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<\|description\|>Mysaren Race: Bean Nighe Gender: Female Age: 22 Occupation: Unemployed, robs graves for a living. Personality/Interests On the surface, she seems like a very easy person to talk to, someone who you can trust, someone who knows a lot about the world. On the inside, though, Mysaren just desperately wants to be accepted by people. One of her biggest fears is people not liking her. Mysaren can be seen as somewhat manipulative, lying and cheating to people often to get her way, although this is something that she is trying to fix. She's definitely not above dirty tricks in order to get what she wants, or sometimes needs. She's very good at feigning confidence, which is how she does her "job", by either brute force or pretending that she's supposed to be in area's that she's not supposed to go. Despite this, she's definitely loyal to those she cares about, and definitely tries to help her friends in family in any way she can. Mysaren is somewhat hot-headed, and has a very quick temper. On the inside, she's a very sensitive person, though. She takes a lot of things literally, and doesn't really appreciate jokes or teasing at all. She cares immensely about her family at home, and her greatest fear is something bad happening to them. Her entire life has been spent trying to support them the best she can, even stealing and cheating in order to get money. She's often very cheap, not liking to spend money frivolously, even if she has money. She has a bit of a mistrust for anyone with large amounts of money as well. Appearance Mysaren is a rather tall women, having the look of a warrior. She's muscular, with a chiseled, prominent jaw and square face. She has short, curly black hair, which barely goes past her ears, although her bangs cover her eyes if not pulled back. She has dark brown skin, which is marred with various scars. Her eyes are deep-set, and blue eyes that look like the deep end of the pool. Freckles cover a large amount of her face, and are lightly sprinkled on her shoulders. Details Body build: Muscular, well built. Hair: Short, curly. Hair color: Black. Skin color: Dark brown. Eye/Iris color: Dark blue. Height/Weight: 6'3, 185. Notable Features: Freckles, her arms and legs are somewhat covered in scars. Clothing Description She tends to wear long, dark purple robes with a gold trim around the edges, and a hood. Underneath, she wears a black tunic, a normal pair of pants which are brown, and a belt, which is covered in various small pockets and bags. She carries a larger, messenger bag that's made of black leather and has several runes carved into it. She also wears thick, black leather gloves, and rather strong, worn boots, made for travelling. Equipment A spell book and several other books, a few healing and mana potions, various materials for her spell work, a shovel, a lantern, and a bottle of oil. Weapon(s) Her wand, a knife, and a small sword. Powers Due to her years spent living in the darkness, she has a heightened sense of sight. Abilities She is able to tell when someone is about to die, although she can't get specifics on who/why/how. It's usually just a loud, wordless muttering in the back of her mind. Talents Hand to hand combat. Petty thievery Her persuasive power. Magic Deals primarily in Necromancy. Talking with the deceased, being able to call upon them in times of battle. Sessamaru - "He seems level-headed, but I am envious of his rather joyous personality." Historia - "A naive little bird. I do hope she at least knows enough to stay out of trouble." Saha - "Never much liked snakes." Katelia - "An annoyance." Julio - "He knows how to keep his mouth shut. I can respect that." Azzrix - "Pompous ass. I can't help but respect his ability to kill rich people though. Keeps me in business." Margaret - "I don't much respect greediness, but she's at least a good companion otherwise." Naida - "Rather nice. Pretty cute as well." Drubbins - "An idiot. Lovable, but an idiot." Tahira - "One of them brainy types, and not so good with people. Kinda painful to talk with her." Rimau - "He has a very similar sense of humor as me, and he's pretty friendly. I like him a lot." Claire - "Rather shy, but not bad to talk to. Could be a good friend." Viggo - "I can't stand him or his music." Rouen - "Some pretty rich boy who thinks he knows how the world works because he's lived in a nice castle all his life." Falen - "I respect him a lot. He kinda scares me sometimes though..."</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan began to tune the lizard out for a bit as the scene behind him caught his attention. Some poor bastard was trying to pick a fight with Kat, the tavern's hunter. He craned his neck to look the offender up and down, an amused smirk briefly gracing his lips. Then the zizz regained his attention. He turned back to the lizard man, a stern frown reappearing on his face. "A wolf?" He asked flatly. "Yes, I've seen it a couple times." Felan was very clearly not impressed by this information. "And I've never had trouble with it, or any wolf for that matter. Maybe if you keep your ass off my land, you won't either." There was almost a threatening undertone there. Felan didn't like killing; he figured every life he took was a little more taken from his own. Unless it was a goblin life, of course. But regardless, he only had so much patience. If the lizard kept slithering around his land, Felan would give him a reason to pack.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat was still fuming when she practically threw herself into her usual seat, the tavern's strongest drink in hand. Gods, she was pissed. She dealt with idiots all day and didn't get more than annoyed at them, and now this. Where the hell had her composure gone? That was a silly question. She knew exactly where it'd gone: out the door the instant the knight had the nerve to insinuate Kat was some down-on-her-luck waif, unable to do anything without assistance. (Because really, that's exactly what she was, wasn't it?) She was ripped out of her thoughts when she heard Hel growling. The knight was up and glowering, taking a purposeful step towards her. The leopard stood between his charge and this new threat, muscles tensed and ready to spring if the stranger made a move. She took in a breath to mouth off again, but that runt with the mismatched wings shot up, apparently feeling the need to intervene. Kat's eyebrow twitches as she just got more pissed off. Now this twerp thought she needed help, too. "No," she called out. She forced herself to relax in her seat, once again running her fingers through Hel's fur. He just glanced back at her, a questioning look on his face. "Let 'im try what he wants. I wanna see Bernie throw his sorry ass out." That was probably the one reason she'd yet to draw a knife. Kat'd been at the Blue Moon Tavern long enough to know how bar fights ended.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur "How dare that little village-wench throw away my gratitude," he thought as he took his first step forward. As he did he watched her pet stand between himself and her. It raised its haunches towards him and growled threateningly. He heard something crash behind him and voices rose up. He ignored it. "Perfect, I'll fry her wild runt. A perfect lesson to teach this peasant," his brow furrowed further into a mean glare. He placed the cup of ale on the bar and removed his leather glove which was coated inside with an electric-resistant tree sap. With focus he concentrated to cause his body's electric current to intensify. It had exhausting repercussions, but Rouen was too angry to care. A small part of him thought this was overreacting but he was too exhausted to not be angry. "Never cross a Fulgur, or you will feel heaven's thunder," he thought remembering his family's motto. Small Static discharges appeared between the fingers of his ungloved hand. He was about to take another step forward when a whirlwind of brown hair and wings appeared in front of him. Rouen shifted his glare to the obstacle. It turned out to be a winged girl wearing thick goggles. "If she thinks she is gonna help her friend then sh-," he thought when she spoke. "E-Excuse me M'lord, I understand that you are upset right now, but we've already had some problems in this tavern today..." he heard. She breathed deeply and continued, "Starting a fight wouldn't do any good right now, and I am sure that a man of stature would be able to put whatever transgression that has went down between you and Miss Kat behind you for the good of the public. I'm sorry if I come off a bit rude and putting my nose where it doesn't belong, but currently this Tavern is my home and I'd like for nothing else to happen in it today." He was off-put by her mannerisms. Her plead reached the part of him that remembered the vows he took upon accepting his post. The glare on his face retreated softly into thoughtful expression. The electric current weaving in and around his body thinned out into nothingness. Exhaustion set in from the exertion and lack of energy. "Very well, little lady. I must thank you for reminding my of my post. After all manners do make the man," he said looking at her. "I shall cause no further trouble in your abode, have a good day." He turned around and saw what caused the noise from earlier. The odd fox-eared fay seemed to have tripped and made a mess of the bar and an elderly patron. The white-haired innkeeper seemed to be doing his best to clean up. "Oh dear I should help out" he thought and walked up to the elderly patron and the fox-eared fay. "Do you require any assistance?" he asked them.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia let out quite the audible sigh when she realized that this knight was most likely not going to cause any trouble now. Which was good, because he had been gathering up electricity (was that his magic?) and that was one of the things that really didn't mix well with Historia. But thankfully Historia had been right in her assumptions of how this nobleman would act if she reached out to his better nature as humbly as she could. Compared to the look of ready to kill someone that he had when Historia stepped in (and she had no idea why she hadn't stepped right back out at that point) to the look now that he was going over to help Mr. Sess at the bar, it was clear to her that she had done the right thing. Even if it did annoy Miss Kat. Speaking of which, Historia turned around and took a few steps towards Miss Kat (while being weary of Hel's reaction) and said, "Pardon my intervention Miss Kat. I know how strong you are, and with Hel, there's not a lot that either of you can't do. But many of us here in the Tavern are tired of fighting for the day and Mr. Bernard would probably like it if he didn't have to break up another fight in here." She started to turn but then added, "I'll try to keep to myself the next time though..." with that she turned back to her seat, walking back and sitting down between Claire and Mysaren. "Sorry about that." Historia said, a little embarrassed. "So um...what were we talking about?"</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was still drinking when he saw the altercation go on between Kat and the newcomer. Had he not drank so much then he would have tried to break it up, but the alcohol made the idea of fight seem entertaining and he was tempted to start cheering them on, but Historia intervened, which was a bit of a surprise since she seemed very shy to him, but she actually went up to talk to a big swordsmen who seemed to have electrical powers. "Very well, little lady. I must thank you for reminding my of my post. After all manners do make the man," he said looking at her. "I shall cause no further trouble in your abode, have a good day." he heard Rouen say, he already liked this newcomer already. It was a rare thing to find such discipline, he had to be of noble birth to have manners like that Azzrix thought to himself, maybe they could work together eventually, he never objected to having more muscle in his party. He walked over to where Historia, Claire and Mysaren were sitting to start up a conversation. "That was an admirible attempt at ending their argument before it became a fight" he said to Historia. He then looked at the other two with her and gave a polite bow. "Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Azzrix Grimmor. I am paying for all of the drinks so please drink whatever you like. I hope that we can do business sometime in the near future" he said to them with a smile.</s>	<\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren nodded. Yes, she just wanted to show concern for Historia, that's all. She had seen too many good kids lose everything just because they got a bit too hopeful. "I just don't wish to be rude, Historia," She said after a while, her voice low and dark, "just remember that bad things can happen to good people. Watch out for yourself. At least you have me now, yeah?" At the last sentence, she grinned again, sighing and watching the patrons of the bar. "A tour?" She said, considering the possibility. Yes, a tour would be very nice. All she knew about was the tavern and the graveyard, but knowing of the other houses and buildings, especially a shop to sell her wares, would be very useful to know about. Especially anywhere she could run to in case of trouble, or in case that she needed to grab a lot of items and get the hell out of town, which had happened a few times. The guards would be called, she would grab everything she can within the nearest big house she could find, and she fled, never to be seen again. Mysaren paid little attention to the fight about to start, even when Historia got involved. She could say with about 90% accuracy that no one would've died from the fight, at least not within the first while of it. Historia handled it surprisingly well, in a more diplomatic way than she would've. Historia spoke and Mysaren looked at her. "Uhm, tour around town, things like that. That would be very useful, thank you, Historia." She didn't like that she was making friends at this point. Friends just kept her in town longer, and if she wasn't on the move constantly, someone would finally catch up to her, and thus ends the story of Mysaren. Mysaren looked up as Azzrix introduced himself, raising an eyebrow and watching him carefully. "Mysaren. Pleasure." She said rather bluntly, something off about the man in front of her. He seemed shady to her, and she didn't exactly feel like trusting him right now. Ah, what the hell, benefit of the doubt, right? She still looked wary as he spoke. "Thank you for the drinks, Azzrix, but tell me, what business did you have in mind?"</s>
<\|description\|>Mysaren Race: Bean Nighe Gender: Female Age: 22 Occupation: Unemployed, robs graves for a living. Personality/Interests On the surface, she seems like a very easy person to talk to, someone who you can trust, someone who knows a lot about the world. On the inside, though, Mysaren just desperately wants to be accepted by people. One of her biggest fears is people not liking her. Mysaren can be seen as somewhat manipulative, lying and cheating to people often to get her way, although this is something that she is trying to fix. She's definitely not above dirty tricks in order to get what she wants, or sometimes needs. She's very good at feigning confidence, which is how she does her "job", by either brute force or pretending that she's supposed to be in area's that she's not supposed to go. Despite this, she's definitely loyal to those she cares about, and definitely tries to help her friends in family in any way she can. Mysaren is somewhat hot-headed, and has a very quick temper. On the inside, she's a very sensitive person, though. She takes a lot of things literally, and doesn't really appreciate jokes or teasing at all. She cares immensely about her family at home, and her greatest fear is something bad happening to them. Her entire life has been spent trying to support them the best she can, even stealing and cheating in order to get money. She's often very cheap, not liking to spend money frivolously, even if she has money. She has a bit of a mistrust for anyone with large amounts of money as well. Appearance Mysaren is a rather tall women, having the look of a warrior. She's muscular, with a chiseled, prominent jaw and square face. She has short, curly black hair, which barely goes past her ears, although her bangs cover her eyes if not pulled back. She has dark brown skin, which is marred with various scars. Her eyes are deep-set, and blue eyes that look like the deep end of the pool. Freckles cover a large amount of her face, and are lightly sprinkled on her shoulders. Details Body build: Muscular, well built. Hair: Short, curly. Hair color: Black. Skin color: Dark brown. Eye/Iris color: Dark blue. Height/Weight: 6'3, 185. Notable Features: Freckles, her arms and legs are somewhat covered in scars. Clothing Description She tends to wear long, dark purple robes with a gold trim around the edges, and a hood. Underneath, she wears a black tunic, a normal pair of pants which are brown, and a belt, which is covered in various small pockets and bags. She carries a larger, messenger bag that's made of black leather and has several runes carved into it. She also wears thick, black leather gloves, and rather strong, worn boots, made for travelling. Equipment A spell book and several other books, a few healing and mana potions, various materials for her spell work, a shovel, a lantern, and a bottle of oil. Weapon(s) Her wand, a knife, and a small sword. Powers Due to her years spent living in the darkness, she has a heightened sense of sight. Abilities She is able to tell when someone is about to die, although she can't get specifics on who/why/how. It's usually just a loud, wordless muttering in the back of her mind. Talents Hand to hand combat. Petty thievery Her persuasive power. Magic Deals primarily in Necromancy. Talking with the deceased, being able to call upon them in times of battle. Sessamaru - "He seems level-headed, but I am envious of his rather joyous personality." Historia - "A naive little bird. I do hope she at least knows enough to stay out of trouble." Saha - "Never much liked snakes." Katelia - "An annoyance." Julio - "He knows how to keep his mouth shut. I can respect that." Azzrix - "Pompous ass. I can't help but respect his ability to kill rich people though. Keeps me in business." Margaret - "I don't much respect greediness, but she's at least a good companion otherwise." Naida - "Rather nice. Pretty cute as well." Drubbins - "An idiot. Lovable, but an idiot." Tahira - "One of them brainy types, and not so good with people. Kinda painful to talk with her." Rimau - "He has a very similar sense of humor as me, and he's pretty friendly. I like him a lot." Claire - "Rather shy, but not bad to talk to. Could be a good friend." Viggo - "I can't stand him or his music." Rouen - "Some pretty rich boy who thinks he knows how the world works because he's lived in a nice castle all his life." Falen - "I respect him a lot. He kinda scares me sometimes though..."</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix heard their responses and was slightly disappointed that Mysaren wasn't interested in going on missions with him yet, but he decided that he would have to wait for some other time. Azzrix excused himself to go look at the mission board and then he overheard Naida talking about a mission to find the daughter of a patron to the tavern who had gone missing. Azzrix also heard her mention the possibility of the patron being rich and he became even more interested. He then noticed a commotion going on in the kitchen and saw the weird dog like man run out with a pot of stew with the cooks screaming at him as he fled. Azzrix shook his head at the foolishness of the man, he would make a terrible thief if that's what he thought was worth stealing. Azzrix was interested in the mission so he followed them to wherever they were headed. He decided to follow Naida and soon saw that she was headed back to her home. Azzrix thought that it would be best to quickly go get his things. He quickly headed back to the place where he was staying to get his things and change his clothes. Once in his room he put on his darker robes and traveling cloak which were his thieving clothes when he wasn't robbing people in plain sight. Azzrix attached his rapier and Parrying Dagger to his belt and got his throwing knives and hand crossbow. Once he got the arrows for his crossbow Azzrix left his home and went look for Naida. He eventually found her waiting around and walked up to her calmly. "If you don't mind I would like to partake in this mission, a person with my kind of talents would be a great asset on a mission like this" he said to her with a polite tone to his voice.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "If y'say so, m'good... person." Rimau said after listening to what the Priest had to say, still unsure over what pronouns to use. He scratched his head as the Priest's words came tumbling into his mind, and back out again. 'Heh... poor kid.' He thought, remembering the standards of life set for him and the rest of his kind. 'Where I come from, people who try an' see the light usually end up makin' a bloody mess of 'emselves on the streets, heheh.' He was about to shake his hand, until his attention was stolen by the big-pauldron dumbass. The Zizz squinted at that man with suspicion for a good while, listening in on his words. He didn't say that much, but he had a blank expression of purpose on his face, something Rimau was all too familiar with, to the point of it seemingly transcending the racial boundaries. It was the sort of expression made by a dedicated servant. A loyal attack dog. There was something about him that Rimau just didn't like, beyond simply looking ridiculous with his oversized equipment. Rimau decided to turn away from him until he walked away from the nearby mission board, slapping the side of his head. He was worrying too much. Once he was out the way, Rimau took the opportunity to leave a coin on the bar (with the face of someone he didn't recognise on it) and turn his head around to inspect the board; his eyesight enabled him to see what was on the papers without having to clamber down and navigate the masses again; it wasn't that far away, anyways. "Well now, what do we 'ave 'ere?" He muttered to himself as he took a look, scratching the side of his chin. There were a few jobs in the city, which weren't really his thing; he'd seen enough of urban warfare in his time, and none of them seemed suited to his skillset anyway. Ignoring the fetch-quests, there were a couple of jobs offered by some local noblemen. They both demanded the return of something, that something having been stolen from them. One of them, a golden mask, and the other, his daughter. The rescue mission seemed easier, with the tribe responsible for the kidnapping in open territory, but Rimau was never one for babysitting spoilt princess-types. Plus, if he knew human nobility, they'd pay a lot more for a trinket than for their trophy daughters. Tough decision.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren stood to stretch, noticing the mission board cleared up a bit. Fine, she'd go look. She waltzed over, to looking at the papers curiously. She noticed a specific mission, one about a thief and a golden mask. Seemed easy enough, and returning something that expensive had to have a good reward for it. She grabbed the paper, looking at it curiously before smiling. Yeah, she could do this. She needed someone to do it with though, she knew that. As helpful as necromancy was, it wasn't exactly the most useful of powers in combat. Talking with the dead and raising them to fight for her was great, and bodies were kinda plentiful around these parts, but it required a lot of energy, and she wasn't the best of controlling them. She felt someone staring at her, and she turned, her eyes darting to the lizard guy. Oh yeah, that ass. Well, maybe he was nice, just a bit rude in the "don't blow smoke all around the tavern." department. Was he looking at her, or... Surely his eyesight couldn't be that good? She didn't really know anything about whatever species he was, besides, well, they were obviously rather large lizards.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau was about to look further into the job about the golden mask when the paper was suddenly taken off the board by some kid in fancy robes. He attempted to position himself in such a manner that he could continue reading, but no such luck; the kid was simply too big for him to not obscure Rimau's vision. He screwed up his face and grumbled for a brief moment. Alas, if he could see through solid objects, not only would he be the world's greatest marksman, without a doubt, but this sort of annoyance wouldn't happen. Soon, however, the kid suddenly turned around and looked Rimau directly in the eyes, the invisible 'force' of which prompted Rimau's own eyes to widen and his the line that was his mouth to upturn in a more friendly manner. It was then he realised something; the kid was actually a woman. A square-jawed woman, sure, but still a woman. Those were some thick robes. The sort of robes Rimau would die in if he wore them. Deciding that you can always get more done in life if you're nice to people, Rimau decided to clamber down off of his stool and make his way over to the lady; as fun as it was to keep rivalries, most of the time it tended to be impractical and juvenile to insist on a professional rivalry with a specific individual, especially if the job was well-paying. Merely competing with other mercs and hunters was a fact of business. But 'sportsmanlike' rivalry? Laughable. "Heyo there, kid. Couldn't 'elp but notice y'took down that mighty interestin' job proposition off the wall. ...Can't say I've seen y'round 'ere before, either." He said as he approached the lady, that weird muffle effect the Tavern seemed to have turning on. He stopped to look her over, see if she was the trustworthy type. She was certainly a lot taller than she looked, even taller than most humans he'd seen, who all tended to be taller than Rimau anyway. Made them easier to target. Raising one brow, he looked over her scars; clearly, she had experience with fighting, then. You don't get the sorts of scars on her face from cutting yourself while shaving... not that she'd need to shave, but still. Her attire seemed to suggest a magic user; magic and him didn't get along too well, but its practitioners had their uses. Their flashy tricks were very distracting for most people, and Skrin'Ko was indeed bound to him by an enchantier. Very nice fellow, he was. After a few seconds, Rimau decided he may as well introduce himself; after all, a name doesn't convey much. But he kept his hands close to his body, in case she was the twitchy kind. "...Th'name's Rimau. Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku, but that's, uh... well, y'don't wanna know m'full name. Believe me, some'un once asked for it, an' lemme tell ya... uh, never mind. What's your name, kid?" He asked, smiling a little.</s>	<\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren quirked an eyebrow when the lizard man came over to her, and she finally looked him over. He dressed... he dressed in an interesting manner, with large goggles, and bright feathers on the side of some leather vest. His skin was a rather drab looking green, and from the cracks, he was probably very old. She smiled when he spoke to her finally, looking at the paper in her hand again. "Ah, well, I'm new. I... I travel a lot," she said finally, not bothering to make up some elaborate lie. No need. "I was hoping to find some work around here." He looked weathered, the type of person (lizard?) who had seen a lot, and she could respect that. She craned her neck down to look at him, and even then she couldn't see that much. She was at least a foot taller than him, but she felt that maybe it would be a bit rude to kneel down, so she decided not to. "My name is Mysaren," she said. "Pleasure to meet you, Rimau. It's alright, I don't...don't need a full name." Full names were perhaps too much. Hell, telling people her name in the first place made her itch, but she would look suspicious if she didn't. "Actually, Rimau, I was just about to go looking for someone who may assist me on this mission, yeah? Seems dangerous, and while I won't say that I'm not a good fighter, I could always use an extra hand. Were you also interested?" Maybe going on a mission with a strange lizard she just met wasn't the best of ideas, but he seemed trustworthy enough. Besides, if he did betray her, well, she could handle herself pretty well. She could probably pick him up if she truly wanted to, and she knew her way around a sword, as well as magic. Mysaren always preferred using magic, something that most folk didn't like, especially the type of magic she used. Necromancy was rather frowned upon, considering that bringing people back from the dead as nothing more than zombies to be controlled might be a bit of a problem for most people, but she hoped that Rimau didn't have any prejudices in that department. She was rather excited to go on a mission, and a good companion could be the difference between life and death for her.</s>
