani launched the first escape pod. He hammered the ships "may-day" beacon that would be begin broadcasting all over the sector. There were no other major Republic starships nearby, that much he was sure. The returning fighters would quickly run into the debris field of everything he had vented, including their comrades. That would be an unpleasant surprise but he was making this whole thing up rather spur of the moment. Red light began to throb throughout the ship at once and the scream of damage control sirens sounded beyond the bridge doors. Operating the ship was remarkably easy, all he had to do was set its course for the planet surface, override the emergency alarm, and then step back. With the magnetic shields locked open, no living soul save for a Jedi would be able to make their way onto the ship. Hirani was still launching escape pods as the ship began its turn, the dagger shaped hull rolling over until it was pointed directly down at the planet. He couldn't operate the self-destruct as they needed three codes, one from him, one from Hirani, and the third from the Captain, who had been vented into space. An oversight on his part. There were other ways to wreck a ship however. "Get into the escape pod." He directed Hirani as he walked unhurriedly over to vacuum tube that served to carry physical objects all over the ship as quickly as possible. He pulled four thermal detonators from the small bridge weapons locker. They weren't much, but they would be enough to start a chain reaction of bigger problems with the ship spinning out of control. He set them each for one minute and then launched them to various different parts of the ship; engineering, operations, the magazine, and the galley. His steps were considerably quicker this time as he hurried to the escape pod and climbed inside with Hirani. She pushed the launch button and a "whoosh" followed by a light thud told them they were on the way. They fell away quickly into space, arcing toward the planets surface. The time ticked by his head until the detonators exploded. The vacuum of space would serve to extinguish any real fires but it did nothing to prevent the chain reaction of other shipboard explosions that quickly rippled throughout the craft. Bocri wrapped his arm around Hiranis waist and held her close, his head resting on her shoulder, as they looked back out through the viewport. He could feel exhaustion coming and his shoulder still burned something awful. The closeness, and her own inate skills, serve to sooth some of his pain. Above them, two small pinpricks of light shot toward the wounded destroyer, the scouts had returned. He could hear their cries of confusion and concern over the comlink that he now pulled from his ear and crushed in his prosthetic hand.</s>	<\|message\|>Hirani Blen The twi'lek followed Bocri's lead, removing her own comlink from her right ear cone and making the device float in the air momentarily before it seemed to collapse in on itself as Hirani used the force to destroy it. With that taken care of and the crumbled ball of metal discarded to the floor, she turned her attention towards the man that held her. Now that they were under less stress, his body was no longer producing the chemicals that allowed him to ignore the pain in his shoulder and maintain the high energy level needed for him to survive the betrayal they just experienced. She didn't know what awaited them once they reached the surface, so Hirani did what she could and tapped into herself to pour her life force into him so that he would at least no longer feel exhausted. The wound on his shoulder would take longer to rectify and they didn't have that luxury at the moment. It had been only a few minutes since they jettisoned from the ship but the pod was fast approaching the planet and they needed to be strapped in before they made entry to the planet. Hirani turned her face to his, her purple cheek stopping just short of his nose. "Bocri, we need to strap into the seats before the pod starts entering the atmosphere." The Jedi slid his arm from its embrace around her waist and mirrored her movements towards the seats lined along the walls of the escape pod. The bonded pair managed to strap themselves in just as the pod began to hit the outer layers Kijimi's atmosphere and the ride suddenly became a whole lot different. The transition from open space into the layers of gas that enveloped the planet was a violent one and the pod shook uncontrollably as it traveled through the atmosphere. The internal temperature rose several degrees as the outer protective layer lit ablaze with their entry. Hirani gripped Bocri's natural hand in her purple one for comfort… she was nervous. While the pod itself was well designed to withstand the pressures of landing, it wasn't designed to do it in any way that would be considered comfortable and in the mere minutes it took to reach the snowy surface of Kijimi, it only slowed down just enough for them to not disintegrate on it's rocky impact with the planet. The straps of their safety belts kept them from flying into the front of the pod but will definitely leave bruises on their bodies to later remind them of their ordeal. Hirani moaned softly in pain, her hand still tightly gripped to Bocri's as the flickering lights of the cabin fought to stay on.</s>
<\|description\|>Hirani Blen Age: 32 Home Planet: Corellia Details: Hirani is currently a Jedi Consular, gifted in the healing arts and a strong force combatant.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- Bocri touched Hirani's shoulder so that she looked at him and offered a weak smile. It wasn't much, but it was something given the situation. "Just trust me, as you always do, and hang on." He turned back to the monitors and for a brief second his reflection stared back at him. His skin, as black as ebony, made his shape look like a shadow, a shadow with a single red eye. His prosthetics would be hard to hide, but that was a problem for future Bocri. "Start jettisoning the escape pods, only one every minute or so, make sure one remains." He instructed Hirani as his finger danced over the console. The recon fighters that had been sent out would be returning soon and it was important that they have no reason to think either Jedi was still alive. The ship responded quickly to his touch as Hirani launched the first escape pod. He hammered the ships "may-day" beacon that would be begin broadcasting all over the sector. There were no other major Republic starships nearby, that much he was sure. The returning fighters would quickly run into the debris field of everything he had vented, including their comrades. That would be an unpleasant surprise but he was making this whole thing up rather spur of the moment. Red light began to throb throughout the ship at once and the scream of damage control sirens sounded beyond the bridge doors. Operating the ship was remarkably easy, all he had to do was set its course for the planet surface, override the emergency alarm, and then step back. With the magnetic shields locked open, no living soul save for a Jedi would be able to make their way onto the ship. Hirani was still launching escape pods as the ship began its turn, the dagger shaped hull rolling over until it was pointed directly down at the planet. He couldn't operate the self-destruct as they needed three codes, one from him, one from Hirani, and the third from the Captain, who had been vented into space. An oversight on his part. There were other ways to wreck a ship however. "Get into the escape pod." He directed Hirani as he walked unhurriedly over to vacuum tube that served to carry physical objects all over the ship as quickly as possible. He pulled four thermal detonators from the small bridge weapons locker. They weren't much, but they would be enough to start a chain reaction of bigger problems with the ship spinning out of control. He set them each for one minute and then launched them to various different parts of the ship; engineering, operations, the magazine, and the galley. His steps were considerably quicker this time as he hurried to the escape pod and climbed inside with Hirani. She pushed the launch button and a "whoosh" followed by a light thud told them they were on the way. They fell away quickly into space, arcing toward the planets surface. The time ticked by his head until the detonators exploded. The vacuum of space would serve to extinguish any real fires but it did nothing to prevent the chain reaction of other shipboard explosions that quickly rippled throughout the craft. Bocri wrapped his arm around Hiranis waist and held her close, his head resting on her shoulder, as they looked back out through the viewport. He could feel exhaustion coming and his shoulder still burned something awful. The closeness, and her own inate skills, serve to sooth some of his pain. Above them, two small pinpricks of light shot toward the wounded destroyer, the scouts had returned. He could hear their cries of confusion and concern over the comlink that he now pulled from his ear and crushed in his prosthetic hand.</s> <\|message\|>Hirani Blen Hirani Blen --- The twi'lek followed Bocri's lead, removing her own comlink from her right ear cone and making the device float in the air momentarily before it seemed to collapse in on itself as Hirani used the force to destroy it. With that taken care of and the crumbled ball of metal discarded to the floor, she turned her attention towards the man that held her. Now that they were under less stress, his body was no longer producing the chemicals that allowed him to ignore the pain in his shoulder and maintain the high energy level needed for him to survive the betrayal they just experienced. She didn't know what awaited them once they reached the surface, so Hirani did what she could and tapped into herself to pour her life force into him so that he would at least no longer feel exhausted. The wound on his shoulder would take longer to rectify and they didn't have that luxury at the moment. It had been only a few minutes since they jettisoned from the ship but the pod was fast approaching the planet and they needed to be strapped in before they made entry to the planet. Hirani turned her face to his, her purple cheek stopping just short of his nose. "Bocri, we need to strap into the seats before the pod starts entering the atmosphere." The Jedi slid his arm from its embrace around her waist and mirrored her movements towards the seats lined along the walls of the escape pod. The bonded pair managed to strap themselves in just as the pod began to hit the outer layers Kijimi's atmosphere and the ride suddenly became a whole lot different. The transition from open space into the layers of gas that enveloped the planet was a violent one and the pod shook uncontrollably as it traveled through the atmosphere. The internal temperature rose several degrees as the outer protective layer lit ablaze with their entry. Hirani gripped Bocri's natural hand in her purple one for comfort… she was nervous. While the pod itself was well designed to withstand the pressures of landing, it wasn't designed to do it in any way that would be considered comfortable and in the mere minutes it took to reach the snowy surface of Kijimi, it only slowed down just enough for them to not disintegrate on it's rocky impact with the planet. The straps of their safety belts kept them from flying into the front of the pod but will definitely leave bruises on their bodies to later remind them of their ordeal. Hirani moaned softly in pain, her hand still tightly gripped to Bocri's as the flickering lights of the cabin fought to stay on.</s> <\|message\|>Bocri Sauburc Bocri Sauburc --- An hour later the two Jedi were already a kilometre from the crashed pod, their tracks in the snow erased almost immediately by the wind that howled across the frozen landscape. Beyond them, in the far distance, a massive debris cloud was climbing into the sky from where the cruiser had slammed into the planet. Nothing could be seen of the ship but it took little imagination to know what the wreck was going to look like. Local scavengers would feast for months, if not years, on a prize that size. They wore survival suits from inside the craft. One size fits all and one suit fits all climates was a hopeful claim printed on the interior label. He doubted the manufacturer had ever left Coruscant. He was luckier than Hirani, the suits were designed for humans and not a Twi'lek; the downside of all the Clone troopers being of one species. Her lekku were wrapped in the salvaged pieces of a third suit and then crammed into her hood as best they could manage. That meant more of her face was exposed to the cold than they might have liked but at least they were alive. Kijimi was a remote, frozen, and mountainous planet, but it boasted one major settlement, Kijimi City. The pods programming had brought them well within walking distance of the city and only Bocri forcing it to land sooner had put them down beyond the actual edge of the city proper. They had agreed that arriving on foot would attract less attention than slamming into the ground within shouting distance of any buildings. Bocri brushed a hand at his eyelids as they threatened to freeze together. His mechanical hand, even inside the suit, was moving sluggishly under the onslaught of the cold. He would need to get into the warmth soon to make sure it hadn't been damaged during the fight on the cruiser. He would have cursed his bacta allergy if he hadn't done it a million times before. Hirani had taken the lead for the last half a kilometre and her pace quickened as the first out buildings of the settlement now came into view around an icy outcropping. Bocri plowed after her, sinking almost up to his hips in snow that barely seemed to reach her ankles. He was physically and mentally exhausted. If they were attacked again right now he would be utterly useless to Hirani. She stopped as the building took shape from a dull grey thing in the driving snow to a more substantial looking structure. It had small recessed windows that glowed light and, judging from the size, could fit several families, if it was a house. There was only one way to find out. "Lead on, oh fearless one." He spoke at a normal level but brought his mouth close to the side of her head. The wind might be strong but it was blowing from behind them and would easily carry his yell into the settlement.