<\|description\|>Mysaren Race: Bean Nighe Gender: Female Age: 22 Occupation: Unemployed, robs graves for a living. Personality/Interests On the surface, she seems like a very easy person to talk to, someone who you can trust, someone who knows a lot about the world. On the inside, though, Mysaren just desperately wants to be accepted by people. One of her biggest fears is people not liking her. Mysaren can be seen as somewhat manipulative, lying and cheating to people often to get her way, although this is something that she is trying to fix. She's definitely not above dirty tricks in order to get what she wants, or sometimes needs. She's very good at feigning confidence, which is how she does her "job", by either brute force or pretending that she's supposed to be in area's that she's not supposed to go. Despite this, she's definitely loyal to those she cares about, and definitely tries to help her friends in family in any way she can. Mysaren is somewhat hot-headed, and has a very quick temper. On the inside, she's a very sensitive person, though. She takes a lot of things literally, and doesn't really appreciate jokes or teasing at all. She cares immensely about her family at home, and her greatest fear is something bad happening to them. Her entire life has been spent trying to support them the best she can, even stealing and cheating in order to get money. She's often very cheap, not liking to spend money frivolously, even if she has money. She has a bit of a mistrust for anyone with large amounts of money as well. Appearance Mysaren is a rather tall women, having the look of a warrior. She's muscular, with a chiseled, prominent jaw and square face. She has short, curly black hair, which barely goes past her ears, although her bangs cover her eyes if not pulled back. She has dark brown skin, which is marred with various scars. Her eyes are deep-set, and blue eyes that look like the deep end of the pool. Freckles cover a large amount of her face, and are lightly sprinkled on her shoulders. Details Body build: Muscular, well built. Hair: Short, curly. Hair color: Black. Skin color: Dark brown. Eye/Iris color: Dark blue. Height/Weight: 6'3, 185. Notable Features: Freckles, her arms and legs are somewhat covered in scars. Clothing Description She tends to wear long, dark purple robes with a gold trim around the edges, and a hood. Underneath, she wears a black tunic, a normal pair of pants which are brown, and a belt, which is covered in various small pockets and bags. She carries a larger, messenger bag that's made of black leather and has several runes carved into it. She also wears thick, black leather gloves, and rather strong, worn boots, made for travelling. Equipment A spell book and several other books, a few healing and mana potions, various materials for her spell work, a shovel, a lantern, and a bottle of oil. Weapon(s) Her wand, a knife, and a small sword. Powers Due to her years spent living in the darkness, she has a heightened sense of sight. Abilities She is able to tell when someone is about to die, although she can't get specifics on who/why/how. It's usually just a loud, wordless muttering in the back of her mind. Talents Hand to hand combat. Petty thievery Her persuasive power. Magic Deals primarily in Necromancy. Talking with the deceased, being able to call upon them in times of battle. Sessamaru - "He seems level-headed, but I am envious of his rather joyous personality." Historia - "A naive little bird. I do hope she at least knows enough to stay out of trouble." Saha - "Never much liked snakes." Katelia - "An annoyance." Julio - "He knows how to keep his mouth shut. I can respect that." Azzrix - "Pompous ass. I can't help but respect his ability to kill rich people though. Keeps me in business." Margaret - "I don't much respect greediness, but she's at least a good companion otherwise." Naida - "Rather nice. Pretty cute as well." Drubbins - "An idiot. Lovable, but an idiot." Tahira - "One of them brainy types, and not so good with people. Kinda painful to talk with her." Rimau - "He has a very similar sense of humor as me, and he's pretty friendly. I like him a lot." Claire - "Rather shy, but not bad to talk to. Could be a good friend." Viggo - "I can't stand him or his music." Rouen - "Some pretty rich boy who thinks he knows how the world works because he's lived in a nice castle all his life." Falen - "I respect him a lot. He kinda scares me sometimes though..."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau was about to look further into the job about the golden mask when the paper was suddenly taken off the board by some kid in fancy robes. He attempted to position himself in such a manner that he could continue reading, but no such luck; the kid was simply too big for him to not obscure Rimau's vision. He screwed up his face and grumbled for a brief moment. Alas, if he could see through solid objects, not only would he be the world's greatest marksman, without a doubt, but this sort of annoyance wouldn't happen. Soon, however, the kid suddenly turned around and looked Rimau directly in the eyes, the invisible 'force' of which prompted Rimau's own eyes to widen and his the line that was his mouth to upturn in a more friendly manner. It was then he realised something; the kid was actually a woman. A square-jawed woman, sure, but still a woman. Those were some thick robes. The sort of robes Rimau would die in if he wore them. Deciding that you can always get more done in life if you're nice to people, Rimau decided to clamber down off of his stool and make his way over to the lady; as fun as it was to keep rivalries, most of the time it tended to be impractical and juvenile to insist on a professional rivalry with a specific individual, especially if the job was well-paying. Merely competing with other mercs and hunters was a fact of business. But 'sportsmanlike' rivalry? Laughable. "Heyo there, kid. Couldn't 'elp but notice y'took down that mighty interestin' job proposition off the wall. ...Can't say I've seen y'round 'ere before, either." He said as he approached the lady, that weird muffle effect the Tavern seemed to have turning on. He stopped to look her over, see if she was the trustworthy type. She was certainly a lot taller than she looked, even taller than most humans he'd seen, who all tended to be taller than Rimau anyway. Made them easier to target. Raising one brow, he looked over her scars; clearly, she had experience with fighting, then. You don't get the sorts of scars on her face from cutting yourself while shaving... not that she'd need to shave, but still. Her attire seemed to suggest a magic user; magic and him didn't get along too well, but its practitioners had their uses. Their flashy tricks were very distracting for most people, and Skrin'Ko was indeed bound to him by an enchantier. Very nice fellow, he was. After a few seconds, Rimau decided he may as well introduce himself; after all, a name doesn't convey much. But he kept his hands close to his body, in case she was the twitchy kind. "...Th'name's Rimau. Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku, but that's, uh... well, y'don't wanna know m'full name. Believe me, some'un once asked for it, an' lemme tell ya... uh, never mind. What's your name, kid?" He asked, smiling a little.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren quirked an eyebrow when the lizard man came over to her, and she finally looked him over. He dressed... he dressed in an interesting manner, with large goggles, and bright feathers on the side of some leather vest. His skin was a rather drab looking green, and from the cracks, he was probably very old. She smiled when he spoke to her finally, looking at the paper in her hand again. "Ah, well, I'm new. I... I travel a lot," she said finally, not bothering to make up some elaborate lie. No need. "I was hoping to find some work around here." He looked weathered, the type of person (lizard?) who had seen a lot, and she could respect that. She craned her neck down to look at him, and even then she couldn't see that much. She was at least a foot taller than him, but she felt that maybe it would be a bit rude to kneel down, so she decided not to. "My name is Mysaren," she said. "Pleasure to meet you, Rimau. It's alright, I don't...don't need a full name." Full names were perhaps too much. Hell, telling people her name in the first place made her itch, but she would look suspicious if she didn't. "Actually, Rimau, I was just about to go looking for someone who may assist me on this mission, yeah? Seems dangerous, and while I won't say that I'm not a good fighter, I could always use an extra hand. Were you also interested?" Maybe going on a mission with a strange lizard she just met wasn't the best of ideas, but he seemed trustworthy enough. Besides, if he did betray her, well, she could handle herself pretty well. She could probably pick him up if she truly wanted to, and she knew her way around a sword, as well as magic. Mysaren always preferred using magic, something that most folk didn't like, especially the type of magic she used. Necromancy was rather frowned upon, considering that bringing people back from the dead as nothing more than zombies to be controlled might be a bit of a problem for most people, but she hoped that Rimau didn't have any prejudices in that department. She was rather excited to go on a mission, and a good companion could be the difference between life and death for her.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau stood and listened to Mysaren's proposition carefully, with his arms crossed and his eyes squinting with focus to let her know he was listening. "Well, as it 'appens, I was mighty interested in that particular employment opportunity." He replied, curtly. "An' from the looks o' yer, I'd bet m'grand-pappy's soul that y'were some kinda magic specialista." After he said that, he idly sniffed at the lady by sticking his long, reptilian tongue out for a brief second. It was half-unconscious really, an old habit of his. When a Zizz met a new colleague, it was considered normal to sniff at them to show that they trusted them enough to disregard any blood they may have on them. Which was quite often. Unfortunately for Rimau, though, the scent he picked up off Mysaren's robes made him wince slightly. She had the stench of death coming off her, there was no doubt. And not just the figurative stench of a killer, but a literal stench of corpses. "...Necromancy, p'raps?" He asked, in as friendly as polite a tone he could manage. If she was, it'd be understandable if she wanted to hide it, but Rimau had nothing against Necromancers. If anything, he thought zombies made for an excellent barrel of laughs on a dull day, and that's ignoring his religious beliefs. "...Skills like that work 'specially well as a distraction." He continued, with interest. "...Lemme tell ya, some kids get real touchy when they see dead folks walkin', an' that makes fer a mighty effective distraction. From, say, the barrel of a nice Rifle trained at their 'ead." He said with a slightly devilish grin, pointing at Skrin-Ko's stock on his back; if he was right about her being a Necromancer, it only seemed fair he let her know what his preferred form of combat was. "I think we could work well t'gether."</s>	<\|message\|>Mysaren It took a moment for Mysaren to decipher Rimau's accent, before she nodded. "Yeah, I dabble a bit in magic." She said, watching as Rimau sniffed her curiously. She noticed the wince and mentally slapped herself. He smelled the corpses, she could tell that much. "Yeah, Necromancy." She thanked the gods that he didn't ask why she smelled like that. If anyone found out about her robbing graves, well, she was in a crowded tavern. She could try to run, but she wouldn't get far, and that made her feel might claustrophobic. "They work for more than distractions," She said, glad that Rimau didn't seem to mind the necromancy thing, "They're not bad at fighting. Not great, but you know. Yeah, most people get a bit.. skeeved out by it. Never understood why." People's concerns and disgust with the idea of death confused Mysaren. Maybe she just grew up around so much of it, maybe her blessing/curse made her desensitized, but she saw nothing wrong or morbid about death. Death was just as natural as life to her, the two forces working together instead of in opposition. Mysaren smiled, noting the rifle on his back. It definitely looked dangerous, and Mysaren wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it. "I do think that we would make a rather effective team, no? Yes, we could split the reward." They'd get plenty from the mission, and then she could split her half of the reward, and everything would be fine. Yes, she could make this work. She considered telling Rimau about her gift, the muttering and screaming in her head, but decided against it. He didn't need to know that, at least not right now. A power like that could be exploited, and even if she thought that she could take on Rimau by herself, she wouldn't know what to do if someone else in the tavern heard, someone bigger and stronger with more friends. Someone who would use her power to do bad things. Someone who woul- she decided to not think anymore about bad things happening to her. "I'm ready when you are, chief."</s>
<\|description\|>Mysaren Race: Bean Nighe Gender: Female Age: 22 Occupation: Unemployed, robs graves for a living. Personality/Interests On the surface, she seems like a very easy person to talk to, someone who you can trust, someone who knows a lot about the world. On the inside, though, Mysaren just desperately wants to be accepted by people. One of her biggest fears is people not liking her. Mysaren can be seen as somewhat manipulative, lying and cheating to people often to get her way, although this is something that she is trying to fix. She's definitely not above dirty tricks in order to get what she wants, or sometimes needs. She's very good at feigning confidence, which is how she does her "job", by either brute force or pretending that she's supposed to be in area's that she's not supposed to go. Despite this, she's definitely loyal to those she cares about, and definitely tries to help her friends in family in any way she can. Mysaren is somewhat hot-headed, and has a very quick temper. On the inside, she's a very sensitive person, though. She takes a lot of things literally, and doesn't really appreciate jokes or teasing at all. She cares immensely about her family at home, and her greatest fear is something bad happening to them. Her entire life has been spent trying to support them the best she can, even stealing and cheating in order to get money. She's often very cheap, not liking to spend money frivolously, even if she has money. She has a bit of a mistrust for anyone with large amounts of money as well. Appearance Mysaren is a rather tall women, having the look of a warrior. She's muscular, with a chiseled, prominent jaw and square face. She has short, curly black hair, which barely goes past her ears, although her bangs cover her eyes if not pulled back. She has dark brown skin, which is marred with various scars. Her eyes are deep-set, and blue eyes that look like the deep end of the pool. Freckles cover a large amount of her face, and are lightly sprinkled on her shoulders. Details Body build: Muscular, well built. Hair: Short, curly. Hair color: Black. Skin color: Dark brown. Eye/Iris color: Dark blue. Height/Weight: 6'3, 185. Notable Features: Freckles, her arms and legs are somewhat covered in scars. Clothing Description She tends to wear long, dark purple robes with a gold trim around the edges, and a hood. Underneath, she wears a black tunic, a normal pair of pants which are brown, and a belt, which is covered in various small pockets and bags. She carries a larger, messenger bag that's made of black leather and has several runes carved into it. She also wears thick, black leather gloves, and rather strong, worn boots, made for travelling. Equipment A spell book and several other books, a few healing and mana potions, various materials for her spell work, a shovel, a lantern, and a bottle of oil. Weapon(s) Her wand, a knife, and a small sword. Powers Due to her years spent living in the darkness, she has a heightened sense of sight. Abilities She is able to tell when someone is about to die, although she can't get specifics on who/why/how. It's usually just a loud, wordless muttering in the back of her mind. Talents Hand to hand combat. Petty thievery Her persuasive power. Magic Deals primarily in Necromancy. Talking with the deceased, being able to call upon them in times of battle. Sessamaru - "He seems level-headed, but I am envious of his rather joyous personality." Historia - "A naive little bird. I do hope she at least knows enough to stay out of trouble." Saha - "Never much liked snakes." Katelia - "An annoyance." Julio - "He knows how to keep his mouth shut. I can respect that." Azzrix - "Pompous ass. I can't help but respect his ability to kill rich people though. Keeps me in business." Margaret - "I don't much respect greediness, but she's at least a good companion otherwise." Naida - "Rather nice. Pretty cute as well." Drubbins - "An idiot. Lovable, but an idiot." Tahira - "One of them brainy types, and not so good with people. Kinda painful to talk with her." Rimau - "He has a very similar sense of humor as me, and he's pretty friendly. I like him a lot." Claire - "Rather shy, but not bad to talk to. Could be a good friend." Viggo - "I can't stand him or his music." Rouen - "Some pretty rich boy who thinks he knows how the world works because he's lived in a nice castle all his life." Falen - "I respect him a lot. He kinda scares me sometimes though..."</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia watched as not only Mr. Grimmor left the group, but also Miss Mysaren followed suit as well, both of them going over to look for jobs at the board. "Uh, bye?" She called out to them before sitting back in her seat, continuing sipping on the drink Bernard was kind enough to give to her. She watched as the two found jobs and partners for themselves (or in Mr. Grimmor's case, rushing out the door to find his partners). Historia began to wonder if there would be that many jobs left as she watched people still look at all the jobs at the boards. Well, all the well paying jobs would most likely be taken, the ones that had higher difficulty. Historia didn't usually take those jobs, mainly cause she wasn't a very strong fighter. She preferred easier, albeit less paying most of the time, jobs. Historia looked at Miss Claire when she spoke up, asking about looking at the board. "Yes, I was going to take a look at the board anyways. It'd be nice to see what you might want to do as well." Historia told her with a smile as she got up and walked over with her to the board. There was only three jobs that really interested Histoira. A missing memory book that could be anywhere in the city, a quest to find a teenage thief, and a quest to find a lost dog. The dog one would most likely be the easiest to do for Historia as she could just fly above the city and look for it that way. But Miss Claire couldn't fly so that one was out of the question. AS for the one with the thief, Historia didn't really want to get involved with a quest that had a really good chance of confronting someone that might fight back. So for now, that also wasn't a good option. That left the memory book. That was something that she and Claire could do rather easily, and the quest giver was a nobleman so they might get paid decently after all. "Does this sound good to you?" Historia asked Miss Claire as she handed her the paper to look at.</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske "Come along if you want," she replied, her voice bored and uncaring as ever. "Guess you're a better pick than most of these other idiots." Kat was clearly on edge. Tahira was not an expert on interpreting body language, but the leopard was eyeing her master uneasily and, considering how close the two were, that was the only cue she needed to sense the woman's discomfort. However, she had long ago learned when it was best to stifle her curiosity. As long as it did not interfere with their mission, the diminutive woman's issues were none of her concern. Cocking her head to the side, she recalled something that might be of use to the two of them. "I believe the library holds a tome which refers to these 'Drakas' at some length," Tahira said. "You can make ready to depart while I retrieve it." Turning her back on the duo, she moved away from the job board and went through the door to the library. Her fingers traced a path along the spine of several books as she moved up and down the shelves, seeking the one she had mentioned. [i]Ah, there[i]. Her hand touched the well-worn bindings of a tome which was simply entitled On Shoba, and penned by an unknown scholar on the subject. She had yet to read it, but its inclusion in the tavern's surprisingly extensive library lent something to its credibility, so she removed it from the shelf, making a note of where it belonged. Leaving the library as quickly as she had entered, she ascended to the second floor to receive the leather satchel that hung from a hook in the wall of her room. Slipping the book into one of its pockets, she returned to the place she had left Kat, satisfied she was prepared.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat stood where Tahira left her for a moment, staring after the woman as she made her way to the library. Stuffing any memories she had down, she thought on the witch. She was a fair sort, didn't talk down to either Kat or Hel, smart, probably useful if you had her on your side… but something about her made Kat want to always know where she was. It was probably just her stoicism and ethereal nature that peaked Kat's curiosity, but still. She looked back to Hel, and said "Watch her, yeah?" This probably meant that any vindictive plans Kat had been concocting were off limits in regards to the jewel. She didn't know much about Tahira, but she struck her as someone respectful and dutiful. She'd probably frown on how Kat was not. The two made their way to their room in the tavern and Kat scooped up her bag, tossing things in or out of it as she thought of what they might need. Once they were done, they walked back to the kitchen and grabbed some handfuls of dried meat ("We killed it, we can take it," she called back to a waitress glaring at them) and filled her water flask from the tap. After that, they made their way back to the area by the board, Tahira already waiting for them. "You ready?" she asked.</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske Tahira was not waiting long for Kat's return, although she did have time to note those who had left on missions and those still discussing them. Rimau and a robed newcomer seemed to be conversing rather amicably, her attire seemed to indicate a knowledge of the arcane which piqued the mystic's curiosity. Perhaps she would find an occasion to speak with her at a later date, for now she still had to familiarize herself with the witch, Margaret. As Kat asked if she was ready, Tahira nodded solemnly. "The cave we seek lies within the forests of Barvra," she said, tugging the satchel higher on her shoulder and straightening her robes. "The journey there should not be too strenuous, but once we delve into the forests it will become rather dangerous," she had studied Elrikur's geography, and new where the forest lay. It would not be too long before they reached their outskirts, depending on how they set their pace.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Alrighty then." Rimau said as cheerfully as a fellow such as him is capable of, removing the mission paper from Mysaren's hands and into his so he could have a look at the bit he didn't read. "...Now, it says 'ere that these robbers 'ave 'oled their loathsome selves up in some kinda mountain range, right?" He affirmed, still glancing at the paper to see if there was any hidden details. Or hidden clauses designed to screw them out of their reward. It wouldn't be surprising in the slightest. Not that it ever dissuaded him; gave him something to do, at least. And the ones who tried to kill him had a nasty habit of getting bullets driven into their brains. "...This could mean one o' two things; either this mission'll be a piece o' cake, or it'll be the opposite o' cake. Like a... piece o' pie." He continued, scratching the side of his chin again. He finally cast his glance away from the paper and back at Mysaren, a look of purpose on him. Not too unlike that pauldron dumbass' look, actually. "...An' that depends entirely on whether or not these dumbasses 'ave decided to hide out in a cave or not. That said, if I know yer average dumbass crook, they tend to leave lots an' lots o' evidence on their path. Hell, I'm surprised guards across the land 'aven't formed their own divisions dedicated to analysin' evidence an' drawin' conclusions from that. Like a... crime scene investigation team or somethin'." With that hypothesis out the way, he proceeded to pin the paper back to the board before someone yelled at him; or the tavern started acting weird again. Like maybe the board would swallow the paper up, and his hand along with it. It was then he realised something, which made him rub his eyes and roll his shoulders about. Travelling. To a mountain range. Probably very cold. "Also, I don't s'pose y'ave some kinda transportation method?" He asked, in such a manner so as to not be too forthcoming with his dislike of cold climates. If he had to be in a cold climate, he could at least minimise the time spent. Not the time spotting, that was important. But the time travelling, on the other hand... "...Uh... not that I mind walkin'." He said once he realised he may have paused for a second too long. "I may be three-hundred-and-three, but I ain't decomposin' just yet. But when I start, I'll be sure to tell yer so y'can make preparations, heheheh... uh... that was a joke."</s>	<\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren let Rimau take the paper, slightly annoyed that the height advantage didn't really allow her to read facial expressions that well. She couldn't tell exactly how sarcastic that 'Alrighty then' was, and it made her vaguely uncomfortable. "Yeah, apparently. Doesn't sound like too much fun, but at least that narrows down where they could be. Not too much of a chase." Hopefully. She wasn't familiar with the mountains, and definitely not familiar with any hidden nooks and crannies someone could use to run out of there quickly. She crackled her knuckles absentmindedly as she thought of a plan of what to do. Just trap them in the mountains and kill the poor bastards sounded like the best idea. "Yeah, quite true, but I'm sure it won't be too much trouble. If we're lucky, all we have to do is trap them up there, a few quick slashes and shots, and done. We get the reward money, plus whatever those assholes have on them at the time." That would probably get them a bit more money, whatever those bandits have stashed away in that mountain. Hell, maybe more that they'd get from completing the damn mission. "Transportation? Uhm, I usually just walk," she said, having decided long ago that purchasing a horse was a waste of money and time, "but I suppose we could find something on the way there, yeah?" Hitch hiking was a terrible idea, but if, say, a few horses and a cart went missing in town, surely no one would notice, right? Well, either that, it they would get noticed and repeatedly shot to death. Neither sounded great, thinking about it. Mysaren chuckled at his joke, grinning. "Heh, it was good! Not many people joke about the entire necromancy thing, y'know. It's... refreshing." Most people just ran for the hills screaming or called her some kinda evil monster when they learned about the necromancy thing. It wasn't the most desirable forms of magic, but it was useful, especially in her line of work.</s>