</s>	<\|message\|>Hirani Blen Bocri's breath brushing against the side of her frozen face was a much-welcomed warmth from the blistering cold that was Kijimi's climate and the twi'lek subconsciously leaned towards the heat he provided. While Hirani was desperate to be out of the cold, the betrayal they had experienced was fresh on her mind and she was weary of the building that stood before her. It was one of many that were the first buildings to outline the city in an attempt to protect the inward inhabitants from the raging snow storms. With her gaze focused on the door, the Jedi slowed her breathing, every exhale producing a fog from her full lips as she slipped into a meditative state. She let go of her physical discomforts and instead focused on the consciousnesses that inhabited the building in front of them. Hirani gently brushed against the thoughts of the individuals that inhabited the building with a touch so subtle that only those gifted with enough awareness could detect her infringement upon their surface thoughts. They were mostly poor families that had immigrated to the planet, a mixture of choice and unfortunate circumstances, that lived every day counting their credits to have enough to survive. None of the people inside appeared to have thoughts in regards to the two survivors or their circumstances. It would seem word of their predicament hasn't spread further than the clones that now drifted lifelessly in the infinite vacuum of space. Hirani came back to herself as she raised a white-gloved fist to knock heavily on the front door. The twi'lek hoped that the landlord would open the door themselves and be able to offer affordable vacancy where they can get out of the cold into a space safe enough for them to brainstorm their next steps. Her knock should have been loud enough to be heard above the howling winds and at any moment the door should open. Turning face toward Bocri, she filled him in on what she had discovered. "This seems to be a residential building, I can feel many families inside…" As the last words left her mouth, the front door opened to reveal a human man whose dark brown eyes were focused intently on the two Jedi on the doorstep. A fur-lined hat covered whatever hair he may have had on his head with long flaps that covered his ears from the elements and he wore a heavy unzipped jacket that covered most of his plain unassuming clothes. "What can I do for you travelers?" his question was weary, filled with suspicion and mistrust for the people in front of him. The galaxy was a cruel enough place for him to be so cautious. "We are sorry to disturb you, are you the landlord of this building?" Hirani was sincere when she spoke and was making herself appear like a stranded person rather than someone on the run. "Why do you ask?" the man asked gruffly, crossing his arms and leaning into the doorframe. "My partner and I had chartered a cargo ship for transport back to Alderaan and some of the ship's parts ended up breaking down along the way so we are stranded on the planet while it is being repaired or we manage to find another ship off-world. It would be at least be a month before we can move on and we were told we could possibly rent an empty room amongst the city's outskirts that would be significantly cheaper than renting rooms closer to port..." As the Jedi spun their tale, she used the best of her natural persuasive abilities without taping into the force to soften the man to their plight. She didn't like to push her influence on others unless it was absolutely necessary so Hirani got very good at getting what she needed without the use of mystic abilities. The man scratched at his brown hair underneath his hat as he listened to their story and while he tried not to show it, his features softened a bit as he absorbed everything the twi'lek had to say. A man who ran a building for families to rent couldn't be so cold-hearted as he tried to appear. "Well, come inside from the cold. It sounds like you've already had your fair share of problems and by the looks of it, you're freezing in those shitty emergency suits they let you borrow to come out here. Cheap merchant bastards. I can rent you a room and can put you two on a monthly renewable lease while you wait for your way off-planet. I don't entirely trust you, so your rent will be due the first day of every month and if you leave before the month is up, you're not getting refunded any credits." As he spoke to them, he moved from the doorway to let the two Jedi into the building and into the warmth it provided. While the interior was plain and made of the most affordable material that could be found, it was well maintained and the halls appeared to be cleaned regularly. The man in front of them seemed to take a lot of pride in his building and likely wouldn't take well to anyone who tried to disturb his business. As they walked and climbed the four flights of stairs to reach the top floor, he explained the general rules of the building that would be easy enough for the pair to follow as they definitely wouldn't be looking to draw attention to themselves with loud noises, destruction of their apartment, or suspicious comings and goings from the building. "This room was recently vacated, so I can let you two use it for your short-term stint before finding a permanent resident to take it since you don't plan on sticking around. My name is Kodo and you can find me in apartment one on the first floor." As he spoke, the man slid a keycard into the door of the last room on the top floor. The metal plaque screwed into the door read '28' in bold black numbers. The door lead into the living space that shared an open floor plan with the kitchen and dining space. Towards the back right of the room were two doors that must have led to the bathroom and single bedroom. "I'll leave you two to take a look around, but you'll probably want to get yourselves a few furnishings to make yourselves comfortable. When you're ready to do so I can give you the name of the guy I give abandoned furniture to and maybe he'll cut you a deal. He's pretty good for a Rodian..." The man trailed off at the end of his sentence, looking like he wanted to ask more questions now that he saw the pair in better lighting but Hirani could see he was familiar with keeping such questions to himself when it came to newcomers. Instead, he reached out to give her the keycard since she had spoken for the pair. "Here's your key card. It will let you through your room and the front door only." The twi'lek gently took the extended card with a purple hand and thanked the man for allowing them the use of the room. He gave both Jedi the full weight of his gaze before giving them a short nod and leaving them to their own devices in the empty room. Kodo must have been content with whatever he saw in them.</s>
<\|description\|>Alyona Yenina Age: 18 Grade: Remedial High Schooling (Mephisto's) files.catbox.moe/gi2spk.png I'm dumb so the image is probably too big to embed well so here's the link. She dyes her hair often, but never tries out the color red. Biography: Alyona was born with a twin sister. In some cruel ploy of the gods, one twin was given the powers of a holy relic, while the other became a bearer of unholy curses. While one grew normally and healthily, the other was thin and barely grew at all. Despite her royal birth and family, she was excluded from participating as soon as her powers were realized. Bringing misfortune everywhere she walked was enough for her family to isolate her, and she soon felt resentment towards them without exception. Despite the family's wealth, she knew that she would be the last person in line to inherit anything. So she eschewed her family, dying her hair different from her twin sister, taking with her anything she could steal and running away to try and find a different way of life. After all, if all she can do is bring misfortune, maybe she could find a way to use it to her advantage. Alyona has embraced her life as a walking curse. She assumes by default that people will not like her - so she better get what she can out of them before they realize what she actually is. She fled her home country with some stolen family treasures and is determined to chase her own dream in Rhea with a fresh start. She has it all, a nice apartment, a good roommate, and... mandatory schooling due to her lack of transcripts and poor testing scores. Has a childlike fondness for sweets. Powers: Core Power: Unholy Vessel - Alyona was blessed by a goddess of curses and misfortune. Some would say that the essence of curses is weaved within her mortal form. Her presence brings poor luck to those around her. Perhaps because of this curse, her body is much different from her stockier twin. Secondary Power: Aegis of Misfortune - Alyona's existence is a form of curse. Negative effects such as curses have very little effect to her. However, positive effects have a diminished effect on her as well. She's so used to negative energy that positive kinds make her feel sick. Secondary Power: Cursed Touch - Alyona's curses can be extended to others with a touch. If someone is touched by Alyona for more than a few moments, the curses will prevent positive effects such as healing from affecting the victim for several minutes. Extended bouts of contact with her will prevent even natural healing and rest from aiding the victim. Secondary Power: Contaminant Bolt - Alyona's ranged attack are spears of pure negative energy. Containing the raw energy of curses, these weapons pass through physical barriers and leave no wounds, but sap the life force from their target. Hits to muscles will make them sore and stiff as though they have been worked without breaks. These spears can return the life force to Alyona, which heals her (one of the only positive effects that isn't reduced by Aegis of Misfortune). Relationships: Sasha Yenina - "...Don't say that name to me ever again." Name: Alexandria Sova Also goes by Andras files.catbox.moe/xv9ulb.png (She doesn't actually have a grimoire... yet!) Age: 16 Grade: 1st Year Laurels Biography: Alexandria Sova was always a bookish child, who often ended up driving people away through social awkwardness. It was a wonder, then, that she managed to become a part of a trio of tightly knit friends. Her Gift manifested strangely, allowing her to manifest thoughts, concepts, and images from her mind. This led to her forming a bond with another child who had a similar power. Protected by a brash third friend, they lived out their lives without a care in the world, conjuring forth images and scenes that were born from pure imagination. Until Alex went too far. Or rather, she was intrigued by some quirk in her gift she discovered while playing - and upon experimenting, was swallowed up by her own dream. She became bedridden, comatose, unresponsive. She only awoke over a year later, and even more time to become rehabilitated. But she had emerged changed from the long sleep, and her power was erratic, unpredictable, and so much more powerful. She claimed she had found the source of magic itself, something innate to the world, even more fundamental than the gods. Or so she says. Many keeping an eye on her noticed her power was manifesting things from her imagination, or from other things she had seen in the past, or even from games she enjoyed. They commented that she may have imagined or dreamed the entire thing up, and her power simply refined itself further to manifest her scatter-brained thoughts into, admittedly, real powers. The erratic and potentially dangerous nature of her power lead her to be privately schooled in managing her power alongside remedial classes to catch up with the classes she had missed. Alexandria's extended leave from consciousness, loss of sight in one eye, and newfound ability had perhaps intermingled for her to cultivate a new persona - that of a demon mage named Andras. While she tries to keep the facade up, it becomes clear to many that interact with her that she is simply keeping up some kind of delusion, or a stage persona to have for when she enters tournaments, or perhaps she just went a little crazy when she was in a coma. Powers: Core: The Root of All Magic Within Andras's eye there is a link to the source of all magic, beyond even the gods' domain (allegedly). She can use her inward eye to gaze at the Root, catching glimpses of spells at their primordial source (or so she says). These spells crystallize as softly glowing points of light, which Andras can manifest at will (actually has been observed, so probably true). She can cast these spells using the points of light, which she usually calls "cards" (most cards in real life don't glow and float in midair). The behaviors officer that put together her file after working with her wrote: "Alexandria's power seems to let her manifest illusions of cards, like from a game, and use them to create actual magical effects. They seem to be 'drawn' from a large and random pool that may be expanding as she considers new effects. While in card form they have no real power, so they seem to be just manifest that way because of Alexandria's preferences. However, she has the ability to 'activate' them to 'cast' the effect of the card, consuming the card in the process. These spells can be from minor tricks, to powerful attacks, to granting supernatural abilities. Nearly impossible to say what she might be able to do from day to day. She seems to be documenting spells herself, but unfortunately a copy of the notebook she was using is not able to be secured. She was very adamant about not sharing it." Sub Power: Mana Bond Once per day, Andras can draw a card from the Root. She can increase the number of draws she gets from this power by forging a mana bond with a trusted friend. This is done through physical contact (like a hug or whatever) and lasts as long as both are okay with it. The bond does not impart any kind of drain on the friend. Andras is very hesistant to form bonds with someone she doesn't trust as a friend. When prompted why, she never really gives a straight answer, usually haphazardly talking about "grave prophecy" or "reality anchoring" or something similar. ...Maybe she's too shy? Sub Power (?): Forbidden Knowledge Andras's connection to the Root is seemingly becoming stronger over time, causing her to obtain more and more spells as she practices. The list of spells she has grows as she witnesses usage of gifts, magic, and her own dreams. Relationships: Wolf and Vera: "I-It's kind of daunting to face them now... A lot has happened since we were last together. But we're still friends, right? R-Right?!"