<\|description\|>Mysaren Race: Bean Nighe Gender: Female Age: 22 Occupation: Unemployed, robs graves for a living. Personality/Interests On the surface, she seems like a very easy person to talk to, someone who you can trust, someone who knows a lot about the world. On the inside, though, Mysaren just desperately wants to be accepted by people. One of her biggest fears is people not liking her. Mysaren can be seen as somewhat manipulative, lying and cheating to people often to get her way, although this is something that she is trying to fix. She's definitely not above dirty tricks in order to get what she wants, or sometimes needs. She's very good at feigning confidence, which is how she does her "job", by either brute force or pretending that she's supposed to be in area's that she's not supposed to go. Despite this, she's definitely loyal to those she cares about, and definitely tries to help her friends in family in any way she can. Mysaren is somewhat hot-headed, and has a very quick temper. On the inside, she's a very sensitive person, though. She takes a lot of things literally, and doesn't really appreciate jokes or teasing at all. She cares immensely about her family at home, and her greatest fear is something bad happening to them. Her entire life has been spent trying to support them the best she can, even stealing and cheating in order to get money. She's often very cheap, not liking to spend money frivolously, even if she has money. She has a bit of a mistrust for anyone with large amounts of money as well. Appearance Mysaren is a rather tall women, having the look of a warrior. She's muscular, with a chiseled, prominent jaw and square face. She has short, curly black hair, which barely goes past her ears, although her bangs cover her eyes if not pulled back. She has dark brown skin, which is marred with various scars. Her eyes are deep-set, and blue eyes that look like the deep end of the pool. Freckles cover a large amount of her face, and are lightly sprinkled on her shoulders. Details Body build: Muscular, well built. Hair: Short, curly. Hair color: Black. Skin color: Dark brown. Eye/Iris color: Dark blue. Height/Weight: 6'3, 185. Notable Features: Freckles, her arms and legs are somewhat covered in scars. Clothing Description She tends to wear long, dark purple robes with a gold trim around the edges, and a hood. Underneath, she wears a black tunic, a normal pair of pants which are brown, and a belt, which is covered in various small pockets and bags. She carries a larger, messenger bag that's made of black leather and has several runes carved into it. She also wears thick, black leather gloves, and rather strong, worn boots, made for travelling. Equipment A spell book and several other books, a few healing and mana potions, various materials for her spell work, a shovel, a lantern, and a bottle of oil. Weapon(s) Her wand, a knife, and a small sword. Powers Due to her years spent living in the darkness, she has a heightened sense of sight. Abilities She is able to tell when someone is about to die, although she can't get specifics on who/why/how. It's usually just a loud, wordless muttering in the back of her mind. Talents Hand to hand combat. Petty thievery Her persuasive power. Magic Deals primarily in Necromancy. Talking with the deceased, being able to call upon them in times of battle. Sessamaru - "He seems level-headed, but I am envious of his rather joyous personality." Historia - "A naive little bird. I do hope she at least knows enough to stay out of trouble." Saha - "Never much liked snakes." Katelia - "An annoyance." Julio - "He knows how to keep his mouth shut. I can respect that." Azzrix - "Pompous ass. I can't help but respect his ability to kill rich people though. Keeps me in business." Margaret - "I don't much respect greediness, but she's at least a good companion otherwise." Naida - "Rather nice. Pretty cute as well." Drubbins - "An idiot. Lovable, but an idiot." Tahira - "One of them brainy types, and not so good with people. Kinda painful to talk with her." Rimau - "He has a very similar sense of humor as me, and he's pretty friendly. I like him a lot." Claire - "Rather shy, but not bad to talk to. Could be a good friend." Viggo - "I can't stand him or his music." Rouen - "Some pretty rich boy who thinks he knows how the world works because he's lived in a nice castle all his life." Falen - "I respect him a lot. He kinda scares me sometimes though..."</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Dogs like me." Said Drubbins happily at the snake bloke. He had no idea what Da Boss would want a dog returned to someone, but that was normal. Da Boss asks you to punch down a building you don't ask what's inside. Da Boss wants every slime in the area gathered up and shoved behind the same door, you don't ask why. Da Boss asks you to chop off your hand and let your blood spill into the stone circle, you ask "how much blood would ya like, Boss?" He was also happy to have someone to come with him. Most Bosses didn't trust Drubbins to handle anything more complex than krumping a bloke on his own, and most of them at least sent someone to make sure he'd Krumped the right bloke. He thumped his chest, threw the rest of the pancakes directly into his mouth, and garbled "You point me at dat Peanut and dat 'ouse and I'll do da rest."</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren "Oh, I understand. Uhm, you can borrow my cloak if you want, you know. I don't mind." Even if Rimau was tough, Mysaren didn't want to have to deal with a pissy Zizz all the way up some mountains. She could live without the cloak, being pretty used to the cold. Her cloak was mostly just to disguise herself, make her blend in a bit, but it also helped with self esteem issues. She scratched her arm idly. "I'm not a huge fan of mountains either, of course, but, well, hopefully the reward makes up for it," Maybe she could actually buy some form of transportation, a horse or a cart or something with the prize money. "Besides, a bunch of idiots who decided to hide up in the mountains shouldn't take us that long to dispatch, of course. We'll be out of there in no time." She didn't exactly know that, of course, but bandits and robbers weren't generally the smartest of people, especially if they left enough evidence for them to know where they were hiding, even if it was just a vague area. Mysaren followed Rimau to the door, and frowned when she poked her head out, and turned back in. Inside the tavern looked bright and well lit, sun streaming through the windows, but outside was overcast and dreary. She coughed as she poked her head out, and looked at the mountains Rimau was pointing at. "Yes, that should be it. Hm, doesn't seem too too far away. Even then, there has to be some form of trail up there if the robbers were able to get up there so fast. Hopefully it won't be that hard to find where they're hiding."</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Outside the Blue Moon Naida does not care of Azzrix comes along, but she does care about her share of the reward. Consider that he is a thief, he might wind up cheating them out of their share. But as Sessamaru says that he can come along, she has no argument against it. She begins walking again, looking down at the job. "So it says that the daughter is being held on the island out in the river by the Blue Moon. I know what river they speak of in this job, but I do not know which island. There are three islands on the river." She furrows her brown and looks at Sessamaru. "It doesn't matter anyways if neither of you can swim fast enough to keep up with me. Would either of you like for me to scout ahead see if I can find out which of the islands this poor girl is on?" As she is speaking, she hears the rush of the river and she can't help herself. She rushes toward the sound and stands at the very edge of a cliff that overhangs the water. She stares down at the water, a little bit of fear crossing over her mind. The last time that she had set foot in the water was three years ago, which was the last time that she had seen her father. As soon as she would set foot in the water, he would know that she had come back. But when she doesn't know is if he will come searching for her. She takes a deep breath and smiles back at Sess and the new fellow. That is a risk that she will have to take. She sucks in a little more air and steps off the cliff. There is no point in flapping her wings; the best way to have fun at getting turned into her mermaid form is just to drop into it. The icy cold water splashes up around her and she shivers slightly, but the change is imminent. She feels her legs meld together into one form and her wings shoot down her spine to her legs, enveloping her legs in a bluish silvery glow. Before long, she has a long, bluish silver tail flipping around underneath her. She smiles, unable to contain her joy, and she swims as fast as she can toward the surface, which is well a top of her now. She leaps out of the water like a dolphin, giving an excited whoop as she does. She then lands back in the water and floats on top of the surface, smiling up at Sess and Azzrix. "Come on, you guys! The water is amazing!"</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Well, if we're goin' by the assumption that these dumbasses came from town..." Rimau said, choosing to politely ignore the topic of mountains any further before it became distracting. "...They prob'ly used this road right 'ere." Rimau stepped outside, into the purely natural, gritty air of the outdoors, and 'sweeped' his pointed hand along the road towards the mountains. "...I mean, sure, they mighta been the show-off type an' scaled some walls, but roads tend to be the only viable way up mountains. F'good reason." Rimau proceeded to take a few strides down the cobbled road, in the direction of the mountain gate, and turned back to Mysaren, who he assumed was still inside. "...Unless y'got any other plans, I suggest we get goin'. Uh, no pressure, though. Those dumbasses are prob'ly makin' a mess o' their britches just thinkin' about retribution right now, heheh." With that, Rimau grabbed the sides of his goggles and slid them over his eyes; the sign that he was now in 'work' mode. Which reminded him; 'must remember to take that medicine when we get there. Last thing I need is a repeat o' the last Plat'num troll hunt... geez, maybe I'm gettin' too old f'this. ...Naaaah.' He finalised that line of thought with another devilish grin.</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was glad that the dog-like man was fine with him going with them on their mission and for once it seemed like he didn't have to use a lot of excellent persuasion skills to come along. He now thought of what was to come, if it was a kidnapping that they were dealing with then there was a good chance for combat, which made Azzrix smile a bit as he thought of getting a chance to show off his great swordsmanship. Azzrix listened to Naida explain the layout of the land and upon hearing that they would have to swim to the island he groaned. Azzrix knew how to swim, but he didn't like having to get his thief clothing wet and who knew how deep the river. He didn't voice any objection and after Naida asked she could scout ahead he watched her jump into the water and looked to be having the time of her life. Under different certumstances Azzrix would have laughed, but right now he was being very serious. "Is the water very deep and how far are the islands? I don't fancy drowning today" he replied to her, hesitant to jump into the water.</s> <\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era "You're a good right bloke, aren't 'cha?" Saha said in a saccharine tone, like she had found small animals responded better to a higher pitched, pleasant sound. "You'll make the Boss very happy when you've completed the mission. You'll split the rewards with me, yes?" She had to make sure the ogre knew what the deal was, for Bernard, the Priest or the couple might not care who got the reward as long as it was given out. Saha was in no mood to fight with the dumb Big Guy over some monies. She took the wrapped up steak and headed out of the Tavern. The sky had darkened considerably. The town wasn't faraway, its rows of short buildings and chimney smoke could be seen from a distance, and without a need to hurry too much, Saha strolled down the path with an appreciation for the humidity. When her partner had caught up to her, she said, "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. I am Saha of the Era tribe. What's your story, Big Guy?"</s>	<\|message\|>Mysaren "Hm, hopefully they did. Otherwise this is going to be a bit tricky." Mysaren said, still eyeing the mountains. This wasn't going to be fun at all, and she sighed deeply before digging in her bags to check her supplies. Nothing much right now, but enough for the journey. Mysaren followed, looking at the road that Rimau was looking at, coughing at the quality of the air. "Yeah, this should be it. So we just... follow this road and hope for the best then?" "Well, if they were carrying a solid gold mask, I'm assuming that they weren't going to be doing much climbing. Let's just follow the road, it'll be easier for us." Mysaren followed Rimau's strides, looking around the town. "Nah, leaving right now sounds pretty good. Haha, yeah. They won't even know what hit them." In fact, the mountains were probably the scariest part of this mission. Other than that, she had no real worries about getting the mask. She could do more than necromancy, and she liked to think that her scars and muscles proved that pretty well. She could handle herself, and she was sure that Rimau could handle himself too. Following Rimau, she flipped up her hood, her face now barely visible, the only part of her that could be seen out of the hood was a few wild bits of hair that she could never really tame. Intimidation was also a pretty good tactic, she learned long ago, and a strange, tall figure wearing robes definitely was intimidating to most folks, at least any with any brains.</s>
<\|description\|>Mysaren Race: Bean Nighe Gender: Female Age: 22 Occupation: Unemployed, robs graves for a living. Personality/Interests On the surface, she seems like a very easy person to talk to, someone who you can trust, someone who knows a lot about the world. On the inside, though, Mysaren just desperately wants to be accepted by people. One of her biggest fears is people not liking her. Mysaren can be seen as somewhat manipulative, lying and cheating to people often to get her way, although this is something that she is trying to fix. She's definitely not above dirty tricks in order to get what she wants, or sometimes needs. She's very good at feigning confidence, which is how she does her "job", by either brute force or pretending that she's supposed to be in area's that she's not supposed to go. Despite this, she's definitely loyal to those she cares about, and definitely tries to help her friends in family in any way she can. Mysaren is somewhat hot-headed, and has a very quick temper. On the inside, she's a very sensitive person, though. She takes a lot of things literally, and doesn't really appreciate jokes or teasing at all. She cares immensely about her family at home, and her greatest fear is something bad happening to them. Her entire life has been spent trying to support them the best she can, even stealing and cheating in order to get money. She's often very cheap, not liking to spend money frivolously, even if she has money. She has a bit of a mistrust for anyone with large amounts of money as well. Appearance Mysaren is a rather tall women, having the look of a warrior. She's muscular, with a chiseled, prominent jaw and square face. She has short, curly black hair, which barely goes past her ears, although her bangs cover her eyes if not pulled back. She has dark brown skin, which is marred with various scars. Her eyes are deep-set, and blue eyes that look like the deep end of the pool. Freckles cover a large amount of her face, and are lightly sprinkled on her shoulders. Details Body build: Muscular, well built. Hair: Short, curly. Hair color: Black. Skin color: Dark brown. Eye/Iris color: Dark blue. Height/Weight: 6'3, 185. Notable Features: Freckles, her arms and legs are somewhat covered in scars. Clothing Description She tends to wear long, dark purple robes with a gold trim around the edges, and a hood. Underneath, she wears a black tunic, a normal pair of pants which are brown, and a belt, which is covered in various small pockets and bags. She carries a larger, messenger bag that's made of black leather and has several runes carved into it. She also wears thick, black leather gloves, and rather strong, worn boots, made for travelling. Equipment A spell book and several other books, a few healing and mana potions, various materials for her spell work, a shovel, a lantern, and a bottle of oil. Weapon(s) Her wand, a knife, and a small sword. Powers Due to her years spent living in the darkness, she has a heightened sense of sight. Abilities She is able to tell when someone is about to die, although she can't get specifics on who/why/how. It's usually just a loud, wordless muttering in the back of her mind. Talents Hand to hand combat. Petty thievery Her persuasive power. Magic Deals primarily in Necromancy. Talking with the deceased, being able to call upon them in times of battle. Sessamaru - "He seems level-headed, but I am envious of his rather joyous personality." Historia - "A naive little bird. I do hope she at least knows enough to stay out of trouble." Saha - "Never much liked snakes." Katelia - "An annoyance." Julio - "He knows how to keep his mouth shut. I can respect that." Azzrix - "Pompous ass. I can't help but respect his ability to kill rich people though. Keeps me in business." Margaret - "I don't much respect greediness, but she's at least a good companion otherwise." Naida - "Rather nice. Pretty cute as well." Drubbins - "An idiot. Lovable, but an idiot." Tahira - "One of them brainy types, and not so good with people. Kinda painful to talk with her." Rimau - "He has a very similar sense of humor as me, and he's pretty friendly. I like him a lot." Claire - "Rather shy, but not bad to talk to. Could be a good friend." Viggo - "I can't stand him or his music." Rouen - "Some pretty rich boy who thinks he knows how the world works because he's lived in a nice castle all his life." Falen - "I respect him a lot. He kinda scares me sometimes though..."</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren "Yeah, of course. I've had people hunting me since I was a teenager, when I started practicing necromancy in the first place. Lots of small, god fearing towns who burns anyone who even looks like they practice magic at the stake. Necromancy is basically a target on your back, but necromancy is important, you know." Mysaren said, looking everywhere but at Rimau, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. Damn, it was going to be a pretty long walk to those mountains. Thank god she kept in shape. Mysaren knew she was probably suspicious, the random girl who walked into town, who was a necromancer and hanged around graveyards too much, and she tried to get that suspicion down as much as possible. "It's funny, that people think that magic is inherently evil. It's not. There's good magic users and there's bad magic users, just like there's good people that swing a sword and bad people that swing a sword." She wondered what category she would fit in. "I dunno. Magic seems pretty dangerous sometimes, it just depends on the person. Besides, most magic users are all for show. Make a little flame and you have people treating you like a god. That's why I chose necromancy, you know. It's one of the more honest types of magic. Not about manipulating people or catching things on fire, it's about life and death, and I guess there's nothing more honest than that." Mysaren looked behind her, the town gone now, the only thing left was the cover of trees and the smell of the forest. She took a deep breath, sighing. Forests were nice, nice and quiet. She could at least rest easy before having to go up to the mountains. At that point, her head would almost constantly be screaming at her, the constant sound of death near her. It would probably be a blood bath.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "That's true." Rimau said, acknowledging Mysaren's affirmation of the world's grey morality scales. "'Course, where I come from, they didn't think o' magic in moral terms. More in... ethical terms, if y'know what I mean." Rimau scratched the back of his head as he stopped briefly to observe a small fork in the road. He had to lift one of his goggle lenses off his eye for a moment since the mountains were obscured by thick forestation. As he was doing this, he idly asked "B'what makes y'think Necromancy is real important an' 'onest compared t'all the other magicist disciplines?" The old Zizz paused for a moment, when it dawned on him that the lady might take the question the wrong way, thus forcing a verbal cut-and-paste before professional discipline broke down. He's seen it happen before. More than a person should, if professional organisation in general is to be trusted. "...Just out o' curiousity, y'understand. Believe me, I'm in no position t'be judgin' folks." Listening to whatever Mysaren had to say about this, he eventually turned left, placing his lenses back on his properly, and continued down the path. But it wasn't long before he idly sniffed the air with his tongue, and could sense that familiar stench of death again. Except this time it was coming from in front of him, so it couldn't have been Mysaren. He stopped and held his hand up. "...D'you smell that, kid? ...There's a body 'round 'ere somewhere." He paused and sniffed again, turning his head towards what looked like a ditch just beyond a lining of trees.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren "I understand. Still the same concept, though." Mysaren said, glad that Rimau agreed with her. She was always afraid of finding someone who didn't agree with magic, and she'd end up dead in a ditch somewhere. "Necromancy, well, it's not just about raising people from the dead you know. It's about harnessing death, harnessing people's energy, speaking with the dead, even. It's death, and death is important, Rimau, as important as anything else, because death isn't the end, it's a new beginning! Death is just shedding your old skin and moving on to a higher plane, to explore new places and go on more adventures." Mysaren perhaps was a bit too passionate about death. "Oh, I know, it's alright. " She said, stopping when he held his hand up. Mysaren sniffed as well, the familiar smell of corpses filling her nose. She sighed. "Yes, I do." She said, turning towards the ditch as well. Mysaren walked towards where Rimau was looking, to pull back a few branches and see the body that was in the ditch. "Recently dead, judging by the sword wound in his stomach it wasn't natural causes. " She stepped towards the body, kneeling down and looking it over. "Rimau, come here. I want to try something."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "...Poor bastard." Rimau said, following after Mysaren to marvel at the dead fellow. Just goes to show desensitised both of them were to death. Most people would probably keel over and eject last week's breakfast onto the grass. "Does that look like a robber to... hmm?" Rimau was about to ask the sort of questions that might be asked by the hypothetical 'crime scene investigation' people he dreamed up earlier, but that was overwritten with intrigue once Mysaren offered to show him something. Probably something involving the corpse. "Well, y'do whatever it is, an' I ain't gonna ask questions. Yer the dead people expert after all, heh."</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren nodded. "Died pretty violent, it looks like. " She said, inspecting the body more, her gloved hands playing over the bag on the ground. She flipped it open and frowned. "Looted." "Does look an awful lot like a robber. Let me try this." She pulled a bundle of herbs from her pack, and lit a match to set the herbs on fire. She waved the herbs over the body, lowly chanting in strange language. With that, the body beneath them opened it's eyes, and it's head turned towards Mysaren. "Who are you?" It asked. "How did you die?" Mysaren said, straight to the point. She kept waving the herbs over the body, and she didn't have much time. She needed the information fast. "Tried to steal some mask from my buddies. They stabbed me in the bloody stomach!" The corpse said, the voice sounding distant and strange. Mysaren nodded. "Where are your buddies now? I can get revenge on them for you." Revenge was usually what motivated most ghosts. The corpse was silent, before it spoke again. "Up in them mountains. There's a weird, pointy rock, looks like pyramid shape, yeah? That marks where they are. Can you kill the bastards for me?" Mysaren grinned. "Of course." With that, she blew out the herbs, and the corpse went still again, it's eyes closing.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau looked on with bewilderment as he saw Mysaren do... whatever it was she was doing. The sight of a corpse talking was... it was the sort of thing he'd seen in nightmares. He'd never in a million years suspected he'd actually see it happen, even with the hundreds and hundreds of other weird things he'd seen throughout his life. Perhaps it was symbolic. Then again, he couldn't help but snicker to himself when the ex-alive person said he was stabbed in the 'bloody stomach'. It certainly was a bloody stomach. "...Huh." He finally 'said' once the dead kid returned to his natural state. "...Well, promise is a promise, I ain't askin' questions... much as I'd like to." He mumbled the last part under his breath. Maybe he'd ask questions later. Like what would happen if he smoked those herbs. "So 'e say's 'ere's a Pyramid rock in front o' the cave, eh?" Rimau finally got back on task, turning away from the body to get set on the road again. "...Why'd I get the feelin' I heard o' that before..."</s>	<\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren stood and threw the burnt bundle of herbs into a nearby bush, looking over at Rimau. "Uhm, sorry, probably should've warned you about that," She said, dusting off her robes and climbing out of the ditch to look back down the path. "and you can ask as many questions as you want, I don't particularly care. Questions are perfectly fine." Mysaren didn't blame him if he wanted to ask questions, considering she didn't exactly warn him about what she was going to do with the corpse. She looked into her bag. She still had a few bundles of those herbs if she needed to talk to any more dead, good. "Yeah, pyramid rock. That at least makes the place a bit easier to find, yeah?" She said, chewing on her lip as she waited for Rimau to lead the way to the mountains. She didn't really like leading anyways. She looked back down at the body as she waited. There was always a chance of the corpse doing something... weird after she talked to it, but it seemed to be perfectly fine. Well, as fine as a dead thing could be.</s>
<\|description\|>Historia Saurvale Race: Aviator (human with wings that isn't an angel) Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: odd jobs doer, sometimes messenger and sometimes courier Personality: Historia is a rather laid back person. She is also a little naive, not quite knowing how the world works yet. She's kind of quiet, not because she's shy but because she's trying to take things in and learn. She will often address people, no matter how they look or act, very formally until she gets to know them. Interests: Shes interested in seeing parts of the world, but for now the area's around the Blue Moon Tavern will suffice. Appearance Details Body build: Small and lanky. Hair: to her shoulders but usually kept up Hair color: a soft brown Skin color: slightly tan Eye/Iris color: dark brown (usually hid behind a pair of goggles) Height: 5'2" Weight: 125 pounds Notable Features: Her two wings (her left black and her right brown) and her goggles. Clothing Description Well fitting shirts and pants that she can easily fly in. Equipment Cloth and light leather armor that offers some protection without being too heavy to fly in. Weapon(s) A foldable bow she usually keeps in a pack on her belt and a quiver that's also attached to her belt and it has a lid over it when she doesn't need any arrows. Powers She's an extremely fast flier and is very good at maneuvering in the sky and near the ground. Abilities Flight and flexibility. Talents Is decent with a bow. She can't out shoot the best of them, but could survive with it if you left her out in the wild with it. She also can read and write and is pretty good with puzzles and riddles. Magic None. Trivia She has poor eyesight, which is why she always has on the goggles as they were specifically built to be like glasses. She also doesn't drink alcohol. Sessamaru : "Well he seems nice and calm...reminds me a bit of how my grandfather was. I wouldn't mind getting to know him better." Saha Thulaja Era : "...I'm not going to lie, she looks a little intimidating. But looks alone doesn't make a person so I'll see how she is in time." Katelia : "Shes rowdy yes, but well..." Historia rubs her right arm, "She's stronger willed than I, I think." Julio : "I am very conflicted." Azzrix Grimmor : "Has amazing stories and likes to talk about himself a good deal. I'll certainly learn a lot about him...and other things, if I hang out around him a lot." Margaret von Eisenberg :"I don't quite agree with how she gets money sometimes, but overall she doesn't seem that bad..." Naida Marcoon :"Miss Naida is very nice, even to some of the ruder customers. I admire her for that." Drubbins :"Mr. Drubbins seems nice enough while on his own. I think he just needs some guidance to make sure it stays that way. I would hate to see someone that puts their loyalty so quickly into others, be lead by someone with bad intentions." Mysaren : "I could see getting along with her as she doesn't seem like the bad sort. She definitely could teach me how to save money better." Tahira Raske Madame Raske is very knowledgeable, and she reminds me of one of my favorite teachers back home. I hope she can teach me a few things as well." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku : "Mr. Rimau reminds me of quite a few of the elders back home, with the way he tells stories and jokes...but sometimes his version of humor doesn't go along with mine..." Claire Alexandria :"I don't really understand Claire, or rather why someone so nice and gentle looking would want to take up a sword, but she's very well trained with it and she must have her reasons. She seems rather...isloated, so I hope she manages to find someone to be close with. Perhaps I could be a friend to her?" Viggo Malmsteen: "I like music as much as the next person, and if all I had to listen to was Mr. Malmsteen's music, I think that would be fine. He puts a lot of himself into the music and it shows. I can admire such dedication...as it might be the only thing I can find at the moment to admire about the man." Rouen Fulgur: "Sir Fulgur is someone I can respect." Felan the Wolf: "He has a feel of being wiser than his age. He certainly understands nature much better than some of us ever will."</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was slightly disappointed that Kat hadn't taken the mug he had offered, but she did already have one. He then heard the orge's response and even though he kept a straight face Azzrix had a vein bulging on his head. How dare this creature make his offer of help a game, if he wasn't of noble birth then he would have taken this beast's head. Even though his mind was thinking violent thoughts Azzrix still smiled at the inferior creature before him. "You're a funny one ogre, what is your name, you do have a name right?" he asked with a smile still imagining throwing a knife at him. He took sips of his mead and felt his anger calm down for a bit. He was waiting to see what kind of mission he could take to earn some money and also see if there would be a chance for him to steal from a challenging wealthy person, maybe he would also get an assassination mission. God only knows when he would get a chance to practice his assassin skills on a mission and he wondered how well the others would do on such missions. Azzrix was more interested in working with magic users, muscle was good, but he had plenty of that and anymore stealthy people would mean that he would lose the franchise, he had enough stealth. Magic on other hand he had none of and so getting a good magic user to work with him would open up a whole world of possibility and fencing magical artifacts would get him a really great amount of gold, he's heard stories about some magic guilds being loaded thanks some of them being able to make gold with their magic. Azzrix especially would love to get his hands on the alchemy formula to create gold if it existed, an infinite amount of gold would be very useful for expanding his family's influence and ambitions of his own.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Dat'd be Drubbins." The Ogre announced proudly. "Dats da name..." He quiets down, thinking back. Drubbins didn't have the best memory in the world. He remembered general things, but who's and where's and when's generally leaked out of his head between bosses. He didn't consider this a bad thing, it cleared space for all the new people he'd be putting in his head, but even he wouldn't forget a life changing encounter. "Dats da name I was givin' by Malia Burg, da Source-ress, on account a my big 'ands and what I could do wif 'em."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire listened intently to Historia as she answered her question, nodding slightly here and there. As soon as her...friend, here got her food, Claire worked up the courage to try her own. Clearly far behind Mysaren, she took a few dainty bites of her meal. Honestly she was quite hungry, but she never knew eating any other way. "It certainly is..." Claire stopped to look around the place, choosing a word for the tavern. "Warm." She finished. She regarded the large ogre, now enjoying a drink with the stoic barhand and ratman. Next was the white haired boy with animal ears. He was the source of the magic earlier...The cheery blue, working as she wanted, and another new face. A reptilian man smoking to himself at another seat..."and interesting." She continued before going back to eating. Her food was warm and quite good, not what she was used to, but she was enjoying it so far. As she ate she on and off watched her two companions. They were quite different people, but they didn't seem bad. "Thank you." She added softly, avoiding eye contact. She didn't know what exactly she was thanking them for, but it seemed right.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) The tavern was certainly getting lively. People were bustling this way and that, mingling with each other, and Kat was just about done with all this for the day. Entertaining characters aside, she was tired. Hunting in the forest all night tended to be a draining experience. Kat knew, tired as she was, any reservations she had about making smartass comments would be all but gone. And Hel could only hold her back so much. "Well," she said with an exaggerated sigh, patting Hel on his great furry head to signal it was time. "This has been a pleasure, my lord," she said to Azzrix, "but I really must be going." Hel got up so Kat could stand. It was time for a nice nap in the forest. She had a permanent room at the tavern, but if the magical mishap had been any indication for the day, it would be too rowdy here to get any rest. On their way out as they weaved through the crowd, Kat saw some people that made her reconsider. The Zizz was out and about, which usually meant a fun time. And Felan had just entered in his quiet way. He wasn't as lively, but Hel was fond enough of him. Kat just gave them both quick nods as she left. When they finally got outside, Hel almost immediately shoved her back through the door. A frantic horse, wild and riderless was thundering towards them. The snow leopard jumped in front of her, baring his fangs and hissing at the mare. The horse slid to a stop, tearing up her front legs with a screech. And then she was turning, dashing away from the two of them. Lowering his hackles, Hel relaxed his stance, while Kat just looked after the horse, eyebrow raised. It was then that she saw the horse's rider, flat on the ground. Glancing at Hel, she walked around her companion to squat next to the man. "Trouble with your horse?" she said slyly, A smirk making its way onto her face. Hel plodded up beside her and nudged him a bit with his nose, sniffing.</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske Although she didn't quite agree, Tahira smiled at the comment about Viggo's music as she sat down in the chair Margaret had offered her. The charm that the witch was referring to intrigued her, as their magic both strayed along a similar path, so she pulled back her hood far enough to expose her amber eyes so that she could see it in detail. Her senses were still upset from the earlier shock, but she could still identify the trinket's energy. She was capable of making her own enchantments, but she preferred keeping them temporary, which meant she wasn't arrayed in enchanted items unless she was going out on one of the few missions that caught her attention. In three months, she had only found a handful of jobs that interested her. Realizing she had been silent for a second longer than was comfortable, Tahira looked up from the charm. "How long have you practiced the arts?" she asked, hesitant at the personal question. However, magic users were so dynamic in skill and knowledge it was natural for her to be curious.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Viggo concludes his ballad and scowls for a minute at the denizens of the tavern, glancing down to find his pail of coins just as full as it had been when he began playing. He grumbles something to himself as he slings his guitar around his back, hopping off the stage and sauntering over to the bar to grab a drink, knowing that for his next song, he'd need his voice to be "well oiled". Putting down a small tower of coins harvested from his donation pail, the bard glances towards Bernard and puts on a guise of friendliness. "Bernard, you stoic son of a bitch, how about a couple of beers" he chimes with a handsome, albeit toothy grin. Assuming he gets his due alcohol, having paid the price in silver, Viggo would return to the stage, sitting down cross legged as he ploughs through the two drinks, abolishing the first in half a minute before swiftly moving onto the next. Once sufficiently drowsed by the beer, Viggo stands once more, kicking the stool backwards and out of the way. Drawing his guitar from his back once more, he adopts a wide-legged stance before he begins to pluck once more at the strings of instrument. The new song begins much like the one before, though after a few seconds the noise of his guitar shifts to become much more metallic and offensive to some ears. The powerful riffs ring out from the instrument with an energetic wave, inspiring courage and vigour in all that listen, unless of course your will is powerful enough to resist Viggo's musical charms. As the song finds its pace, Viggo begins to rock his head up and down with thumping rhythm, causing his hair to flow in time with his movements.</s>	<\|message\|>Historia Saurvale "You're welcome." Historia told Miss Claire with a smile, though she wasn't quite sure what she was thanking her for? For answering her question was the most likely reason Historia could come up with. As Historia started to eat though, she noticed that Miss Mysaren seemed...well hungry for one thing. She was glad that Miss Mysaren was able to get a meal. But she also seemed, nervous? Scared? A bit of both? Well, that whole commotion with the energy, getting hit with Historia's wings, among the many other exciting things that had happened were probably the cause of it. Historia decided that she had to do something to take her mind off of that. "Um..." Historia said between bites. "My last name is Saurvale. I'm from the floating islands of Anemoi."She paused, taking another bite and trying to figure out what else to say. "I'm currently saving up money to start traveling again. I kind of ran out when I got to this city. In fact, the first day I arrived, I got pickpocketed, which is always wonderful to find out." Historia said with sarcasm before coughing some with the smoke. She waved her hand in front of her face to clear some of the smoke away before continuing. "I found myself in this Tavern, hoping to buy some food. Thankfully, even though I didn't have money, someone was kind enough to pay for my meal. I hope to find the kind patron and pay them back before I leave, though I don't know when that'll be." Historia finished with a smile before shifting her attention to the stage. "The bard is certainly getting more energetic with his tunes isn't he?" She added after a few moments of listening to the song.</s>
<\|description\|>Historia Saurvale Race: Aviator (human with wings that isn't an angel) Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: odd jobs doer, sometimes messenger and sometimes courier Personality: Historia is a rather laid back person. She is also a little naive, not quite knowing how the world works yet. She's kind of quiet, not because she's shy but because she's trying to take things in and learn. She will often address people, no matter how they look or act, very formally until she gets to know them. Interests: Shes interested in seeing parts of the world, but for now the area's around the Blue Moon Tavern will suffice. Appearance Details Body build: Small and lanky. Hair: to her shoulders but usually kept up Hair color: a soft brown Skin color: slightly tan Eye/Iris color: dark brown (usually hid behind a pair of goggles) Height: 5'2" Weight: 125 pounds Notable Features: Her two wings (her left black and her right brown) and her goggles. Clothing Description Well fitting shirts and pants that she can easily fly in. Equipment Cloth and light leather armor that offers some protection without being too heavy to fly in. Weapon(s) A foldable bow she usually keeps in a pack on her belt and a quiver that's also attached to her belt and it has a lid over it when she doesn't need any arrows. Powers She's an extremely fast flier and is very good at maneuvering in the sky and near the ground. Abilities Flight and flexibility. Talents Is decent with a bow. She can't out shoot the best of them, but could survive with it if you left her out in the wild with it. She also can read and write and is pretty good with puzzles and riddles. Magic None. Trivia She has poor eyesight, which is why she always has on the goggles as they were specifically built to be like glasses. She also doesn't drink alcohol. Sessamaru : "Well he seems nice and calm...reminds me a bit of how my grandfather was. I wouldn't mind getting to know him better." Saha Thulaja Era : "...I'm not going to lie, she looks a little intimidating. But looks alone doesn't make a person so I'll see how she is in time." Katelia : "Shes rowdy yes, but well..." Historia rubs her right arm, "She's stronger willed than I, I think." Julio : "I am very conflicted." Azzrix Grimmor : "Has amazing stories and likes to talk about himself a good deal. I'll certainly learn a lot about him...and other things, if I hang out around him a lot." Margaret von Eisenberg :"I don't quite agree with how she gets money sometimes, but overall she doesn't seem that bad..." Naida Marcoon :"Miss Naida is very nice, even to some of the ruder customers. I admire her for that." Drubbins :"Mr. Drubbins seems nice enough while on his own. I think he just needs some guidance to make sure it stays that way. I would hate to see someone that puts their loyalty so quickly into others, be lead by someone with bad intentions." Mysaren : "I could see getting along with her as she doesn't seem like the bad sort. She definitely could teach me how to save money better." Tahira Raske Madame Raske is very knowledgeable, and she reminds me of one of my favorite teachers back home. I hope she can teach me a few things as well." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku : "Mr. Rimau reminds me of quite a few of the elders back home, with the way he tells stories and jokes...but sometimes his version of humor doesn't go along with mine..." Claire Alexandria :"I don't really understand Claire, or rather why someone so nice and gentle looking would want to take up a sword, but she's very well trained with it and she must have her reasons. She seems rather...isloated, so I hope she manages to find someone to be close with. Perhaps I could be a friend to her?" Viggo Malmsteen: "I like music as much as the next person, and if all I had to listen to was Mr. Malmsteen's music, I think that would be fine. He puts a lot of himself into the music and it shows. I can admire such dedication...as it might be the only thing I can find at the moment to admire about the man." Rouen Fulgur: "Sir Fulgur is someone I can respect." Felan the Wolf: "He has a feel of being wiser than his age. He certainly understands nature much better than some of us ever will."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Goddamn, that racket..." the old Zizz mumbled to himself some more as he let the herbal sensation roll around on the inside of his toothy snout. It would appear as though the newfangled magic rays of the man... woman... something-or-other had counteracted the calming essence of his Pipe. To take his mind off it, he eavesdropped on the two ladies conversing next to him. One of them, a winged girl who he vaguely recalled catching a glimpse of for a fraction of a second before, looked a bit strange, but that was, ironically, not very strange to a man like Rimau. The other one he didn't recognise, but he couldn't help but nod to himself as he listened to her talk about the dangers of naivete. Valuable stuff to teach a kid, of which there were too many who weren't taught that. Good news for him, though, was the re-appearance of Miss Naida, possibly the prettiest and most efficient bartender this side of... anywhere, really. The grin came back to him as he removed his Pipe and began to ramble to her. "Well, well, if it ain't my favourite bartender for the past week? Y'know, most bartenders I've seen don't 'ave wings an' can't flit about everywhere in a storm all fancy-like, an' that's pretty crazy 'cause it makes yer job real easy. Like, mint cash for nothin'-level easy. Reminds me o' this guy I saw once who set up his own bean farm, an'... well, it was pretty complicated, like, he had to sign a good mountain o' paperwork to even get 'imself the pen to sign the first of fifty million contracts with, an' there were, like, several thousand clauses designed to extort yer outta yer first-born son's soul... why's it always the first-born son, anyway? I mean, what 'ave all the devils got against the ladies? Hell, for that matter, why's it always virgin sacrifices? I'da thought the more experienced types would'a been considered, 'cause if yer gonna kill someone for some crazy kid in the sky, why bother bein' fussy? As if they 'ad standards all of a sudden? Pfft. That's a big problem we got nowadays, there ain't no professional standards, like that kid over there with his crappy 'music', an' if that were written down, that'd be in inverted commas, 'cause quite frankly, I dunno what he thinks he's achievin' tryin' to brainwash us into givin' him money with his fancy-shmancy magic rays. Look at 'at, backfire! I just got the courage to speak out against the lack o' professional standards in this day an' age! I remember a time an' a place where if you didn't 'ave standards, bullet to the 'ead fer you, hahahaha! Ahhh..." It only then dawned on him that she might not be particularly interested in his rambling, especially after he noticed her mumbling to some other kid, the one with dog ears glued to his skull. He took another puff of his Pipe to clear his head again. It was too early to be making a bad impression. "Sorry 'bout that, y'know I get a lil'... distracted when I ain't workin'. Anyways, lovely miss Naida, I don't s'pose y'could get me m'mornin' glass o' Orange Juice? I don't get these kiddos, I mean, look at 'em! Drinkin' Ale in the mornin'?! What kinda conduct is 'at? I once saw this one lady who drank a keg o' ale one Saturday mornin', an' lemme tell ya... uh... never mind. Y'ad to be there, anyways."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nearly dropped her fork when the music she had mostly ignored took a new turn. She felt a little...different. Restless? Not possible...she just spend a night in an alley, sleep hadn't been good. The same clenching feeling was clasping her chest. Magic? Was it the musician? She gave a searching look for the sound. Through the smoke, the many moving bodies and other obstructions, they barely caught the man thrashing about. Interesting, annoying, angering. A shaky sigh left the small woman. As if to calm her, her winged partner began to speak once more. Sharing pieces of her past and who she was. In turn, the third party of the trio gave her piece. A bit more to the point, a bit less informative. Not so jumpy anymore apparently? "...I'm afraid I have to agree with her Historia dear...Sometimes your past is to be...retained." She thought for a moment. "Though It doesn't seem you have anything to hide, which is quite..." She searched for a word. "Magical..." she decided. Her voice trailed off at that last word. Her tone was, sad, almost, but perhaps more so it seemed to be...longing. Perhaps envious. She tried to give a smile to accompany the word, but it didn't really find it's way out. "Thank you for sharing." She added softly. "Both of you..." She realized she had hardly addressed the other girl. Perhaps she should be making some effort to do so...</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan sat quietly at his table as he waited, looking around at the patrons inside the tavern. There were a few new faces, but most he'd seen before. The girl that stayed here often, her name escaped him, was roaming about with her leopard. Felan was impressed by the creature. He had slightly embarrassed himself upon seeing it for the first time, having assumed it was a fellow skin changer. Obviously, that was not the case. He noticed an ogre was among the people bustling around, and Felan's lip curled slightly. He didn't care much for their kind, having had not-so-good experiences with them in the past. Of course, as long as the creature didn't act up, he wouldn't purposely cross paths with him. Another patron caught his eyes: a younger man casting magic on another customer. Felan watched, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Magic was not his forte. He didn't do it, didn't like it, and typically tried to avoid it. Before long, Naida swung by to take his order. Of course he just wanted his regular; Felan was a man of habit. Soon, it was on a plate in front of him: a juicy cut of meat, cooked very rare, and a glass of ale. His large hands fumbled with the eating utensils as he attempted to cut his food up. When at home, he wouldn't even bother. But in public, Felan made an attempt to appear remotely civilized.</s>	<\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia quietly listened to the advice Miss Mysaren shared with her, noticing that Miss Claire was also in agreement. Historia smiled at the both of them cheerfully. "I don't quite believe I gave that much away." She told them. "Anybody with any knowledge of the Anemoi islands would know that's where I hail from. It's the only place that I know of where you can find my race. My name is my name, I would have to be really in trouble if I was trying to hide it. And for what else I told you, it's what happened a week ago in this very Tavern, and there's not much there to use against me, but I do appreciate the advice. There's not a lot of people here that be so kind to do that." Plus...if they really wanted dirt on Historia...well, her wings were more than enough really to a specific few. She paused a moment, wondering if perhaps anyone was looking for her. She really hadn't thought of it till now... Historia was pulled from her thoughts when Miss Claire said that it didn't seem like Historia had anything to hide and that was magical. "Ah, thank you Miss Claire." Historia told her, smiling even brighter. "But if I'm to refrain from speaking of my past, we should perhaps find something else to talk about...it'll hopefully take my mind off the music that currently playing." She told them with a hint of annoyance. Historia had no problem with the music itself. It was the spell that went with it. Not that Historia had any problems with magic either (though it wasn't till recently that she had even first got exposed to magic in general), but she didn't like for spells to be casted on her without her permission. This spell in particular made her wings twitch, like she should just get up and fly right out of the Tavern and into the wild blue yonder. Which would not have been a good plan as she did not have the funds to leave yet. "So," Historia said, pulling up her googles to rub her eyes, trying to be less annoyed as annoyance could lead to poor judgement. "Is there anything you two would like to discuss?"</s>