</s> <\|message\|>Vera Goh --- Vera was astonished by the sudden wall of ice. The Alex she knew couldn't do that. Was this really her? But, eyepatch aside, everything fit. She hadn't even gotten that much taller. And, more importantly, no one else would have reacted this way. No one else would have cared. She held the smaller girl close, clutching her tight to her chest and kissing the top of her head. Vera couldn't help but laugh even as her voice broke, "Y-you still smell that that bargain brand strawberry junk..." she hiccupped. It was really her. Nothing else mattered for the moment. The ice wall, the crowd, all her questions. None of it. But, then the moment passed. "AHEM!" The MC boosted the volume so his voice could pierce past the wall of ice. "I'm going to assume there's a touching reunion of some sort going on in there, but we ARE trying to hold a tournament here!" Right. The tournament. This stupid tournament was where she'd found Alex. These people, this crowd, had all seen Alex before she had. Vera suddenly pulled away from her, "What are you doing here, huh?" CRACK! Outside, others were battering down the wall of ice. "How long have you been awake? When were you gonna tell us? Why was this more important, huh!?" Vere's face was still stained with tears, but now she just looked angry. CRACK! BAM! CRACK! Vera just stood there, fists and jaw clenched tightly as the wall came crumbling down. "OK! About time! Now, if we could just get things going ag-" "You wanted a fight, right?!" Vera suddenly shouted, interrupting the MC. She walked to the other end of the arena from "Andras" and raised her fists. "Well why not?! That's why we're all here isn't it?" This time, she just glared into Alex's eyes. "You know what? Screw it. Disqualifications are lame and this shit's better than a soap opera! Have at it, girls!"</s> <\|message\|>Michael Angie Location: Midnight Tournament @KillamriX88@AtomicNut Michael was curious to see how Andras' next match would go. It would be interesting to see what others cards Andras would use, hoping to gain some inspiration for other applications of his Symbolism. Unfortunately, it seemed there would be unforeseen developments as a pink-haired girl came onto the stage and knocked out Andras' opponent with little effort. What's more, the girl seemed to know Andras, and was shocked to see her for some reason. This puzzled Michael. Back when Andras was still recovering from her coma, she had briefly mentioned something about past friends, but could never get any more details than that. Now it feels Andras' history was catching up to her. Michael raised a hand in opposition to Parker's protest. "I say let her stay," Michael argued. "Anyone with eyes can see that nothing about this was planned. And besides, anyone who could get knocked out that easily wasn't going to be much of an opponent anyway. We all saw how easily Andras took out her first opponent, why would she need to cheat now?" Michael then tried to peer through the ice dome, still curious about Andras' history. She was never willing to share, and it had caused her great distress anytime Michael tried to probe into it, so he kept a respectable distance from the topic. Now it seems there was an opportunity to get some answers. Michael was originally going to put in a little effort and make a hole in the dome. Others, however, were not so patient and broke down the ice first. Michael was also going to ask a few questions of his own, but Vera's fiery temper caused him to stay his tongue. He wisely decided that he would wait until tensions died down before he would ask anything, especially as it now seemed that Vera would be Andras' new opponent.</s>	<\|message\|>Alyona Yenina Alexandria Alexandria was stunned for a moment at the sudden change in Vera's tone. Tears welled up in her eyes again. "W-What? You're asking that now?!" The image of Vera's face flashing with anger triggered... something. She couldn't remember where it came from. It wasn't from when she was awake, Alexandria felt. The murmur of the crowd coming back to front and center snapped Alexandria out of her thoughts. She wiped her face. Her gut felt twisted with anxiety, but she grit her teeth and ignored it. 'You idiot, Vera...' She thought. The burning of shame she felt at Vera's last question flared into anger. 'You didn't even want an answer, did you? Did you just ask that to hurt me? Will fighting communicate for you better?!' She couldn't back down now. As silly as it may seem, Alexandria- Or rather, Andras had a reputation to build. She couldn't go down without fighting. She wanted to become a known fighter - a demon in the ring. Andras's cards flashed into existence around her, and she grasped a spell and quickly cast it - a flurry of cards stretched out before her, and her eye scanned them all in an instant. There were the tools to win, here. She could see it. The cards flickered away. "You..." Andras cleared her throat. "Your challenge is accepted." She had a trump card. But she needed to use her other options first. "I hope you're ready..." Andras quickly flicked a card towards Vera - it was a minor spell, essentially a warning shot. The card cast itself into a bolt of sparkling energy, streaking towards Vera. Andras knew the spell wouldn't hurt too badly if it hit - not much more than a solid punch - but it would send the message that she wasn't going to hold back to Vera. She deserved that much.</s>
<\|description\|>Michael Angie AKA Michelangelo Age: 16 Grade: St. Laurel's School of Divine Excellence, 2nd year Biography: Michael grew up in a poor family with a single mother, who barely made ends meet to put food on the table. It wasn't much, but it was enough for the two to be happy enough. At least, it was enough, until one day a bully began to make his life miserable. The bully in question had influential parents as well, making it difficult to punish him. As a result, Michael couldn't do much to lessen the abuse he was receiving. He tried asking for help from friends and teachers, but both chose to look the other way. Coincidentally, the bully's father was also Michael's mother's boss, who was also undergoing some troubles of her own at work. Michael was left alone, with nothing but his family and the occasional stray animal for support. He liked animals, even if he couldn't afford to keep a pet. As time passed and everyone discovered their powers, the bullying only became worse. The bully had obtained a typical steel-skin super strength ability while Michael had ink coming out of his fingers. At first, it was torture. However, Michael was not completely helpless. While all this was happening, Michael did what he could to figure out how his power worked and how best to apply it. He worked and