<\|description\|>Historia Saurvale Race: Aviator (human with wings that isn't an angel) Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: odd jobs doer, sometimes messenger and sometimes courier Personality: Historia is a rather laid back person. She is also a little naive, not quite knowing how the world works yet. She's kind of quiet, not because she's shy but because she's trying to take things in and learn. She will often address people, no matter how they look or act, very formally until she gets to know them. Interests: Shes interested in seeing parts of the world, but for now the area's around the Blue Moon Tavern will suffice. Appearance Details Body build: Small and lanky. Hair: to her shoulders but usually kept up Hair color: a soft brown Skin color: slightly tan Eye/Iris color: dark brown (usually hid behind a pair of goggles) Height: 5'2" Weight: 125 pounds Notable Features: Her two wings (her left black and her right brown) and her goggles. Clothing Description Well fitting shirts and pants that she can easily fly in. Equipment Cloth and light leather armor that offers some protection without being too heavy to fly in. Weapon(s) A foldable bow she usually keeps in a pack on her belt and a quiver that's also attached to her belt and it has a lid over it when she doesn't need any arrows. Powers She's an extremely fast flier and is very good at maneuvering in the sky and near the ground. Abilities Flight and flexibility. Talents Is decent with a bow. She can't out shoot the best of them, but could survive with it if you left her out in the wild with it. She also can read and write and is pretty good with puzzles and riddles. Magic None. Trivia She has poor eyesight, which is why she always has on the goggles as they were specifically built to be like glasses. She also doesn't drink alcohol. Sessamaru : "Well he seems nice and calm...reminds me a bit of how my grandfather was. I wouldn't mind getting to know him better." Saha Thulaja Era : "...I'm not going to lie, she looks a little intimidating. But looks alone doesn't make a person so I'll see how she is in time." Katelia : "Shes rowdy yes, but well..." Historia rubs her right arm, "She's stronger willed than I, I think." Julio : "I am very conflicted." Azzrix Grimmor : "Has amazing stories and likes to talk about himself a good deal. I'll certainly learn a lot about him...and other things, if I hang out around him a lot." Margaret von Eisenberg :"I don't quite agree with how she gets money sometimes, but overall she doesn't seem that bad..." Naida Marcoon :"Miss Naida is very nice, even to some of the ruder customers. I admire her for that." Drubbins :"Mr. Drubbins seems nice enough while on his own. I think he just needs some guidance to make sure it stays that way. I would hate to see someone that puts their loyalty so quickly into others, be lead by someone with bad intentions." Mysaren : "I could see getting along with her as she doesn't seem like the bad sort. She definitely could teach me how to save money better." Tahira Raske Madame Raske is very knowledgeable, and she reminds me of one of my favorite teachers back home. I hope she can teach me a few things as well." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku : "Mr. Rimau reminds me of quite a few of the elders back home, with the way he tells stories and jokes...but sometimes his version of humor doesn't go along with mine..." Claire Alexandria :"I don't really understand Claire, or rather why someone so nice and gentle looking would want to take up a sword, but she's very well trained with it and she must have her reasons. She seems rather...isloated, so I hope she manages to find someone to be close with. Perhaps I could be a friend to her?" Viggo Malmsteen: "I like music as much as the next person, and if all I had to listen to was Mr. Malmsteen's music, I think that would be fine. He puts a lot of himself into the music and it shows. I can admire such dedication...as it might be the only thing I can find at the moment to admire about the man." Rouen Fulgur: "Sir Fulgur is someone I can respect." Felan the Wolf: "He has a feel of being wiser than his age. He certainly understands nature much better than some of us ever will."</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor The ogre's broken language made it hard for Azzrix to understand, but he still managed thanks to great linguistic skills and he found the being to be intellectually boring. Azzrix gave a smile when Kat refered to him as 'my lord' it made him feel so powerful. "Have joyous day my lady" he said with a polite bow. He ordered himself another mug of mead and began to drink in the hopes feeling more joyous at the success of his thieving business. He heard the music that bard was playing and didn't find it too appealing, he would have preferred something more romantic and epic, and Azzrix was also getting a strange feeling from hearing the music, but he was still in good mood and walked over to the musician's pail and dropped in at least ten gold coins. Eventually Drubbin's broken English began to make more sense and Azzzrix was becoming tipsy. He noticed more people entering the bar and raised his mug to give an announcement. "Everyone! It is with great pleasure that I am sharing this celebration with you and hope that bright futures for all of us are to come! Now let us drink until either dream god conquers us or the death god takes us away!" he shouted and took another gulp of his mead and almost immediately afterwards he stumbled into a table knocking over a plate. He was able to right himself before he fell on the floor, but he had to use a chair as a brace to keep himself from falling over.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Yeah!" Drubbins shouted, more at someone making a proclamation than anything. It was good to show solidarity when you were the new boy. Despite being part of several huge victory feasts in the past, one of which had cleared an entire county of booze as raiding parties kept striking out farther and farther in an effort to acquire more, Drubbins had never discovered an amount of alcohol that would force a meeting with either of those gods. It was like there was something in the air, something that inspired blokes to bold action. If he was going to be getting drink from Da Boss than he would damn well do something to earn it. With a throaty grunt he lifted himself off the the floor, giving Azzrix two big, hearty pats as he lumbered past toward that job board that Da Boss had nodded at. He solemnly swept his eyes over it, taking in all the little papers and things. He couldn't make heads or tails of this, but he had never let that stop him before. He raised up a hand and pinched one at random between the nails of his fingers before pulling it off, then turned back around to scan the room. There would be a smart boy somewhere out there. Normally you could count on a magic boy to be very smart, but the only one who'd he'd seen do magic was that dog bloke. Drubbins had a pretty commanding view of the room with his height, but he couldn't see the dog bloke anymore. Then he looked for that blue bloke who'd pointed the boss out to him, but he wasn't in here either. He could ask Da Boss, but Da Boss seemed to expect you to be able to do this yourself and he didn't want to make a bad impression to a new Boss. He supposed he could go back and ask Azzrix, but he was a funny boy and might lie to him. That had happened to him before on a new Boss, just the expected new boy hazing. Then he spotted someone at a table in the far corner. Two blokes sharing a table, one of them wearing robes which nearly always meant he was a smart type. That wasn't the only reason, of course. There were plenty of blokes wearing robes in this tavern. No, this bloke looked like Malia Burg. His first boss. He was scared it might be Malia at first, before remembering that she and her whole tower had been blown to nothing with powerful magic. Wait, this person looked a lot like Malia so maybe they were also one of those she-blokes that Malia had told him she was. Drubbins decided that, just to be safe, he wouldn't mention the word bloke around them because that used to get Malia really steamed. He wandered up to the table with as much subtlety as his size allowed, which was none, and stood possibly too close behind Tahira to be entirely comfortable. "Scuse me." he asked tentatively, holding up the paper. "Whats dis say?"</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nodded along to Historia's response. She certainly wasn't wrong. Or at least it sounded like it, Claire had never heard of the Anemoi islands. She actually didn't know all too much about the rest of the world... After Historia it seemed to be Mysaren's turn to speak, choosing the next turn the conversation would take. As just stated, Claire didn't know that much about the world. She had no idea where they could sell precious items. Having nothing to say on the matter, she let her attention fall back out to the crowd. She eyed the ogre, the rat, the musician, the lizard. Plenty of people to see, probably from plenty of places. Claire felt small. "If you are going to go sell some things, may I...tag along?" She asked softly over to the other girl. She didn't look her way at first, but her gaze hovered over after a tiny bit. "I...am looking for something." She paused, choosing her words carefully. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but then it fell closed again. It seems the right words, were no words at all. As if to show that, she turned back to her her food and took another portion. She was easily the slowest eater of the three, her food was getting cold... "I'm from Akontosh." She added in between dainty mouthfuls. It was a large city, quite a ways away...Known for it's rich history in the arts, and for it's high rate of income. "I'm here...to look for something." She seemed amendment on letting out what 'something' was. She cut another portion of nearly charred steak. "I would appreciate it..." she commented, making reference once more to her request of accompanying the other.</s>	<\|message\|>Historia Saurvale "Ah! Don't be sorry for giving me advice Miss Mysaren!" Historia told her, quickly looking up at her with a worried expression. She hopped Miss Mysaren hadn't mistaken her annoyance at the musical spell for annoyance at her. "Advice is a wonderful thing. It teaches lessons and it shows concern. I can only thank you for giving me some." Historia told her, smiling a little as she pulled down her goggles over her eyes again. Historia kind of wondered what kind of life Miss Mysaren had lead up till now for her to tell her that... "Looking to sell some things huh..." Historia continued, not dwelling on those thoughts for long. "Hmmm...Well, I've gotten to know a few merchants a little in town by doing a few delivers for them. Perhaps I could introduce you to them if that might help?" Historia suggested. She paused when Miss Claire spoke up though, surprised that Miss Claire was willing to give the name of her place of origin. Historia would try to find some information about Akontosh later. She gave Miss Claire a smile, though Historia wasn't sure if Miss Claire saw that as she was keeping her eyes on her plate. Historia also wanted to ask what Miss Claire was looking for, because perhaps she could help, but with the advice they just gave her, and the fact that Miss Claire didn't say what it was, even though she had the chance to, it was clear that she didn't feel like talking about it. "Perhaps I could show the two of you around a little? At least the commerce areas, since they're the ones I'm most familiar with at the moment. I mean, I'm not an expert of this city yet, but it would certainly be nice to walk with others." Historia told them with a smile. She had started walking more since she left home. Mostly because the skies were lonely with so few races haveing the ability to fly around. Historia let out a small laugh, "Oh dear, I just realized that you two are probably going to tell me I shouldn't go walking around with strangers now huh?"</s>
<\|description\|>Margaret von Eisenberg Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 30 Occupation: Witch, mercenary Appearance: Source Margaret is a huge woman, as all people from the cold north are. She stands some 185 centimeters tall and weighs just shy of 75 kilograms. As one who lives as a mercenary, she keeps her body in pretty good shape. As all Nords, her complexion is unusually pale. Perhaps her most stunning features are her eyes and hair, both an unnatural red color. Her eyes seem to glow ever so slightly in the dark. She keeps the hair loose and shoulder length. There is a scar on the right side of her face, stretching almost from the corner of her mouth over to the cheek. She wears a thick fur coat that covers her back and sides, as she keeps the front unbuttoned on most occasions. Below the coat are sturdy, leather pants and a jacket littered with pockets and belts to carry her stuff. She wears armor, but it is all hidden under her clothing. Personality/Interests: Margaret is driven by two things: Greed for coin and lust for adventure. She is in her element when fleeing from angered guards after recovering a particularly valuable piece of art she will get paid handsomely for bringing back. She doesn't shy from people, especially if they order a round of ale for her or come seeking use or just being interested in her craft. The witch is a good companion to have around, ready to help with whatever is needed just as long as she gets something from it in the long run. She is calm even when angered, and will usually punish the culprit through carefully planned humiliation rather than punching a few teeth out. She has somewhat grey morality as any merc would, but unless your deal is really lucrative, she tries to say on the good side of the law. Her loyalty is not too firm though, as a better deal will always win, and if the deal ceases to be god during the mission, then the deal is off. Equipment: Margaret's armor is relatively light and scarce, only protecting her vital areas and parts of her body she can attack with, such as shins and knuckles. The armor is made out of lighter alloy than steel, and albeit it is not as durable, it allows her to move more easily. She carries a satchel around that contains materials and some equipment necessary for her witchcraft. The satchel has a booby trapped lock to prevent greedy hands from taking some of her possessions from under her nose. Weapons: While she makes a hefty use of magic, it is not suited to all tasks. As such, Margaret carries a hunting crossbow with gravity loaded cartridges of five bolts each. It is equipped with a scope and bayonet lock which can mount her shortsword for close range encounters. The crossbow can also shoot a grappling hook and a signal flare. The shortsword is barely above the dagger category as far as length of blade goes. The blade has a slit in the middle which acts as a capillary to hold poison or other substances. Finally she has a stiletto knife in her boot as a last resort. Powers: As a parting gift from her alchemy teacher, Margaret's eyes were enchanted to allow her to see a tiny bit into the infrared spectrum. It's not enough to give her proper night vision, but it makes spotting living beings more easy. Abilities: Humans are the jacks of all trades masters of none, and as such Margaret doesn't possess any special abilities. Talents: Growing up in the snowy, cold northern mountains, Margaret is resistant to the whims of weather. Despite wearing a fur coat all the time, she hardly ever feels hot, and yet can go on in a snowstorm if the wind speed is not high enough to make traveling by foot impossible. She has a great aim with her crossbow, being able to make a precision hit at 400 meters and safely hit the target at 600. When not using the scope, the distances are halved. While she is no weakling, she prefers a balance between offense and defense, and between strength and agility. Over the years of travelling, she built a decent stamina. Magic: Ah, her source of coin. Margaret is very skilled witch versed in many things, none of which an esteemed magician or even a necromancer would have anything to do with. While she can not weave grand spells of destruction or raise an army of unliving servants, she can beat a stronger opponent through trickery and cunning. Fortune telling: Margaret carries magical cards with her. Aside from being able to enforce her other tricks with them, she can use them for telling fortunes. Her predictions are accurate, but the cards are not always easy to read and there can be a mistake in the interpretation. Wards and charms: A very useful technique, the witch can construct wards that affect the area around them. the effect can vary, from blocking magic to shocking people around with electric bolts. She is not as skilled as a full alchemist and can only dream of building animated constructs. Charms are personalized, small wards that only affect the person holding them. Alchemy and potion making: A skill that makes quite the portion of her income, Margaret can mix various concoctions, from medicines to ales. Her salves are taking effect over time though, unlike holy items that work instantly, however they are more potent if there is time to apply them properly. Spellcasting: As a witch, Margaret will nto be raining fire and ice shards on armies, even though she can still pull off a good fireball if she needs to. Instead, her magic is more focused on hexes and curses, made to hinder her opponent rather than neutralize them. These range from simply causing the target to lose balance into turning an unsuspecting man into a sheep for limited time. She can also prepare her spells and bind them to gemstones which can be used later without the need to spend her own mana on creating the spell, only the tiny bit required for activating it. Trivia: * Voice: Tracy Scoggins * Theme: Youtube * Margaret has a huge appetite, and you will not satisfy her with vegetables and fruit either. * She enjoys betting games, having an easy time winning some extra coin due to her swindles and witchcraft. * The witch is a happy drunk. Sessamaru: "What a strange critter. Seems useful though! I wouldn't like to feed him though." Historia: "Save for the goofy appearance? A rather polite person who deserves politeness in kind." Saha: "can drink me under the table, has the strength to drag me home, likes music and dances… The ideal drinking buddy! No drunk kisses of venomous death though." Katelia: "Seems like a good company on the shadier jobs. Just watch out for your share." Julio: "A good chap to barter herbs and materials with. It seems like having him in the group would make traveling considerably more luxurious, let's try to stay on his good side." Azzrix: "A dying breed of a bad man. Definitely good company on shady jobs, as one doesn't have to really worry about betrayal. Just don't let him rifle your pockets." Naida: "Keep the ale coming!" Drubbins: "When in need of cheap muscle, that's the person to go to." Mysaren: "Dead meat is supposed to stay dead, makes her kinda creepy at times." Tahira: "I'd expect her kind to look down on my craft, but its not the case, so she's OK I guess." Rimau: "Old fart who'd love nothing more than to hog the easy jobs. then again, decent competition keeps one from getting sloppy." Claire: "Who?" Viggo: "Is that a male or a female? Kill it before it lays eggs!" Rouen: "The guy seems like he should have been born a hundred years ago when chivalry and honor were a thing. If it came to a fight, I could take him easily as long as I manage to stay out of range of that bloody massive sword." Felan: "He seems to have something against me, but what do I care what a farm boy thinks. I just stay out of his fur."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nodded along to Historia's response. She certainly wasn't wrong. Or at least it sounded like it, Claire had never heard of the Anemoi islands. She actually didn't know all too much about the rest of the world... After Historia it seemed to be Mysaren's turn to speak, choosing the next turn the conversation would take. As just stated, Claire didn't know that much about the world. She had no idea where they could sell precious items. Having nothing to say on the matter, she let her attention fall back out to the crowd. She eyed the ogre, the rat, the musician, the lizard. Plenty of people to see, probably from plenty of places. Claire felt small. "If you are going to go sell some things, may I...tag along?" She asked softly over to the other girl. She didn't look her way at first, but her gaze hovered over after a tiny bit. "I...am looking for something." She paused, choosing her words carefully. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but then it fell closed again. It seems the right words, were no words at all. As if to show that, she turned back to her her food and took another portion. She was easily the slowest eater of the three, her food was getting cold... "I'm from Akontosh." She added in between dainty mouthfuls. It was a large city, quite a ways away...Known for it's rich history in the arts, and for it's high rate of income. "I'm here...to look for something." She seemed amendment on letting out what 'something' was. She cut another portion of nearly charred steak. "I would appreciate it..." she commented, making reference once more to her request of accompanying the other.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale "Ah! Don't be sorry for giving me advice Miss Mysaren!" Historia told her, quickly looking up at her with a worried expression. She hopped Miss Mysaren hadn't mistaken her annoyance at the musical spell for annoyance at her. "Advice is a wonderful thing. It teaches lessons and it shows concern. I can only thank you for giving me some." Historia told her, smiling a little as she pulled down her goggles over her eyes again. Historia kind of wondered what kind of life Miss Mysaren had lead up till now for her to tell her that... "Looking to sell some things huh..." Historia continued, not dwelling on those thoughts for long. "Hmmm...Well, I've gotten to know a few merchants a little in town by doing a few delivers for them. Perhaps I could introduce you to them if that might help?" Historia suggested. She paused when Miss Claire spoke up though, surprised that Miss Claire was willing to give the name of her place of origin. Historia would try to find some information about Akontosh later. She gave Miss Claire a smile, though Historia wasn't sure if Miss Claire saw that as she was keeping her eyes on her plate. Historia also wanted to ask what Miss Claire was looking for, because perhaps she could help, but with the advice they just gave her, and the fact that Miss Claire didn't say what it was, even though she had the chance to, it was clear that she didn't feel like talking about it. "Perhaps I could show the two of you around a little? At least the commerce areas, since they're the ones I'm most familiar with at the moment. I mean, I'm not an expert of this city yet, but it would certainly be nice to walk with others." Historia told them with a smile. She had started walking more since she left home. Mostly because the skies were lonely with so few races haveing the ability to fly around. Historia let out a small laugh, "Oh dear, I just realized that you two are probably going to tell me I shouldn't go walking around with strangers now huh?"</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Marcoon Blue Moon Tavern Sess grabs her by her arm and yanks her out the door, heading toward the man that she had seen out the window earlier. She hears him yell to Bernard before they rush out the door. He is grabbing her wrist, to which Naida flushes. Normally Sess has a tendency not to touch people. Honestly, this was the first time that she had ever seen him do it. He drags her outside and stops in front of the man and... Kat. Naida frowns when she remembers that the she-demon was actually talking to the knight. Sess bows and introduces himself to the knight man before introducing her. Putting aside her feelings of slight rage and loathing toward Kat, she smiles at the knight. "Anything anyone needs at the bar, they come to me," Naida says with a big smile on her face. "So where you from, knight-boy? I haven't seen you around these parts before." Since Kat is here, Naida has lost a lot of her happy energy that she used to have in the bar. Now, her silvery wings flutter nervously, going faster than her mouth had been in the bar. She grips Sess's wrist, anchoring herself to the ground through him. She knew that if she let go, she would probably wind up hovering a few yards off the ground and she did not need that right now. She tries not to grip onto his arm too hard, but she can't help that her fingernails dig into his skin slightly.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Viggo would have ignored his chastisement from Naida, continuing on with the song until its due finish. As Viggo hits the last strum of his strings, he raises his head, sweating and thoroughly worked from his playing. With his guitar still resting at his hip he notes the additional coins in his pail, grinning happily as he grabs a small cloth and wipes beads of perspiration from his brow. Walking back to the bar he takes a bottle of beer out of his "other bucket", promptly uncapping it and drinking the contents. Now a little more than tipsy, he shoots a cursory glare at Naida, moving to give her a piece of his mind on the use of magic in his playing, though before he can take a first step she's led outside by Sess. He blows a strand of hair from his face, and loops it behind his ear, sighing in exasperation. Viggo places his fingers on the neck of his guitar, absently tapping notes without making much noise. He soon begins to walk around while practising quietly, scanning the crowd for anyone he might be able to serenade a few coins out of.</s>	<\|message\|>Margaret von Eisenberg Margaret was about to say something when the charm lit up again as the hair-for-brains decided it was a good time to terrorize her hungover hearing. She felt the charm actually heat up - It might be a permanent enchantment, but the trade was that it could only absorb and neutralize limited amount of magic in the given time. Just like her liver and alcohol. "Would somebody drag this circus reject out of here? My ears are going to bleed! I swear every time this individuum makes an appearance I lose a bit of my will to live!" she shout-whispered her complaint. Her anger vented somewhat, she turned back to the mage who inquired of her skill. "Oh, quite a few years. Under various masters and from various sources. I suppose that's the defining quality of witchcraft - learning on your own and largely by doing." she shrugged at Tahira's question. "It is more reliant on resources than the magic itself, which can make it rather costly at times though." She really hoped some well paying jobs would pop up soon. Speaking of which, the ogre approached their table. Apparently it... he... didn't know the written word. "That's the menu." she answered for the other whens he got a glimpse of the paper he was holding.</s>
<\|description\|>Margaret von Eisenberg Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 30 Occupation: Witch, mercenary Appearance: Source Margaret is a huge woman, as all people from the cold north are. She stands some 185 centimeters tall and weighs just shy of 75 kilograms. As one who lives as a mercenary, she keeps her body in pretty good shape. As all Nords, her complexion is unusually pale. Perhaps her most stunning features are her eyes and hair, both an unnatural red color. Her eyes seem to glow ever so slightly in the dark. She keeps the hair loose and shoulder length. There is a scar on the right side of her face, stretching almost from the corner of her mouth over to the cheek. She wears a thick fur coat that covers her back and sides, as she keeps the front unbuttoned on most occasions. Below the coat are sturdy, leather pants and a jacket littered with pockets and belts to carry her stuff. She wears armor, but it is all hidden under her clothing. Personality/Interests: Margaret is driven by two things: Greed for coin and lust for adventure. She is in her element when fleeing from angered guards after recovering a particularly valuable piece of art she will get paid handsomely for bringing back. She doesn't shy from people, especially if they order a round of ale for her or come seeking use or just being interested in her craft. The witch is a good companion to have around, ready to help with whatever is needed just as long as she gets something from it in the long run. She is calm even when angered, and will usually punish the culprit through carefully planned humiliation rather than punching a few teeth out. She has somewhat grey morality as any merc would, but unless your deal is really lucrative, she tries to say on the good side of the law. Her loyalty is not too firm though, as a better deal will always win, and if the deal ceases to be god during the mission, then the deal is off. Equipment: Margaret's armor is relatively light and scarce, only protecting her vital areas and parts of her body she can attack with, such as shins and knuckles. The armor is made out of lighter alloy than steel, and albeit it is not as durable, it allows her to move more easily. She carries a satchel around that contains materials and some equipment necessary for her witchcraft. The satchel has a booby trapped lock to prevent greedy hands from taking some of her possessions from under her nose. Weapons: While she makes a hefty use of magic, it is not suited to all tasks. As such, Margaret carries a hunting crossbow with gravity loaded cartridges of five bolts each. It is equipped with a scope and bayonet lock which can mount her shortsword for close range encounters. The crossbow can also shoot a grappling hook and a signal flare. The shortsword is barely above the dagger category as far as length of blade goes. The blade has a slit in the middle which acts as a capillary to hold poison or other substances. Finally she has a stiletto knife in her boot as a last resort. Powers: As a parting gift from her alchemy teacher, Margaret's eyes were enchanted to allow her to see a tiny bit into the infrared spectrum. It's not enough to give her proper night vision, but it makes spotting living beings more easy. Abilities: Humans are the jacks of all trades masters of none, and as such Margaret doesn't possess any special abilities. Talents: Growing up in the snowy, cold northern mountains, Margaret is resistant to the whims of weather. Despite wearing a fur coat all the time, she hardly ever feels hot, and yet can go on in a snowstorm if the wind speed is not high enough to make traveling by foot impossible. She has a great aim with her crossbow, being able to make a precision hit at 400 meters and safely hit the target at 600. When not using the scope, the distances are halved. While she is no weakling, she prefers a balance between offense and defense, and between strength and agility. Over the years of travelling, she built a decent stamina. Magic: Ah, her source of coin. Margaret is very skilled witch versed in many things, none of which an esteemed magician or even a necromancer would have anything to do with. While she can not weave grand spells of destruction or raise an army of unliving servants, she can beat a stronger opponent through trickery and cunning. Fortune telling: Margaret carries magical cards with her. Aside from being able to enforce her other tricks with them, she can use them for telling fortunes. Her predictions are accurate, but the cards are not always easy to read and there can be a mistake in the interpretation. Wards and charms: A very useful technique, the witch can construct wards that affect the area around them. the effect can vary, from blocking magic to shocking people around with electric bolts. She is not as skilled as a full alchemist and can only dream of building animated constructs. Charms are personalized, small wards that only affect the person holding them. Alchemy and potion making: A skill that makes quite the portion of her income, Margaret can mix various concoctions, from medicines to ales. Her salves are taking effect over time though, unlike holy items that work instantly, however they are more potent if there is time to apply them properly. Spellcasting: As a witch, Margaret will nto be raining fire and ice shards on armies, even though she can still pull off a good fireball if she needs to. Instead, her magic is more focused on hexes and curses, made to hinder her opponent rather than neutralize them. These range from simply causing the target to lose balance into turning an unsuspecting man into a sheep for limited time. She can also prepare her spells and bind them to gemstones which can be used later without the need to spend her own mana on creating the spell, only the tiny bit required for activating it. Trivia: * Voice: Tracy Scoggins * Theme: Youtube * Margaret has a huge appetite, and you will not satisfy her with vegetables and fruit either. * She enjoys betting games, having an easy time winning some extra coin due to her swindles and witchcraft. * The witch is a happy drunk. Sessamaru: "What a strange critter. Seems useful though! I wouldn't like to feed him though." Historia: "Save for the goofy appearance? A rather polite person who deserves politeness in kind." Saha: "can drink me under the table, has the strength to drag me home, likes music and dances… The ideal drinking buddy! No drunk kisses of venomous death though." Katelia: "Seems like a good company on the shadier jobs. Just watch out for your share." Julio: "A good chap to barter herbs and materials with. It seems like having him in the group would make traveling considerably more luxurious, let's try to stay on his good side." Azzrix: "A dying breed of a bad man. Definitely good company on shady jobs, as one doesn't have to really worry about betrayal. Just don't let him rifle your pockets." Naida: "Keep the ale coming!" Drubbins: "When in need of cheap muscle, that's the person to go to." Mysaren: "Dead meat is supposed to stay dead, makes her kinda creepy at times." Tahira: "I'd expect her kind to look down on my craft, but its not the case, so she's OK I guess." Rimau: "Old fart who'd love nothing more than to hog the easy jobs. then again, decent competition keeps one from getting sloppy." Claire: "Who?" Viggo: "Is that a male or a female? Kill it before it lays eggs!" Rouen: "The guy seems like he should have been born a hundred years ago when chivalry and honor were a thing. If it came to a fight, I could take him easily as long as I manage to stay out of range of that bloody massive sword." Felan: "He seems to have something against me, but what do I care what a farm boy thinks. I just stay out of his fur."</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) "Tch." Damn right the brat should keep to herself. Now Kat was just a bundle of aggravation and nerves with no way to relieve it all. Suddenly, she grabbed a knife from her belt, and her arm shot forward, knife flying through the air. The blade embedded itself several inches deep into the adjacent tavern wall. She doubted Bernard would be pleased, but she was too caught up in her own emotions to care at the moment. Besides, Bernie was never pleased – not that Kat could tell, at least. Hel started a bit when Kat took out her aggravations on the wall, and looked back at her. With no more threats to deal with, he turned his full attention back to her, nudging her leg with a paw and resting his large head on her lap, making small noises in the back of his throat. Kat ran a hand over her face and heaved a sigh. "Yeah, I know," she said in a low voice. This was ridiculous. She shouldn't have been this worked up. She gave him a pat on the head and then pulled a small copper coin out of her pocket. Still buzzing with energy, she balanced the coin on the back of her first finger and began turning it over from one finger to the next, back and forth.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen frowned as the inn-keep Naida attempted to help the two men. He watched the older man step on his other foot with his injured foot and hop around. "Well with old age comes clumsiness," he thought. The fox-eared man grumbled his way up towards the stool. "Fooooooood..." he moaned. "Well, it doesn't look like they need help. This really has to be one of the strangest inns I have ever been in, I wonder wh-," he thought and a glance around made him realize something. The winged girl, the fox ears, the white hair, the one-handed village-girl with the cat that was more predator than pet. Now he realized that there was a bipedal lizard and a furry-blue humanoid. "Ugh, a fay tavern," he thought and a light look of disgust grew on his face. "Well, it isn't like I have a choice I better get used to this," he thought. He took a seat in one of the empty bar stools. "May I have some stew as well?" he asked Naida.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern Naida rolls her eyes as Sessamaru begins to beg for food. And, to make it even better, the knight guy now asks for food. She sighs and hurries back to the kitchen, calling for two Potato Nut stews. She sweeps into the back kitchen, her wings fluttering, as she helps prepare the meals, but before she can do much, the cook kicks her back out to go make drinks. The water sprite growls at him, mad that she can't help, but she complies and walks back out to the bar. Naida grabs Rouen's untouched Fey Buster drink and sets it in front of him. "Here you go, mate," she says. She is about to walk away to get Sess a drink when she pauses and turns back around. She looks at him carefully and says, "Drink that slowly, mate. Don't want to see you running naked down the street because you drank something too fast." She smirks and proceeds to pour Sessamaru's favorite drink. She slides it down the bar and it stops directly in front of him. The cook then rings for her with the soups and she flits over to the kitchen, now hovering a couple feet off the ground. She takes the plates in her hands and flutters back over to them, setting the stew down in front of them. She grabs some salt and sprinkles it over the top of them, smiling at Rouen and Sessamaru. She turns to Sess and says, "Here, eat up. Want to keep your strength up before that old bag comes back and beats the life out of ya." She smiles at Rouen before she hears that Rimau is addressing her. She turns to look at him and smiles. "Oh, hey, Rimau! This is just a new customer," she says with a big smile. "I didn't see you walk down, my scaly friend. I'll get you that juice right away." She quickly grabs the couple drinks from under the bar and mixes them together, adding a very small pinch of fairy dust to it so Rimau could wake up a little more. She passes the juice down the bar, sliding it toward the scaly man and says, "There you go, bud! Don't drink it too fast." She grins at him before turning back to Sess and Rouen.</s>	<\|message\|>Margaret von Eisenberg "It was a song? Oh! Pardon me. I must have mistaken it for a vocal lacking, random, screeching noise. Oh, and let's not even mention the fact that I do not take kindly to someone trying to cast a spell on me." The witch replied to the 'musician'. It was cute how the scrawny guy was trying to sound threatening while she could probably shove him into a beer glass. "If you have a problem with that, I will gladly talk to you about it outside." she said with a mocking smirk. Everyone who frequented the tavern knew that some magic prevented any serious fighting to take place within. Dismissing Viggo with a shooing wave of the hand, she turned her attention to the ogre at their table. She couldn't shake the amusing thought that the IQ of the next conversation might actually be higher than the one she just finished. "Looks like somebody has a sweet tooth." she commented. an idea struck her, and she patted her pocket. It would be a high risk investment and might not pay off quickly, but... She has seen some of the tougher jobs on the board and the witch would be lying if she said she felt confident she could take them on alone. It might be worth her while to make some friends, and a sorceress and an ogre seemed like a good mix with her primarily using a sword. As long as they didn't wield a guitar. Her own growing hunger making the decision easier, she snapped her fingers. "Oi, miss Marcoon! would the chef be so kind and sent three servings of pancakes our way? On me." she said, looking up the ogre. Or ten. Look at the size of him! "Do I get a discount on large purchase?" she tried with innocent smile. Old habits died hard.</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren Location: Blue Moon Tavern Mysaren locked the gate of the graveyard behind her, her shovel in her right hand. The smell of wet dirt and corpses always made Mysaren feel at home, and she knew that the smell clung to her and her clothes right now. Her bag was filled with jewelry and clothes, and as soon as she cleaned herself up a bit, she would sell it all for a pretty buck. She figured out early on that selling expensive jewelry smelling like a graveyard was a bit too suspicious for most folk. Now she just needed a place to stay. She still had a bit of money in her pockets, enough for a cheap room in some inn somewhere. A drink sounded nice too, and she did some quick math in her head. Yeah, she could afford some cheap ale. She had heard there was a tavern in the town anyways, a place called Blue Moon. If it were up to her, though, she'd never set foot near a tavern. Taverns were always filled with death, some poor bastard drinking himself under or a bar fight always about to start. The constant screaming in the back of her mind always made it hard to sleep, and always kept her on edge. But, she had no choice in the matter. She had lost her bed roll a few towns back, and she was forced to rely on inns so she at least had a roof over her head. After slipping her shovel into a ring on her belt to hide it under her robes, she wrapped the plum-colored robes tightly around her and made her way to The Blue Moon Tavern. As soon as she stepped in, something seemed off. For one, there was total silence in her mind. No awful muttering and screaming, no whispers, nothing. Not a sound that implied that anyone was going to die today. Mysaren's brow furrowed and her eyes scanned the scene in front of her, her tongue running over her teeth in a nervous manner. This was bizarre, and as much as she liked the silence, it was too weird for her. She rolled her eyes at herself though. She probably looked like an idiot standing here like this. Nothing was the matter. The place seemed well organized for an inn, clean and all of the people, while a bit tipsy, weren't loud or too obnoxious. She could get used to this. She decided to get a drink before she asked for the room, staking the place out a bit. She made her way to one of the tables in the corner and sat, her dark blue eyes watching everyone like a hawk. Someone entered right after her, a girl who looked like she just got in a fight with a bear, her clothes tattered and worn. She stifled a laugh and leaned back in the chair, digging into her messenger bag for her money.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia had been going to the Blue Moon now for about a week, ever since she arrived in Belhiem. It had been by chance that she had stumbled in there, ready to spend her last of her money on a decent meal, only to discover someone had taken her money. Some kindly patron though had been willing to pay for her meal though, leaving Historia grateful and in their debt. Paying the patron back after she got the money to do so was one of the main reasons Historia kept coming back to the Blue Moon (though she quickly found other reasons). Unfortunately, not only did she not get the patron's name, but they didn't appear to be a regular as Historia hadn't seen them since that day. One day, maybe soon, maybe not, she would find them again and pay them back. For now she was sticking close to the tavern since it was a nice place and she could find plenty of job opportunities there. Like the one she took this morning.... A kindly old lady had asked her to get her cat out of a tree. Simple enough to be sure, but that didn't mean it was easy. That cat really didn't like Historia. By the end of it, Historia was covered in scratches and bite marks, but she had gotten the cat to its owner and that was all that mattered (that and the pay had been pretty good, all things considered...). With that, it was time to once again go eat at the Blue Moon. Historia was used to the small glances that the patrons of the tavern gave to people as they walked in by now. The first time it happened she thought she had made some mistake and froze until everyone stopped looking at her. Historia walked past the people with their small glances and went over to the bar. She started to look around for Miss Naida, but couldn't find her...Perhaps she wasn't there yet? Well, she didn't want to disturb Mr. Bernard...though she wasn't sure if could really bother him. For the week that she had been there, Mr. Bernard never had really changed expressions...But still Historia would wait. Maybe she could use this time to get to know some of the other patrons. So Historia looked around the Tavern, hoping perhaps to see the kind patron that had paid for her meal. Needless to say, she didn't see them. What she did see though was two people that interested her. The first was a woman just a few seats away from her. She looked...like she had seen better days. The other person, also a woman sitting in one of the corner tables, who as far as Historia knew, was new here. Historia both decided they looked like they could use so company. So she got up and went over to the woman at the far table first. "Hello, my name is Historia. I was wondering if you'd like to sit at the bar with me." She told the woman with a smile. After the woman replied Historia went back over to the bar and sat near the other woman. "Hello, I do hope you don't mind if I sit next to you. My name is Historia. It's a pleasure to meet you." Historia greeted her, smiling again.</s> <\|message\|>Margaret von Eisenberg The Inn was still waking up and the day was beginning when a moaning heap shifted at a table far in the corner. Margaret felt like she had two heads, her normal one and one on the inside of it, much bigger and pushing out on her own head in all directions. The ale she could down with ease, but the liquors at the Inn she could have sworn were made out of divine tears. Blinking her eyes as the morning light mercilessly assaulted them and sent a few more stabbing sensations through her skull, the witch winces as she raised her face from the table she passed out at last night. It would appear the drinking got out of hand again. Well, she did always believe the body shouldn't go to the grave unused. Patting her side to check her satchel was still there and intact, she ran a hand through her red mane and looked around. The people were still sparse, much like any serious work opportunity lately. It was what lead her to this place. She heard from a few other mercs one could live here in return for service alone, which was exactly what she needed for now. Her wares sold here as well, many adventurers in need of a good healing salve or a magic dissolving charm coming through. However there was no thrill in it. She didn't come here to turn into a merchant. But luck was not on her side so she had to find the cure for the boredom on the bottom of the glass. Even the quick glance over to the mission board confirmed her suspicion. It even got taken down for the frame to be repaired! Margaret was itching to get out and bash some heads - right after soaking her own in a barrel of cold water - but the Gods just didn't want her out there. Even her cards agreed. Last night she drawn them for herself, and ended up with 'The Fool', 'The Magician', and 'Temperance'. Much to her dismay, over the time she noticed the combination of the fool and the magician usually indicated her self. And in this particular interpretation, she took Temperance for Boredom. Things were looking grim.</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Katelia trudged towards the tavern beside Hel, her massive companion. The two had spent the night hunting, and now had a great boar draped over the snow leopard's back to show for their efforts. The flaming sky, painted in the sunrise, mirrored the blood still dripping from the fresh kill, staining Hel's coat and the ground beneath them. Really, the boar was the only reason Kat wasn't having Hel carry her now. She had no interest sitting behind that stinking beast. While the two companions made for an odd scene – a small girl with a missing arm, midnight skin, and snowy eyes and hair, and her huge, menacing snow leopard carrying a still-warm carcass – the townspeople they passed had long since grown accustomed to them. This was a trek the two made once every few days for the past year and a half, and though they still garnered some stares and whispers, people had accepted them as just a couple more characters that colored their world. "Hey Bernie," Kat called as she pushed the back entrance to the tavern open, "got your new supply." She wasn't actually sure if the old proprietor liked it when she called him that. Kat had started using the nickname in the hopes that he wouldn't. Testing your landlord/employer probably wasn't the wisest move, but Kat just couldn't figure the old codger out. Really, what the heck was his deal? Hel shrugged the boar off of his shoulders in the backroom and it landed with a great whump, blood no doubt staining the floor. This, too, Kat had him do intentionally. Most would yell or scold at their floor being seeped with blood, but this guy… Kat just shrugged her shoulders, once again deciding to leave the mystery of the Blue Moon Tavern proprietor for another day. Glancing around, she saw that the sprite waitress wasn't anywhere to be found yet. She was right annoying, but at least Kat knew what to make of her. Plus, she was fun to ruffle. Kat turned to the kitchen sink and began the process of rinsing off her hand and splashing water on her face. After that she grabbed an old rag to wipe down Hel (who always tried to swat her away whenever she did this). Finally rid of the blood, she grabbed an apple out of a barrel and turned to leave the kitchen to go to the front of the tavern. "Later, Bernie," she called behind her, Hel following her with his heavy footfalls. The two made their way to a table against a wall. Kat dropped herself into a chair, swinging her feet up on top of the table and leaning back in a move that could only be called 'unconcerned.' Hel settled himself at her side, resting his massive head on his paws, and the two watched as the tavern began to fill up for the day, Kat slowly eating her apple.</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Bernard] The barkeep watched Naida enter the bar in a hurry, eying her with barely any expression. Though, if one was to look closely, he was mildly annoyed by her tardiness but kept it to himself, buried deep into his being. Her peck on his cheek warmed him, but he pretended not to notice and simply watched as the Water Sprite did her duties. So long as she was doing her job, he had no reason to complain or give her the stink eye. Bernard went back to watching the rest of the tavern, acting as sentinel once more. [Sessamaru] Saw the glowing light of hope and peace deep within his mindscape, viewing his own center of peace. It warmed him. It warmed those around him. He reached out with his hand towards that light, to grasp it and all of its secrets. He drew closer and closer to it, growing warmer and hopeful. He was so close, so very close now. If only he could-- Hiya, Sess! "Ack!" Sessamaru cried, falling to the floor with a thump! as a wave of potent magical energy flying everywhere throughout the tavern, lashing the candles and making their flames roar higher and brighter, the chandeliers falling and the crystals shattering long before they hit the wooden floor. Even before the descent, the animals all around him fled in a panic, instinctively knowing of the danger. Sess appeared dazed and confused, his eyes following invisible birds that seemed to swirl around his head. "H-hello, M-miss Na-Naida," Sessamaru managed to utter, his melodic voice switching octaves due to the ear-shattering salutations he received and the bump to his head. He lay there, trying to catch hold of the world again before it fled. I think she's trying to kill me, he thought, chuckling nervously both inwardly and outwardly. "H-how may I h-help you?" Sess asked. [Bernard] Bernard groaned as the expulsion of magic single-handedly destroyed the best chandeliers he own and the candles fully melted, no longer a wick in them. With a ring of his golden bell, several strong man wandered into the room, all of them wealthy contractors. Bernard gestured to them the small level of destruction to the bar and they immediately understood, leaving post haste. He leaned against the wall, slamming his palm into his face, slowly sliding it down. After recollecting himself, he rang the silver bell. "Drink. Meals. Everyone. Ratman." He told the chef as he reappeared, also carrying a tray of food to Claire. With a nod, and setting the food before the girl, he ran back into the kitchen and prepared food for the dish. Though he didn't have to, Bernard made his bell-chimes a symbol of his authority; perhaps the ogre was smart enough to know this.</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire allowed herself to remain a viewer, an outside party who is not involved, yet can look in. She watched as a lovely blue streak came in and began working. She was clearly in her element. She watched as she neared the party of three, regarded the two others, and went back to being a blur. Soon after a jingling sound and a loud voice drew her viewers eyes away. A free meal, how lovely. Claire bent over and drew her gold pouch from her travel bag. Untying the small knot she had previously made, she saw that she had very little coin left. She probably wouldn't have been able to stay the night. even if the man didn't pay for her meal. She sighed. "Is this all a common occurrence?" Claire asked over to Historia. She seemed to be the most experienced one of the bunch. Hysteria was reading her weapon...A bit jumpy perhaps. A lumbering figure found it's way into the scene. Another player in the blurring fantastic play she found herself in. They bellowed about the boss, and finding some place to be. Interesting, blur, free meal, boss, jumpy...Poor, hungry. A wave of energy ruptured past her. Her heart clenched. She shuddered. Something shattered. Claire sucked in air. She didn't know she had stopped. "I hope it's not.." she commented more to no one then to Historia. As if to console her, a plate of food appeared in front of her. She looked up to see the stoic face of Bernard. She nodded thankfully in return, but of course if he saw it, it was a mystery. She look to her conversation partners. Perhaps she should wait for them to be served too...</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern "Oooh, Sess, I'm really sorry!" Naida exclaims, reaching out to help him up. "I was just trying to have a little fun!" She smiles at him. "I haven't seen you in forever... Well, forever in being yesterday, but still..." Suddenly, the door bursts open and a man runs through yelling for drinks and how he is buying everyone in the bar a drink. Naida rolls her eyes and smiles at Sess. "I'm probably going to have to take care of that in a minute. Can you believe some of these thieves, man? I mean, I know that's Azzrix, but still, you don't need to barge into every place and flaunt your money." She rolls her eyes again and laughs, the light bell sound echoing through the tavern. Every time she talks, people can rarely understand her because she talks so speedily and she changes topics so fast that people often times do not follow her. "I really am sorry that I scared you, Sess," she states. "I'll make it up to you. I'll make you your favorite dish on the house. I'll even cook it myself if that helps at all." She grins at him, hoping that he'll accept her apology food... thing. Right then, the ogre bursts through the door and she sighs. He begins demanding to know where the boss is. "Give me a minute." She flits over to Bernard with a blur and a sprinkle of glitter across the floor and apologizes. "Sorry about the damage to the bar. You can take it out of my paycheck for this month. I'll take care of the big guy if it's any consolation." Before he can answer yet again, she flits up to the ogre and she notices that she is not as tall as this humongous being is. In fact, she is down right puny in his presence. She smiles at Drubbins, fluttering directly in front of his face, and says, "Hello, sir! I am Naida Marcoon, part time bartender." She grabs his hand and shakes it rapidly, glitter and fairy dust from her wings and arms and legs falling to the ground. She then sets his hand back down by his side with another wide grin. Her hand began to coat with ice, a reflexive magic move that was defensive, just in case someone got out of hand in the bar. "May I ask who is asking for our boss? Actually, a better question would be what are you asking for? I mean, normally people just ask for the boss's name so that they can do business with him. Oh! Is that why you're here? Bernard has a lot of people who does business with him..." Naida's excitement gets ahead of her and she begins to randomly jump from tangent to tangent, probably confusing the poor fellow to no end with how rapidly she's talking and how quickly she changes subjects. A couple minutes later she realizes what she's doing. "I am so sorry sir. Faeries are known for having short attention spans though. Anyways, who is asking for our boss?" Right then, Bernard rings his bell and Naida looks back over at him. "Oh! There he is right there. You can go seem him if you would like. I take it by the bell ringing that he would like to talk to you as well. Not a very talkative fellow, but he's a good boss" She flits away back to Sessamaru and says, "Now, what were we talking about?"</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) It wasn't long before Kat saw the blue sparkles that signaled the sprite had made her appearance. She considered flagging her down and ordering food if only to annoy Naida, but decided against it. Kat was bored, but not that bored. Besides, that imp would probably just spit in her food anyway. Kat raised an eyebrow when a walking, talking rat sauntered into the tavern, ordering a round for everyone present. Exchanging a glance with Hel (Is this guy for real?) she shrugged. If he was paying, she wasn't gonna turn down a meal. Not that the tavern actually ever made you pay. It was the principle of the thing. She motioned to a waitress skittering back and forth through the tables and ordered a drink and a healthy plate of food. She almost spat out said drink when an ogre of all things busted through the tavern door. Some dark newcomer to the tavern was already on her feet, blade drawn. Well, she's a twitchy thing. This would be entertaining sure, but Kat wasn't really in the mood to watch someone get slaughtered. "Hey," she called out, still leaning casually at her table, "big guy." She gave a short whistle and raised her arm above her head, beconning the ogre towards her with two fingers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hel looking up at her, decidedly unimpressed. She winked back at him and he just rolled his eyes with a huff. Still, his tail flicked back and forth across the tavern floor, the only sign that he tensed in case any trouble came from Kat's… socialization. "You looking for the boss?" she asked him. Gesturing with her chin at Azzrix, she continued, "That's him over there. They call him Sir Rat, the Inexterminable. He likes it when you bow and kiss his hand."