experimented tirelessly, and it eventually paid off. With his newfound knowledge, Michael was able to stand on equal ground against the bully, and even overpower him. The bully's father attempted to get payback, but the company found evidence against the father's various harassment and embezzlement cases, and he was promptly fired. Michael's mother was also promoted to a higher position, and the two were able to live more comfortably. With the bully out of sight and out of mind, things were looking up. Powers: CORE: The World is Your Canvas Michael can generate ink from his own body as will, and manipulate it as he sees fit. The ink travels quickly, allowing him to draw complex pieces that normal artists would take days in a matter of seconds. This allows him to create works of art that projects his will onto the world, limited by his imagination. Should he infuse his creations with power, the energy needed will come from his own body, and will be drained proportionally to the amount of power he wishes to infuse. The more complex and detailed pieces of art will allow him to infuse more energy than those he spends less effort on. However, if he does not have the energy reserves needed, he will drain himself dry and pass out. SUB 1: Symbolism By drawing patterns and/or symbols, Michael can apply a series of buffs and/or debuffs, involving things such as increasing physical stats and regeneration, as well as robbing people of their senses or freedom of movement. Inanimate objects are not immune from this effect, either, and can be weakened or strengthened accordingly. Given the right symbols and/or intentions, he can even duplicate certain powers, such as generating explosions or stretching one's body like a rubber band. Many details are needed for these powers to function exactly as Michael wishes them to, such as an AoE healing ability affecting only those he considers allies. His Symbols will last for as long as Michael wants it to (or at least for as long as he's conscious), and can be dispelled by him at any time. SUB 2: Creation Michael draws a picture of an object, and is able to construct said object into reality. These constructs will last as long as Michael wants it to (or at least for as long as he's conscious), and can be deconstructed by him at any time. Creations typically need to be drawn to a 1:1 scale to reach a desired size. SUB 3: Animation With additional effort, Michael can bring his creations to life, granting them basic sentience and absolute loyalty to him. Inanimate objects will float around, machines will function as Michael realistically imagines them to, and creatures will even be able to speak. The Mithril Paintbrush A Relic made by Erisse Augusta Narrativia, the Mithril Paintbrush has the power to enhance, as well as replicate, the power known as The World is Your Canvas; the enhancement increases the potency of each use of the enchanted ink by a third of the base power's original strength. However, the Mithril Paintbrush can also change the ink to various 'colors', each with an Elemental Attribute. Red and Orange - Fire. Yellow and Green - Earth. Blue and Indigo - Water. Violet - Poison. Grey - Air. White - Healing Light. This Relic can be used by anyone, but at reduced potency; they get a duplicate of 'The World is Your Canvas' at only one-third of the power's original strength (Moving ink is more sluggish, buffs are almost irrelevant, and creation takes a heavy toll on your energy), but can still access Elemental Attributes. Relationships: N/A</s> <\|message\|>Marmaduke Cashmere Duke watched the fight engagedly, sitting with his head in his hands as skill met strength. He could see Michael's glorious skills as paint practically flowed out of his suspiciously shiny paintbrush. The dark horse of the night slowly lost his ground, lost his strength, and lost his control. The arena cracked and the ground rumbled. The tournament was over. Duke got up and sighed. It was truly a shame, he had been looking forward to seeing who would win the fight. "'Scuse me, 'scuse me. Coming through, calm down everyone." The lanky teenager weaved through the crowd against the flow, towards the disaster zone. The area around the arena was quickly being vacated, which would make things convenient for him. Duke drew his knife. It was an ornate switchblade patterned with skulls and flame imagery, polished to a mirror's shine. It was a rather ordinary blade, in spite of its appearance. But Duke needed sharpness, and it was certainly sharp enough. Holding out his left palm facing upwards, Duke slowly lowered the knife tip down into his hand. He felt the familiar prick of the blade piercing his skin and dug deeper. He felt a small stabbing pain as blood pooled in his palm. He could feel a small spike of adrenaline shoot through his nervous system. Time seemed to slow down as he assessed the situation. The other participants of tonight's tournament would hopefully help out, though he wondered how effective they would be. They hadn't fought too much tonight, but their stamina had inevitably been dented. Still, he was sure they would provide some reliable support. Michael the painter, the round's other contestant, was in a bad spot right now. More than likely, the breaking of the arena would have knocked him off balance, and the dark horse was currently aiming to turn him into paste. This wouldn't do, this wouldn't do at all. Duke couldn't let one of the stage's stars get knocked out so early. The teenager grinned, removing his blade from his palm. The blood in his hand ignited into pale green flames, dyeing the boy's grin with an eery glow. He wound his arm back like a baseball pitcher, yelling "Fire in the hole!" as he threw the palm sized wad of fire at the fleshy student. The flames traced an arc in the air and splashed the back of the hulking contestant's head, setting his hair alight. It acted as both flame and liquid, one portion sticking on the student's head while the rest dribbled onto his back. "Hey big guy, I know I said I was rooting for you, but you just ended our night of entertainment. I can't let you get away with that." Duke said, taunting the enraged figure. He walked forward slowly with his hands in his pockets, a deliberate display of fake calmness. The flames burned on, sucking away at the contestant's energy, though in this state he probably had plenty to spare. "Would anyone else care to join me? If you do, please keep an eye out for my flames. I'm not responsible for what happens if you touch them." Duke declared loudly. @Scarifar@KillamriX88@Letter Bee@Dezuel</s> <\|message\|>Erisse Augusta Narrativia. Erisse Augusta Narrativia Erisse was beside Duke in an instant, Narrative Round of Familiarity activated right away. In her hands, she held an Anti-Materiel Rifle, which the woman apparently knew how to shoot. "This kid must have gotten some illegal steroids or Demonic help, or both," the woman said, "I know how to deal with this." And she fired at the rogue student's arms and legs, each shot enough to pulverize a normal limb into powder. Some would think this callous, as she was an adult and the kid was, well, a kid. But callous or not, Erisse was