</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins It was a strange feeling that the blue bloke had left Drubbins with. It wasn't very common that something as big as him experienced what it was like to be run down by a donkey cart, but this was a close approximation. Still, he'd told him who Da Boss was and Drubbins attention was drawn further by the pointed ringing of a bell. Good Gods, how had he not known? He should have sensed this bloke before he even came in the door, which he remembered and reached back to shut out of due respect. Da Boss typically liked the doors to his lair closed. It was then that he heard someone call for him. Not by name, but in general whenever someone called out "big guy" they were talking to him. He looked over to some dark bloke who looked like he'd been krumped but good, who pointed out the rat bloke as Da Boss. But Drubbins had been through this before. This was typical new guy hazing, and he wasn't going to fall for it "Nah." He called over to the one armed bloke. "Dat guy ain't Da Boss. He's all little an stuff, and all nobby. Not Boss at all." He said, pointing at the rat bloke. "It ain't even dat dog bloke what did da big magic just now." He called over. This was some more smart thinkin'. He was two for two today, and on a role. "Dats a trick." He said, thundering steps bringing him before the bar. He slides the bar stools aside so he can sit, eye level, with Bernard. You only has to look at him to know. The strong build, the air of stoic command, the way his subordinates obeyed with such speed and with so little prompting. "Da only Boss, da only bloke you can call Boss in da room," he said, raising one long arm to point a finger at Bernard. "Is dis bloke right here!" He smiled, having actually passed the test. "Dats right, ain't it Boss? I'm your boy from now on!"</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Sess slowly regained his senses and heard Naida continuously apologize, but he simply looked back up at her and smiled. It was a nervous smile, his hand scratching the back of his head. "It's alright, really!" He pleaded, his face blushing due to the attention. "You don't have to worry about me, Miss Naida, honest." Naida swiftly left him to take care of things for a brief moment, such as speaking to the ogre at the doorway. He chuckled, his glowing emerald eyes darting to the creature calling him a "dog bloke." Unsure what the ogre was meaning by it, Sess simply let it go, unconcerned if it was a challenge or not. His first concern was Naida, who's return alleviated his spirits. "We weren't talking about anything, Miss Naida." Sessamaru replied kindly, bowing his head. He slowly rose to his feet and noticed that Tahira was in the bar, as well. The half-breed turned to stare at Naida. "Is there anything I may help you with, Miss Naida?" He asked politely. Perhaps shirking his training for a few hours wouldn't be a bad idea; after all, he was kind of hungry after the expulsion of his own magical energy. [Bernard] Bernard kept his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, waiting for everything to be repaired and replaced. When Naida approached him, he simply shrugged at her proposition. After all, accidents happen... unfortunately, they were very expensive accidents. Nevertheless, he cataloged the problem in the depths of his thoughts and continued to watch the events unfold in the tavern. There, coming towards him, was an ogre. Bernard eyed him as he had everyone else who entered, just peering into the depths of his soul. A subtle nod of his head and he approached the ogre, producing a pint of ale. He pointed to the Mission Board and muttered. "Boss." Without another word, he went back to his wall and continued overlooking the tavern, ensuring nothing went out of hand. [Rupert] Rupert felt the flux of magical energy and leaped from his seat. "Dagnabbit, Fox Boy McGee!" Rupert crowed, agitated. "If I had a pence for every time a whippersnapper like you went willy-nilly and gung-ho with magic, I'd be a filthy rich wizard with a harem of succubi!" The old wizard went on and rambled about "kids these days" and "back in my day." The flustered wizard knocked on the bar three times, which Bernard retrieved for him a rather expensive bottle of "Regulus Blue," a potent mead made with the finest honey and the richest of magic, combined with very powerful alchemical ingredients. A wizard's drink. Rupert's drink. The old codger downed the bottle in one go, ordering another with three knocks, this time taking his time. "Damned kids and their magic yeehaws, and hormonal yahoos."</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix heard several people give a cheer when he said that he would buy free drinks for everyone and he smiled. This made his ego rise a bit and he felt like the center of the tavern right now. Once he got his large mug of mead Azzrix heard Kat mention him and like the messenger god he went over to her with another mug of mead to share. "Did I hear my name uttered? Hello, your name is Katelia isn't it? I would assume that you know who I am by how you just spoke my name, but do you really know who I am?" asked her as he held out the extra mug for her to take it. He then noticed the ogre and whistled a bit at the sight of such a being. "You're a big one, hello my large friend. My name is Azzrix Grimmor, I am a glorious noble by day and a mysterious phantom by night. I stand before you as friend and speak the truth that friendship with a member of the noble Grimmor family is worth more than ten mountains of gold. My deeds though in shadows are above all in skill outside of my family and you will not find one as talented as I in any land. If it is a boss you're looking for then I am the one" Azzrix said to the ogre with a grin.</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat pouted a little when her attempt at entertaining herself fell flat. Hel just huffed and flicked her in the face with his tail. Leave it to Naida to spoil her fun. Guess the big lug's not as dumb as he looks, she thought to herself. Still pretty dumb, she amended at seeing him practically throw himself at Bernard's feet. Old Rupert was kicking up a fuss over magic again (something to do with Sess and Naida, of course) but that's not what took Kat by surprise. No, instead it was the fact that in front of her stood the very rat she'd attempted to make mischief on, noble and proud like a champion home from war and holding a drink out to her. Kat just exchanged a look with Hel, eyebrow raised. The snow leopard's ears twitched in a sign of amusement. This is what you get. Turning back to Azzrix, Kat opened her mouth to say the first thing that popped into her mind (Your name is actually Sir Rat, the Inexterminable?) when Hel lifted his head and dropped its significant weight onto her lap, pinning her down to the seat. To anyone else it would just look like an act of affection from a lazy cat, but she knew the warning for what it was: Don't start any shit. So instead, Kat shut her mouth into a closed-lip smile and tilted her head in a mock display of friendliness. Though Hel was preoccupied making sure his charge didn't do anything idiotic, he still watched the newcomer with his silver eyes, always wary. "Already got myself a drink on your behalf," she said, holding up her tankard. "Thanks." Gods above and below, this guy was for real, wasn't he? The corners of her mouth twitched up at the way he oh so gallantly introduced himself, calling himself the 'boss' to the ogre who'd just rebuffed him. Maybe there was still fun to be had.</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku The old Zizz soon descended the stairs and entered the main room of the tavern, scanning his head from left to right. It was considerably busier than usual this morning, he noticed. Lots of strange folk hanging around, too. There was some fancy-pants Rodent hanging about; could've sworn he's seen that one before. But there was something even stranger next to him; a giant Ogre was standing there with a pint in his hand (seemed like a woefully inadequate amount for a creature of his size), laughing in the Rodent's face. He couldn't see the Rodent's face, and that was a shame, because he'd probably have been putting on a funny expression. Off in one of the corners, he squinted at the redhead witch hanging about in the shade. It wasn't an evil squint, mind you, but a competitive squint; he had been at the tavern for about a week now, and had had ample opportunity to acquaint himself with that one. He couldn't help but admire her ingenuity with that Crossbow of hers. She could prove problematic if any big-time mercenary work pops up, with all that old-school magic of hers. Cheating? Yes, but only if you got caught. Then there was that Sheep herder at one of the tables. Best ignore that one, he thought. He'd been sneaking about 'his' land again, and he didn't seem to have a good sense of humour. The sort of person who'd go nuts if you so much as mentioned the idea of controlling animal population. Which was a shame, given the enormous Wolf he'd spotted in the area. That was going to prove quite the prize, when he had some free time. What was particularly irritating at this time in the morning, though, was the sheer business of the place. The Zizz usually sat in one of the comfy seats off in the corner somewhere, but it seemed like that area was flooded with young fools getting drunk at nine A.M., or whatever time it was. Morons! They'd probably end up dead before the day was done, he thought as he chuckled to himself slightly, though not forgetting his irritation. As a result of these morons, however, the Zizz was forced to manuever his way past quite a few patrons (not an easy task thanks to his height and tail swaying about) and clamber up on top a lone stool at the bar, somewhere he rarely ever sat. There was a good reason for this, which made itself apparent pretty soon. Ignoring the great wall that was the Ogre to his left, he rummaged about in one of his belt pockets to retrieve his prized Pipe, made of dark wood as per usual Zizz preference. Removing the little cap to stop all the pre-packed 'medicinal' herbs from falling out, he removed a match from the same pocket and attempted to strike it against the bar. No luck. He tried it again, and again, and about six more 'agains' before he could finally squeeze a little flame off it, grumbling to himself the entire time. That was another weird thing about the tavern; it always took more effort to light matches. Some sort of newfangled suppression field, perhaps, which might also explain the sheer lack of the usual bar fights he'd seen in... just about every other tavern he'd been to. Except the ones in Tarzblik, obviously. For entirely different reasons. Finally, he stuck his Pipe in his toothy mouth and lit it with the match, waving it about afterwards to turn the fire into a little smoke puff. Of course, that was nothing compared to what happened afterwards as the Zizz began to actually smoke said Pipe, releasing much bigger puffs of smoke which spread across the bar. Of course the Zizz didn't particularly care for any inconvenience this may cause, since the calming herbal sensation had him captivated. It was enough to make him grin again, in that classic terrifying fashion Zizz were known for.</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was slightly disappointed that Kat hadn't taken the mug he had offered, but she did already have one. He then heard the orge's response and even though he kept a straight face Azzrix had a vein bulging on his head. How dare this creature make his offer of help a game, if he wasn't of noble birth then he would have taken this beast's head. Even though his mind was thinking violent thoughts Azzrix still smiled at the inferior creature before him. "You're a funny one ogre, what is your name, you do have a name right?" he asked with a smile still imagining throwing a knife at him. He took sips of his mead and felt his anger calm down for a bit. He was waiting to see what kind of mission he could take to earn some money and also see if there would be a chance for him to steal from a challenging wealthy person, maybe he would also get an assassination mission. God only knows when he would get a chance to practice his assassin skills on a mission and he wondered how well the others would do on such missions. Azzrix was more interested in working with magic users, muscle was good, but he had plenty of that and anymore stealthy people would mean that he would lose the franchise, he had enough stealth. Magic on other hand he had none of and so getting a good magic user to work with him would open up a whole world of possibility and fencing magical artifacts would get him a really great amount of gold, he's heard stories about some magic guilds being loaded thanks some of them being able to make gold with their magic. Azzrix especially would love to get his hands on the alchemy formula to create gold if it existed, an infinite amount of gold would be very useful for expanding his family's influence and ambitions of his own.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Dat'd be Drubbins." The Ogre announced proudly. "Dats da name..." He quiets down, thinking back. Drubbins didn't have the best memory in the world. He remembered general things, but who's and where's and when's generally leaked out of his head between bosses. He didn't consider this a bad thing, it cleared space for all the new people he'd be putting in his head, but even he wouldn't forget a life changing encounter. "Dats da name I was givin' by Malia Burg, da Source-ress, on account a my big 'ands and what I could do wif 'em."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire listened intently to Historia as she answered her question, nodding slightly here and there. As soon as her...friend, here got her food, Claire worked up the courage to try her own. Clearly far behind Mysaren, she took a few dainty bites of her meal. Honestly she was quite hungry, but she never knew eating any other way. "It certainly is..." Claire stopped to look around the place, choosing a word for the tavern. "Warm." She finished. She regarded the large ogre, now enjoying a drink with the stoic barhand and ratman. Next was the white haired boy with animal ears. He was the source of the magic earlier...The cheery blue, working as she wanted, and another new face. A reptilian man smoking to himself at another seat..."and interesting." She continued before going back to eating. Her food was warm and quite good, not what she was used to, but she was enjoying it so far. As she ate she on and off watched her two companions. They were quite different people, but they didn't seem bad. "Thank you." She added softly, avoiding eye contact. She didn't know what exactly she was thanking them for, but it seemed right.</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) The tavern was certainly getting lively. People were bustling this way and that, mingling with each other, and Kat was just about done with all this for the day. Entertaining characters aside, she was tired. Hunting in the forest all night tended to be a draining experience. Kat knew, tired as she was, any reservations she had about making smartass comments would be all but gone. And Hel could only hold her back so much. "Well," she said with an exaggerated sigh, patting Hel on his great furry head to signal it was time. "This has been a pleasure, my lord," she said to Azzrix, "but I really must be going." Hel got up so Kat could stand. It was time for a nice nap in the forest. She had a permanent room at the tavern, but if the magical mishap had been any indication for the day, it would be too rowdy here to get any rest. On their way out as they weaved through the crowd, Kat saw some people that made her reconsider. The Zizz was out and about, which usually meant a fun time. And Felan had just entered in his quiet way. He wasn't as lively, but Hel was fond enough of him. Kat just gave them both quick nods as she left. When they finally got outside, Hel almost immediately shoved her back through the door. A frantic horse, wild and riderless was thundering towards them. The snow leopard jumped in front of her, baring his fangs and hissing at the mare. The horse slid to a stop, tearing up her front legs with a screech. And then she was turning, dashing away from the two of them. Lowering his hackles, Hel relaxed his stance, while Kat just looked after the horse, eyebrow raised. It was then that she saw the horse's rider, flat on the ground. Glancing at Hel, she walked around her companion to squat next to the man. "Trouble with your horse?" she said slyly, A smirk making its way onto her face. Hel plodded up beside her and nudged him a bit with his nose, sniffing.</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske Although she didn't quite agree, Tahira smiled at the comment about Viggo's music as she sat down in the chair Margaret had offered her. The charm that the witch was referring to intrigued her, as their magic both strayed along a similar path, so she pulled back her hood far enough to expose her amber eyes so that she could see it in detail. Her senses were still upset from the earlier shock, but she could still identify the trinket's energy. She was capable of making her own enchantments, but she preferred keeping them temporary, which meant she wasn't arrayed in enchanted items unless she was going out on one of the few missions that caught her attention. In three months, she had only found a handful of jobs that interested her. Realizing she had been silent for a second longer than was comfortable, Tahira looked up from the charm. "How long have you practiced the arts?" she asked, hesitant at the personal question. However, magic users were so dynamic in skill and knowledge it was natural for her to be curious.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Viggo concludes his ballad and scowls for a minute at the denizens of the tavern, glancing down to find his pail of coins just as full as it had been when he began playing. He grumbles something to himself as he slings his guitar around his back, hopping off the stage and sauntering over to the bar to grab a drink, knowing that for his next song, he'd need his voice to be "well oiled". Putting down a small tower of coins harvested from his donation pail, the bard glances towards Bernard and puts on a guise of friendliness. "Bernard, you stoic son of a bitch, how about a couple of beers" he chimes with a handsome, albeit toothy grin. Assuming he gets his due alcohol, having paid the price in silver, Viggo would return to the stage, sitting down cross legged as he ploughs through the two drinks, abolishing the first in half a minute before swiftly moving onto the next. Once sufficiently drowsed by the beer, Viggo stands once more, kicking the stool backwards and out of the way. Drawing his guitar from his back once more, he adopts a wide-legged stance before he begins to pluck once more at the strings of instrument. The new song begins much like the one before, though after a few seconds the noise of his guitar shifts to become much more metallic and offensive to some ears. The powerful riffs ring out from the instrument with an energetic wave, inspiring courage and vigour in all that listen, unless of course your will is powerful enough to resist Viggo's musical charms. As the song finds its pace, Viggo begins to rock his head up and down with thumping rhythm, causing his hair to flow in time with his movements.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale "You're welcome." Historia told Miss Claire with a smile, though she wasn't quite sure what she was thanking her for? For answering her question was the most likely reason Historia could come up with. As Historia started to eat though, she noticed that Miss Mysaren seemed...well hungry for one thing. She was glad that Miss Mysaren was able to get a meal. But she also seemed, nervous? Scared? A bit of both? Well, that whole commotion with the energy, getting hit with Historia's wings, among the many other exciting things that had happened were probably the cause of it. Historia decided that she had to do something to take her mind off of that. "Um..." Historia said between bites. "My last name is Saurvale. I'm from the floating islands of Anemoi."She paused, taking another bite and trying to figure out what else to say. "I'm currently saving up money to start traveling again. I kind of ran out when I got to this city. In fact, the first day I arrived, I got pickpocketed, which is always wonderful to find out." Historia said with sarcasm before coughing some with the smoke. She waved her hand in front of her face to clear some of the smoke away before continuing. "I found myself in this Tavern, hoping to buy some food. Thankfully, even though I didn't have money, someone was kind enough to pay for my meal. I hope to find the kind patron and pay them back before I leave, though I don't know when that'll be." Historia finished with a smile before shifting her attention to the stage. "The bard is certainly getting more energetic with his tunes isn't he?" She added after a few moments of listening to the song.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren eyed Historia as she spoke, downing her own drink and sighing. Kid was sharing a lot of information to someone she just met. She heard the racket of the band behind her and rolled her eyes, starting to rub her temples. She was going to need a couple more drinks for this. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Mysaren. I was born somewhere and did a lot of things. It's not wise to start spouting life stories to people, kid. People will use it against you, you know. Hopes and dreams." She had done it before, and she didn't like it, not one bit. She shrugged, looking down her cup to see if she had anything left. Nothing. She pushed her plate and cup to the side and spun around, leaning back on the bar. She knew about body language, and if she was going to last a minute in this place, then she would have to look confident. She noticed that the orc, maybe an ogre, was talking to some rat fellow and another man over somewhere else. There was also a lizard guy sitting next to her, blowing smoke all over the bar, smoke that made her feel a bit... weird. She swiped the smoke away with her hand and watched the rest of the bar carefully.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen was laying on the ground. Eyes closed in pain, he sat up and rubbed his head. He felt something nudge him in the side. "No trouble. Although this fault would be mine," he replied and opened an eye towards the stranger. He was greeted with the sight of a large, very large pale cat. "What th-!" he yelled as his face immediately reflected panic and he instinctively jumped away from the predator. His right hand immediately moved to the hilt of the sword on his back. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the figure of a woman. She was dressed in hunting garments typical leather boots, brown pants, and a green garment. The shock in his face was visible as he saw her missing arm."Fabric looks rather plain, probably some local village peasant girl," he thought. Rouen shifed his attention back onto the cat who didn't seem to be in too much of a threatening posture. He moved his hand away from the hilt of his sword and back down. "Um, that creature wouldn't be yours would it villager?" he asked.</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat just stared at him, eyebrow raised, as the stranger's face went through the typical set of expressions people made when faced with her and Hel for the first time. Panic, to shock, to confusion. Yup. Every time. Hel gave a little growl when the man reached for his sword, but he backed off soon enough as he finally began to understand the situation. The stranger then began to look her over, evaluating, and Kat did the same. He was dirty and unshaven, but still clearly someone with some important title – the massive pauldron he wore on his shoulder and the blade he carried spoke to that. So some knight, then. He certainly looked the part under all that grime… he was so big that if he hugged someone, he'd probably squeeze the life right out of them. It's no wonder the horse threw him off, Kat snarked to herself. Poor beast was probably protesting all this weight. She blinked then at his next choice of words. Villager. It'd been a very long time since Kat had belonged to any village. Hel once again raised his hackles at the knight when he called the snow leopard a pet, and Kat just smirked, brushing her fingers through his fur to calm him. "You don't bite him, he won't bite back," she said as an answer. Pushing herself up, she brushed her hand on her pants and looked down at him. Hel took a step in front of her, putting his shoulders between the girl and the knight. Apparently, he was still a bit sore at being called a 'pet.' Some song was playing in the tavern that Kat really didn't care for, but for some reason or other, she was feeling less tired as she stretched her neck. Perhaps a nap in the woods wasn't so necessary after all. "Your horse is long gone, by the way. Probably still running for its life." She eyed him again, lingering on the metal pauldron and oversized sword. Really, oversized was a good word to summarize him as a whole. Have fun lugging yourself to the closest horse trader.</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern Naida sees the look of irritation on his face and cringes. She does not exactly have a filter when it comes to saying things and she is so used to treating people like they are younger than she is. She listens to him for a few moments before answering his question. "Of course we can go inside. The Blue Moon is one of the best taverns in the realm!" Naida's grin gets wide. She leads him inside and flits over to the counter. "I'm assuming, since you're new here, that you probably don't know what to drink. Ask anyone! I will always know what you want to drink even when you don't know it yourself." She flits back over to him, her wings shedding fairy dust and glitter everywhere. She eyes him up and down and circles him before saying, "You could probably use a nice Fey Buster ale. That's a classic here and with a bit of my touch, it will taste like the Gods made it themselves." She grins at him and flies back over the counter. Moving rapidly, she grabs a large ale glass, one big enough for the large man, and begins to fill it with ale. Being back in the Tavern and farther away from the she-demon allows Naida to have her energy back. She moves quickly, sprinkling a little bit of fairy dust in the ale in between mixes and pours. She then shakes the ale up. Because the glass is clear, it is noticeable when the ale changes from a light brown color to more a of golden silvery color. She smiles at the color before flying back over to Rouen and handing him the drink. "Here you go. One of my specialties. Because you're new around here, this one's on the house." She gives him a smile. "It will warm up you right quick and make you feel like a new man." She watches him closely. "If you need a place to stay, we have empty rooms here. A lot of our customers live here actually. We have a homely kind of feel to us." She smiles at him again and waits for him to take a drink. She looks over at Sess and gives him a smile as well. No one has ever not liked her ale, unless it was another fey or mermaid. They have tasted it all before.</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Sessamaru studied the man, and he couldn't help but feel a tingling sensation. This man possessed power and it was tangible, especially to someone closely connected to the Nexus, the source of all energies. Rouen looked strong and held himself with a certain amount of self-importance. Though he was human, Sess knew of humans that could prove to be a threat to peace, whether they meant well or not. This man... Sessamaru felt he needed to keep close attention to him, otherwise the peace he strove for would fall into ruin. Nevertheless, he held his smile, undeterred by his body language. Throughout it all, he did not notice Naida's fingers digging into his arm and when she relieved the pressure to invite the man in, he looked down to his arm. With a shrug, he turned to Katelia and gave her a warm smile. She was a welcome sight to sore eyes, his cautious nature fading away. "Miss Katelia," Sessamaru greeted, then he turned his attention to her ally. "Mister Hel," he added, kneeling and scratching the leopard behind the ears. "Why don't you stay a while? It would be great if you two could enjoy what the Tavern has to offer." Sessamaru rose slowly, turning his attention back onto Naida and the knight. Naida smiled at him as she made the man a Fey Buster Ale, her most famous drink. "This place could use a little livening up, after all!" He laughed, turning back to the young woman. The half-breed outstretched his left hand to her, hoping she would accept his offer to remain.