sensing that something truly vile was afoot and that she had to cripple this rogue student/fighter before he harmed any other person. And if that kid can regenerate his wounds anyway, well, that meant that she had no responsibility to hold back. "You know," she spoke, unable to hear her own words because she put on earphones beforehand, "Maybe that Suzakura kid was right and I should be doing this in a swimsuit..." She then belatedly handed Duke a set of earmuffs, "Earmuffs?" @Scarifar@AtomicNut@KillamriX88@Spin The Wheel@Crowvette</s> <\|message\|>Marmaduke Cashmere Duke noticed someone appearing next to him, but as he turned to look, a noise like an explosion burst out without warning. The teenager jumped to the side instinctively, falling to the floor. He looked to the source of the boom and saw a woman holding a large rifle. Duke stared at the woman, dumbfounded, before hastily turning his gaze away as she let loose a barrage of bullets, each shot lighting up the room in flashes of white brilliance. When the barrage finished, Duke removed his hands from his ears. The impromptu defense had protected him little, and his ears rang loudly as if in protest of the woman's mad shooting. He could see her offer him some earmuffs; her mouth moved but he couldn't hear a single word she had said. "Are you fucking-" Joking? Stupid? Insane? His mind had cooked up 3 insults to hurl at the woman, but with the aftermath of the gunshots still causing havoc his ears, it was impossible for him to know which one had come out of his mouth. Duke hastily got to his feet and snatched the earmuffs from her hand, putting them on in a hurry and backing away to a safe distance. If she was going to shoot again (and he was sure she would), he wanted some degree of safety. Bee</s> <\|message\|>Alyona Yenina Alexandria Alex was slowly inching towards Vera's vicinity when things went out of control. The center fight suddenly stopped, there was a commotion, and before Alex knew it her body was rocked by an ear-splitting blast, followed by another, and more. Each shot felt like a punch in her chest from the pressure of the gunshot. Alex had never heard a gunshot in person, let alone a high-caliber one fired indoors. It instantly sent her into a panic. Alex yelped in surprise, instinctively ducking down and covering her ears. She didn't know what was happening, but her mind focused on one thing: Getting Vera, and then leaving. Gritting her teeth, she ignored the ringing in her ears and got back to her feet, quickly scoping out where Vera was. There was a commotion, people moving, tables in the way. But luckily, Alex still had her lingering magical effects to lean on. She had an enhanced jump height, and the ability to fly. It was a simple matter for her to bound over the obstacles in her way, and beeline to Vera in midair. Alex was not quite versed in flight, however, and in her adrenaline-fueled burst of movement she did not quite allow herself the space to slow down, sending her careening towards Vera. She only had a moment to shout a warning to the unsuspecting girl before they collided. "Veraaaaaa!! Get down!"</s>	<\|message\|>Michael Angie Location: Midnight Tournament Michael was forced to use his alternate fighting style against his opponent, but it was evidently still not enough. Even with the Mithril Paintbrush augmenting his creations, that fighter seemed to power up and then rip off Michael's restraints. When the arena shattered from the fighter's blow, Michael lost his footing and fell to the ground. Looking back up, he could see that his opponent had raised a large chink of the arena floor above his head. Something wasn't right with him, though, as he looked like he was going berserk. Some bystanders even attempted to intervene. One in particular, Erisse, had summoned a gun and was currently blasting away at the fighter, each shot sounding off with a thunderous noise. Michael pressed his hands over his ears, wincing from the pain of his battered eardrums. Michael knew that this was not the place to be any longer, and began to make a getaway, scooting his way over to the arena edge and backing away from the scene. Fortunately at this point, it seemed Erisse was done firing, so Michael yelled out at her, "A little warning next time would be nice!" Then he realized his ears were still ringing, and it was difficult to even hear his own voice. Michael drew cross Symbols over his ears with white ink using the Mithril Paintbrush he received from Erisse, hoping it would be enough to restore his damaged eardrums. Fortunately they were, and they also healed other minor injuries on him, but not his fatigue. All the excitement from this tournament was finally taking its toll on him, leaving him quite spent on energy. He went over to a nearby stool and sat down, hoping he could get a chance to rest.</s>
<\|description\|>Michael Angie AKA Michelangelo Age: 16 Grade: St. Laurel's School of Divine Excellence, 2nd year Biography: Michael grew up in a poor family with a single mother, who barely made ends meet to put food on the table. It wasn't much, but it was enough for the two to be happy enough. At least, it was enough, until one day a bully began to make his life miserable. The bully in question had influential parents as well, making it difficult to punish him. As a result, Michael couldn't do much to lessen the abuse he was receiving. He tried asking for help from friends and teachers, but both chose to look the other way. Coincidentally, the bully's father was also Michael's mother's boss, who was also undergoing some troubles of her own at work. Michael was left alone, with nothing but his family and the occasional stray animal for support. He liked animals, even if he couldn't afford to keep a pet. As time passed and everyone discovered their powers, the bullying only became worse. The bully had obtained a typical steel-skin super strength ability while Michael had ink coming out of his fingers. At first, it was torture. However, Michael was not completely helpless. While all this was happening, Michael did what he could to figure out how his power worked and how best to apply it. He worked and experimented tirelessly, and it eventually paid off. With his newfound knowledge, Michael was able to stand on equal ground against the bully, and even overpower him. The bully's father attempted to get payback, but the company found evidence against the father's various harassment and embezzlement cases, and he was promptly fired. Michael's mother was also promoted to a higher position, and the two were able to live more comfortably. With the bully out of sight and out of mind, things were looking up. Powers: CORE: The World is Your Canvas Michael can generate ink from his own body as will, and manipulate it as he sees fit. The ink travels quickly, allowing him to draw complex pieces that normal artists would take days in a matter of seconds. This allows him to create works of art that projects his will onto the world, limited by his imagination. Should he infuse his creations with power, the energy needed will come from his own body, and will be drained proportionally to the amount of power he wishes to infuse. The more complex and detailed pieces of art will allow him to infuse more energy than those he spends less effort on. However, if he does not have the energy reserves needed, he will drain himself dry and pass out. SUB 1: Symbolism By drawing patterns and/or symbols, Michael can apply a series of buffs and/or debuffs, involving things such as increasing physical stats and regeneration, as well as robbing people of their senses or freedom of movement. Inanimate objects are not immune from this effect, either, and can be weakened or strengthened accordingly. Given the right symbols and/or intentions, he can even duplicate certain powers, such as generating explosions or stretching one's body like a rubber band. Many details are needed for these powers to function exactly as Michael wishes them to, such as an AoE healing ability affecting only those he considers allies. His Symbols will last for as long as Michael wants it to (or at least for as long as he's conscious), and can be dispelled by him at any time. SUB 2: Creation Michael draws a picture of an object, and is able to construct said object into reality. These constructs will last as long as Michael wants it to (or at least for as long as he's conscious), and can be deconstructed by him at any time. Creations typically need to be drawn to a 1:1 scale to reach a desired size. SUB 3: Animation With additional effort, Michael can bring his creations to life, granting them basic sentience and absolute loyalty to him. Inanimate objects will float around, machines will function as Michael realistically imagines them to, and creatures will even be able to speak. The Mithril Paintbrush A Relic made by Erisse Augusta Narrativia, the Mithril Paintbrush has the power to enhance, as well as replicate, the power known as The World is Your Canvas; the enhancement increases the potency of each use of the enchanted ink by a third of the base power's original strength. However, the Mithril Paintbrush can also change the ink to various 'colors', each with an Elemental Attribute. Red and Orange - Fire. Yellow and Green - Earth. Blue and Indigo - Water. Violet - Poison. Grey - Air. White - Healing Light. This Relic can be used by anyone, but at reduced potency; they get a duplicate of 'The World is Your Canvas' at only one-third of the power's original strength (Moving ink is more sluggish, buffs are almost irrelevant, and creation takes a heavy toll on your energy), but can still access Elemental Attributes. Relationships: N/A</s> <\|message\|>Michael Angie Location: St. Laurel's Academy The excitement of the Midnight Tournament had passed, and it was now another day. The morning arrived, and classes came and went. And Michael was bored. There was no combat involved in any of his lessons, unless he counted the history lessons involving the gladiators of old, which he didn't. As he walked, his mind raced to yesterday's events. He could still imagine every punch he threw, every Symbol pattern on his body, and even the fear he felt when his last opponent broke free from his art constructs. Then his mind wandered to a certain girl that also participated in the tournament. With her "demon" persona, the power her spell cards gave her, and even a certain misunderstanding on his part... Michael shook his head, blushing fiercely as he tried to clear his thoughts. He didn't want to believe it, but the beating of his heart forced him to confront his feelings. He didn't know when it started. It certainly didn't happen when they first met, nor when they first started hanging out together, but somewhere along the way, it happened. He had fallen in love with Alexandria. Still, Michael tried his best to repress them. He enjoyed challenges, but this was one he was not willing to deal with. In his mind, his goal for strength was his main drive in life, and these lousy teenage hormones were only distracting him. Lost in thought, Michael kept walking and almost crashed into someone, just barely swerving out of the way. "Agh, dammit, sor-" Michael was about to apologize before he got a good look at who he had almost walked into. Alexandria, just the girl plaguing his thoughts. And from the looks of things, she wasn't doing so well. She was barely shuffling around rather than walking. Michael hoped she had gotten something to eat at least. He may not have wanted to deal with his emotions, but he could never turn away from someone who looked like they needed help. Quickly catching up to Alex, Michael cried out, "Hey, Alex!" and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you ok? You don't look so good."</s> <\|message\|>Alyona Yenina Alexandria Alex had bumped into someone, and nearly stumbled into an epic spill before they caught her. For a brief moment, she wanted to go limp, allowing the person that grabbed her to do all the work of keeping her standing - but she resisted the urge. Then she heard their voice. "M-Michael?! Is that you?" Alex spun around, looking as though she might ascend from her mortal body at any moment. The sudden turn gave her a headrush, and she found herself teetering forward, coming to a rest on Michael's chest. "T-This is it for me... Please... Look after my mobile game accounts..." Alex for a moment felt like she might fall asleep standing up, in this brief moment of rest against Michael... Then she snapped awake, realizing what she was doing. Quickly straightening up, she took a quick step back. "Bwah?! I'm so sorry! I-I'msorryIdidn'tsleepatallandI'mstarvingsorryforhuggingyouI'mdealingwithalotrightnowsorrysorrysorry!!!" This was too much for her poor heart; Alex covered her face with her bag, which promptly opened due to being half-fastened, spilling her papers and folders all along the floor.</s>	<\|message\|>Michael Angie Location: St. Laurel's Academy "A-Alex!?" Michael stuttered in surprise as he caught her, his heart beating rapidly as Alex practically collapsed onto him. His mind was blank, unable to function from the sudden development, and all he could do was stare at her. Fortunately, Alex came to her senses faster and decided to hide in her backpack. After a second more of his continued silence, Michael suddenly doubled over and burst into laughter. Yeah, that was the Alexandria he remembered. Not the idealized version of her that kept popping up in his mind, but a simple girl who performed such silly actions. Michael crouched down and began to pick up her papers. "I'm not mad, Alex," Michael reassured her. "But really, you should take better care of yourself." Handing over the papers and folders he had collected back to Alex, Michael continued, "Come on, take that thing off your head. And seriously, quit making me worry about you so much." Then he realized what he was saying. Clearing his throat, he said, "I- I mean, um..." Thinking quick, Michael reached into his own backpack and handed over to Alex a small plastic container with a basic homemade lunch inside. It was his own lunch, but he was willing to part with it, especially since it seemed Alex needed it more than he did. "Here. You, uh, said you hadn't eaten, right? K-keep your strength up," Michael said, turning away as he blushed fiercely.</s>