</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan stayed to himself, big surprise there, while he ate his second breakfast as civilly as possible. At some point, he had stopped fooling around with the knife and just skewered large chunks of meat on his fork. But at least he was using a fork. He was near the point of finishing, already thinking of the chores he had at home, when one of the tavern's patrons came over to his table. Felan looked up as a lizard man sat down in front of him. The lizard man. The one he had caught trying to hunt on his land several times. The large man frowned. The reptile began on about some offer he had, each word only digging himself deeper. Felan stared at him with an expression of complete uninterest. The words chosen by the reptile were not very flattering; it was clear that striking deals was not his strong point. When he finally finished, Felan having polished off the last of his meal, the skin changer pushed his plate aside. "I am not a goat, and I am not a child. I would appreciate if you would stop referring to me as one," He said, his voice almost like a growl. He was blatantly displeased. Felan didn't care how old the lizard was. He was a full grown man, and he refused to be called a 'kid', especially by a being who clearly lacked good judgement. "And whatever offer you think you have, you can forget it. I have no care for anything you can provide."</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat caught the silver coin out of reflex – her mind was still trying to process what the knight had said. And then it rammed into her like a charging bear. He… he–! "Hey!" she shouted, suddenly more pissed off than she'd been in a long time. Raising her hand, she put all the force she could into it and threw the coin at the back of the knight's head. She was really better with knives (and had considered grabbing one for a split second and throwing that instead – that'd show this ass who could be 'productive') but her aim was true nonetheless, and the flash of silver darted through the air. Hel was staring after him too, hissing with his tail twitching behind him. If Kat didn't stab this idiot, the snow leopard certainly wouldn't mind taking a crack at him. "Look asshole, I don't give a shit what dukedom or castle or whatever you grew up in, and I don't need your pity," she spat at him. Her fingers were twitching, itching for another thing to throw at him. Her hand drifted to her belt where her knives rested. Gods, it would be satisfying. Hel glanced up at her, very close to letting her throw the knife. The knight certainly deserved it for all he said. But… they were standing too close together, and Kat was really only effective at a distance. The knight was too large, and Kat was too… not. Getting into a fight with this man would only end badly, even with Hel at Kat's side. He couldn't guarantee he could keep the knight away from her if she started something. And thus, Hel jumped between the two, giving Kat a hard stare. Not now. Kat just glared back, because they both knew this guy had it coming. After several tense moments, Kat just gave a huff and looked away, conceding. She looked back up at the knight through narrowed eyes. "You talk to me again, I'm letting my pet tear your throat out." Kat just looked down at the hand Sess offered. It was his left one, which was annoying. She was in a bad mood, and his consideration just aggravated her further. "We know what the tavern has to offer," she hissed back. "We were the ones out all night hunting it down." With that, she brushed past him, Hel following close behind, still glaring at the knight. "Hey Bernie!" she shouted as she shoved her way through the door. "I need a drink."</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Katelia's outburst made Sessamaru take a step back, his expression quizzical. Whoa! She's a powder keg! he thought, worried. However, he held his ground as he approached her once more. When she lashed out at him, an expression of pain flashed across his face. It has nothing to do with you, he reassured himself, knowing she wasn't angry at him. He turned to face the man. Sess was no stranger to judgement, and Rouen's eyes screamed superiority. Katelia's reentrance to the tavern was not a beautiful one, and Sess felt the tension between her and the man. The swordmage felt a much larger surge of power, his eyes widening in alarm. Thinking frantically, he took hurried steps back inside the tavern and... "Ack!" He tripped. He fell forward into a wild roll and faceplanted into the bar. The swordmage felt great pain in his nose and chin, his forehead very sore. He felt something wet on his head, but he was unsure of what it was. [Rupert] Rupert, minding his own wizardly business drinking his magical drink, leaped from his seat with a start, dropping his bottle. The liquid inside poured over a familiar figure's head. He turned, when his near-fatal heart attack ended, and glared at the person. "Dagnabbit, you pup!" He howled, glaring at Sess who was drenched in Regulus Blue, a liquid that was clear with a bluish glow. "First you unleash a wave of magic due to your own stupidity, and now you're wasting my perfectly good mead? I'll have your ears for this!" The old grump went on, sending his ancient foot into Sess's stomach. Upon impact, both Sess and Rupert howled out in pain, the old man hopping around, crying, "my foot! My beautifully aged foot!" Whilst Sess simply lay where he was, dazed after the initial howl.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern Naida grins as Rouen takes his first sip of her famous drink. She squints her eyes and sees his aura electrify with energy and smiles. That fairy dust was from her own personal collection that she collects off her wings and cleans every day so that she can have some to make this drink with. It was a lot of the customers' favorite drink because it gave them energy. Suddenly, she hears a crash behind her and she whips around to see Sessamaru lying on the ground underneath the bar with Rupert's Regulus Blue drink all over him. Rupert then kicks him and she cringes at the howling. She swears under her breath and flits over to Sess, helping him to his feet. She grabs a towel from back behind the bar, creates an ice ball out of the water in the air and wraps the towel around the ice ball, grabbing Sess's hand and placing the towel with the ball in it. She then presses the hand with the towel in it to his stomach and forces him to hold it there before she flits over to Rupert. "Here, take this Rupert!" she says over his yelling. She hands him a similar ice ball in a towel before flitting back over to the spill. She takes a deep breath, sucking in her stomach, and holds out her hands. Silvery glitter flutters from her hand and the mead begins to lift up from the wooden floor. Once she has all of the mead from the cracks of the wood, she grabs the glass that Rupert had and puts the mead back into it, making sure that she gets every drop of it from Sess and from the wood. She pours the ruined mead out and gets Rupert another glass of his mead. She sighs and sets the glass down on the back. She looks over at Sess and says, "I can't leave you for two minutes without you getting into trouble, can I?" she says with a teasing tone.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia was waiting for a response from her acquaintances (was it too soon to call them friends?) when she noticed that things were starting to...well, a ruckus was starting again. In one part of the Tavern, the bard was starting an argument with a red head lady, and in another part...yelling already. Historia turned just in time to see something shiny fly over and hit a knight looking man on the head. oh...this wasn't going to be good. Historia wondered if there was something she could do, as noble's were no stranger to her past, so she started to get up. As she did so, so did the knight...while Mr.Sess tripped nearby, hitting his face right on the bar, then having Mr. Rupurt's drink spilled on him to add insult to injury... before Mr.Rupurt added an extra layer of injury onto that by kicking Mr. Sess in the stomach, causing them both pain. Historia winced a little as she watched Miss Naida start to tend to him, before turning back to the knight. "Oh for the love of..." Not only was he standing there, looking like he was about to kill someone, but it looked like he was going after Miss Kat. Sure, alone, the knight would have probably been too much for Miss Kat, but Miss Kat also had Hel...Historia noticed that the knight took a step forward, towards Miss Kat and Hel and she realized someone had to do something before things got out of hand. Though it probably wasn't the wisest decision she had ever made in her life, Historia decided she would try. "Excuse me for a minute." She said nervously to her companions and quick walked over to in front of (but not too close) to the knight...with her back to Hel. Historia certainly had come full circle when it came to cats today hadn't she... "E-Excuse me M'lord." She stuttered a bit before taking a breath trying to calm down. "I understand that you are upset right now, but we've already had some problems in this tavern today..." She took another breath, "Starting a fight wouldn't do any good right now, and I am sure that a man of stature would be able to put whatever transgression that has went down between you and Miss Kat behind you for the good of the public." Historia bowed a little "I'm sorry if I come off a bit rude and putting my nose where it doesn't belong, but currently this Tavern is my home and I'd like for nothing else to happen in it today."</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan began to tune the lizard out for a bit as the scene behind him caught his attention. Some poor bastard was trying to pick a fight with Kat, the tavern's hunter. He craned his neck to look the offender up and down, an amused smirk briefly gracing his lips. Then the zizz regained his attention. He turned back to the lizard man, a stern frown reappearing on his face. "A wolf?" He asked flatly. "Yes, I've seen it a couple times." Felan was very clearly not impressed by this information. "And I've never had trouble with it, or any wolf for that matter. Maybe if you keep your ass off my land, you won't either." There was almost a threatening undertone there. Felan didn't like killing; he figured every life he took was a little more taken from his own. Unless it was a goblin life, of course. But regardless, he only had so much patience. If the lizard kept slithering around his land, Felan would give him a reason to pack.</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat was still fuming when she practically threw herself into her usual seat, the tavern's strongest drink in hand. Gods, she was pissed. She dealt with idiots all day and didn't get more than annoyed at them, and now this. Where the hell had her composure gone? That was a silly question. She knew exactly where it'd gone: out the door the instant the knight had the nerve to insinuate Kat was some down-on-her-luck waif, unable to do anything without assistance. (Because really, that's exactly what she was, wasn't it?) She was ripped out of her thoughts when she heard Hel growling. The knight was up and glowering, taking a purposeful step towards her. The leopard stood between his charge and this new threat, muscles tensed and ready to spring if the stranger made a move. She took in a breath to mouth off again, but that runt with the mismatched wings shot up, apparently feeling the need to intervene. Kat's eyebrow twitches as she just got more pissed off. Now this twerp thought she needed help, too. "No," she called out. She forced herself to relax in her seat, once again running her fingers through Hel's fur. He just glanced back at her, a questioning look on his face. "Let 'im try what he wants. I wanna see Bernie throw his sorry ass out." That was probably the one reason she'd yet to draw a knife. Kat'd been at the Blue Moon Tavern long enough to know how bar fights ended.</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia let out quite the audible sigh when she realized that this knight was most likely not going to cause any trouble now. Which was good, because he had been gathering up electricity (was that his magic?) and that was one of the things that really didn't mix well with Historia. But thankfully Historia had been right in her assumptions of how this nobleman would act if she reached out to his better nature as humbly as she could. Compared to the look of ready to kill someone that he had when Historia stepped in (and she had no idea why she hadn't stepped right back out at that point) to the look now that he was going over to help Mr. Sess at the bar, it was clear to her that she had done the right thing. Even if it did annoy Miss Kat. Speaking of which, Historia turned around and took a few steps towards Miss Kat (while being weary of Hel's reaction) and said, "Pardon my intervention Miss Kat. I know how strong you are, and with Hel, there's not a lot that either of you can't do. But many of us here in the Tavern are tired of fighting for the day and Mr. Bernard would probably like it if he didn't have to break up another fight in here." She started to turn but then added, "I'll try to keep to myself the next time though..." with that she turned back to her seat, walking back and sitting down between Claire and Mysaren. "Sorry about that." Historia said, a little embarrassed. "So um...what were we talking about?"</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was still drinking when he saw the altercation go on between Kat and the newcomer. Had he not drank so much then he would have tried to break it up, but the alcohol made the idea of fight seem entertaining and he was tempted to start cheering them on, but Historia intervened, which was a bit of a surprise since she seemed very shy to him, but she actually went up to talk to a big swordsmen who seemed to have electrical powers. "Very well, little lady. I must thank you for reminding my of my post. After all manners do make the man," he said looking at her. "I shall cause no further trouble in your abode, have a good day." he heard Rouen say, he already liked this newcomer already. It was a rare thing to find such discipline, he had to be of noble birth to have manners like that Azzrix thought to himself, maybe they could work together eventually, he never objected to having more muscle in his party. He walked over to where Historia, Claire and Mysaren were sitting to start up a conversation. "That was an admirible attempt at ending their argument before it became a fight" he said to Historia. He then looked at the other two with her and gave a polite bow. "Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Azzrix Grimmor. I am paying for all of the drinks so please drink whatever you like. I hope that we can do business sometime in the near future" he said to them with a smile.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren nodded. Yes, she just wanted to show concern for Historia, that's all. She had seen too many good kids lose everything just because they got a bit too hopeful. "I just don't wish to be rude, Historia," She said after a while, her voice low and dark, "just remember that bad things can happen to good people. Watch out for yourself. At least you have me now, yeah?" At the last sentence, she grinned again, sighing and watching the patrons of the bar. "A tour?" She said, considering the possibility. Yes, a tour would be very nice. All she knew about was the tavern and the graveyard, but knowing of the other houses and buildings, especially a shop to sell her wares, would be very useful to know about. Especially anywhere she could run to in case of trouble, or in case that she needed to grab a lot of items and get the hell out of town, which had happened a few times. The guards would be called, she would grab everything she can within the nearest big house she could find, and she fled, never to be seen again. Mysaren paid little attention to the fight about to start, even when Historia got involved. She could say with about 90% accuracy that no one would've died from the fight, at least not within the first while of it. Historia handled it surprisingly well, in a more diplomatic way than she would've. Historia spoke and Mysaren looked at her. "Uhm, tour around town, things like that. That would be very useful, thank you, Historia." She didn't like that she was making friends at this point. Friends just kept her in town longer, and if she wasn't on the move constantly, someone would finally catch up to her, and thus ends the story of Mysaren. Mysaren looked up as Azzrix introduced himself, raising an eyebrow and watching him carefully. "Mysaren. Pleasure." She said rather bluntly, something off about the man in front of her. He seemed shady to her, and she didn't exactly feel like trusting him right now. Ah, what the hell, benefit of the doubt, right? She still looked wary as he spoke. "Thank you for the drinks, Azzrix, but tell me, what business did you have in mind?"</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Rupert] Rupert hopped around for a good while until Naida came by with a ball of ice wrapped in a towel. However, when she handed it to the old man, he was too unfocused to keep a hold of the item, causing it to fall onto his other foot. "Yow!" He cried, slamming his other foot down and raising the other one to hold. However, his face lit up like a flame and he dropped the other foot to grasp the other, continuing this as he cried and cursed. This continued for a good while, causing Rupert to hop around the entire bar switching feet as he hopped around. [Sessamaru] The half-breed looked at Naida as she helped him hold the ball of ice over his stomach as she help raised him to his feet, and he smiled, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. "Indeed, Miss Naida," he told her, laughing. "I feel bad for Mister Rupert, though. He will not get to enjoy his drink for a good while." Sessamaru stood up right and placed the ice-towel onto the bar, scratching the back of his head; an unorthodox habit of his. "Honestly though, I am quite fine. Nothing more than a bit of shock." He explained, his smile becoming a wide grin. However, the moment the sentence ended, his stomach let out a ferocious growl, reminiscent of a jungle cat! The half-breed bent forward, holding his stomach. "Except that," he groaned. "Miss Naida, may I have some food, please?" Sess asked, his stomach once again growling with hunger. This ground made the fox-eared youth sink to the floor. Already he could smell the food in the kitchen, causing yet another roar from his stomach. "Ugh..." he moaned, attempting to crawl his way up a stool. "Fooooooood..."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "...Y'sure 'bout that, mister?" Rimau asked, quizically turning his eyes upward as if to actually look quite worried about his Sheep. Of course it wasn't really that bad; there's lots more Sheep in the world. "...Okay, if y'say so. I do believe we live in a... 'democracy' 'ere." He said, recognising the man's choice as an adult, but at the same time making an 'inverted commas' gesture when he said 'democracy'; something of a foreign and kind of silly concept to the old Zizz. "Jus' remember, if that big-ass canid starts a lil' bloodbath at y'pasture, you come an' see me." The Zizz concluded with confidence that this would not be the last Felan heard about this, taking another puff into Felan's big, humourless face before he pulled his chair away, clambering back to the floor. "'Ave a superb day, mister." Soon after that was over with, he found himself turning back to witness that other old guy at the bar, the one that always complained about literally everything. Seemed like he was doing some kind of ritual dance, going 'wowowowow' like some kind a... he didn't even know what. "What in Gekko's name... pffffftthehehehe!" He muttered in response, causing him to clinch his gut in his stifled laughter as he walked over to the bar again, coughing as he approached another barstool. Clambering back up to the bar, he noticed the Rodent was still there, still making himself look like a fool, it seemed. Even better, Naida had returned, though she was still talking with that dog-eared kid. "'Ey, Naida, m'lady, y'back!" He said pleasantly, putting on his toothy grin again. "Terribly sorry for the ramblin' again, but I still 'aven't 'ad m'juice. But no rush. By th'way, what in th'ell was up w'that dumb-ass back there, the one with th'big-ass compensator sword?" He asked, pointing towards said dumb-ass, who for some reason was still standing even after the crazy cat lady had yelled at him. From what he had gathered, when the crazy cat lady got mad, she tended to hurt people. Then again... newfangled suppression field.</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) "Tch." Damn right the brat should keep to herself. Now Kat was just a bundle of aggravation and nerves with no way to relieve it all. Suddenly, she grabbed a knife from her belt, and her arm shot forward, knife flying through the air. The blade embedded itself several inches deep into the adjacent tavern wall. She doubted Bernard would be pleased, but she was too caught up in her own emotions to care at the moment. Besides, Bernie was never pleased – not that Kat could tell, at least. Hel started a bit when Kat took out her aggravations on the wall, and looked back at her. With no more threats to deal with, he turned his full attention back to her, nudging her leg with a paw and resting his large head on her lap, making small noises in the back of his throat. Kat ran a hand over her face and heaved a sigh. "Yeah, I know," she said in a low voice. This was ridiculous. She shouldn't have been this worked up. She gave him a pat on the head and then pulled a small copper coin out of her pocket. Still buzzing with energy, she balanced the coin on the back of her first finger and began turning it over from one finger to the next, back and forth.</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat blinked when the priest's words finally trickled in through her 'annoying shit I don't need to hear' filter. "However, it is being guarded by Drakas, Remnants from the continent of Shoba." She very nearly slammed the paper back onto the board then and there. Remnants… After what happened last time, Kat'd done all she could to avoid them. Memories surfaced through a fog: a Remant's shriek, pain like fire igniting her blood, a snow leopard's yowl… she felt her breath catch in her throat at the idea of facing one again. She felt like a child, letting herself be paralyzed so, but she couldn't bring herself back from her reaction. Hel watched her with a heavy gaze, sensing her unrest. A new voice cut through the air, jolting her out of her thoughts. It was the witch, Tahira, asking to come along on the quest Kat'd just claimed. She was half tempted to just shove the paper at the other woman and tell her to do it on her own, but she hesitated. Kat eyed her, and looked back at Hel. The great cat's tail swayed easily behind him, back and forth, measuring the seconds. Kat remembered the silver coin the knight had given her, and how he'd reassured her she could live a fulfilling life in spite of her 'impairment.' She remembered how easily Hel had killed the boar they'd spent the night hunting, carrying it on his back all the way to the tavern, never slowing or tiring, or needing any help at all. She remembered the memories she'd long trained herself to not think on, and the feeling of helplessness that came with them. It was a feeling that had once been alien to her. Kat's gaze focused then, and she turned back to Tahira. "Come along if you want," she replied, her voice bored and uncaring as ever. "Guess you're a better pick than most of these other idiots." The witch was… unsettling, but she had yet to do anything to annoy Kat. Hel didn't trust her, but that didn't say much. Hel rarely trusted anyone. Besides, she was almost as big a mystery to Kat as Bernard was, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't the least bit curious. That's what Kat thought, at least, when she asked herself why now of all times she accepted the idea of another companion on a job.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia watched as not only Mr. Grimmor left the group, but also Miss Mysaren followed suit as well, both of them going over to look for jobs at the board. "Uh, bye?" She called out to them before sitting back in her seat, continuing sipping on the drink Bernard was kind enough to give to her. She watched as the two found jobs and partners for themselves (or in Mr. Grimmor's case, rushing out the door to find his partners). Historia began to wonder if there would be that many jobs left as she watched people still look at all the jobs at the boards. Well, all the well paying jobs would most likely be taken, the ones that had higher difficulty. Historia didn't usually take those jobs, mainly cause she wasn't a very strong fighter. She preferred easier, albeit less paying most of the time, jobs. Historia looked at Miss Claire when she spoke up, asking about looking at the board. "Yes, I was going to take a look at the board anyways. It'd be nice to see what you might want to do as well." Historia told her with a smile as she got up and walked over with her to the board. There was only three jobs that really interested Histoira. A missing memory book that could be anywhere in the city, a quest to find a teenage thief, and a quest to find a lost dog. The dog one would most likely be the easiest to do for Historia as she could just fly above the city and look for it that way. But Miss Claire couldn't fly so that one was out of the question. AS for the one with the thief, Historia didn't really want to get involved with a quest that had a really good chance of confronting someone that might fight back. So for now, that also wasn't a good option. That left the memory book. That was something that she and Claire could do rather easily, and the quest giver was a nobleman so they might get paid decently after all. "Does this sound good to you?" Historia asked Miss Claire as she handed her the paper to look at.</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske "Come along if you want," she replied, her voice bored and uncaring as ever. "Guess you're a better pick than most of these other idiots." Kat was clearly on edge. Tahira was not an expert on interpreting body language, but the leopard was eyeing her master uneasily and, considering how close the two were, that was the only cue she needed to sense the woman's discomfort. However, she had long ago learned when it was best to stifle her curiosity. As long as it did not interfere with their mission, the diminutive woman's issues were none of her concern. Cocking her head to the side, she recalled something that might be of use to the two of them. "I believe the library holds a tome which refers to these 'Drakas' at some length," Tahira said. "You can make ready to depart while I retrieve it." Turning her back on the duo, she moved away from the job board and went through the door to the library. Her fingers traced a path along the spine of several books as she moved up and down the shelves, seeking the one she had mentioned. [i]Ah, there[i]. Her hand touched the well-worn bindings of a tome which was simply entitled On Shoba, and penned by an unknown scholar on the subject. She had yet to read it, but its inclusion in the tavern's surprisingly extensive library lent something to its credibility, so she removed it from the shelf, making a note of where it belonged. Leaving the library as quickly as she had entered, she ascended to the second floor to receive the leather satchel that hung from a hook in the wall of her room. Slipping the book into one of its pockets, she returned to the place she had left Kat, satisfied she was prepared.</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat stood where Tahira left her for a moment, staring after the woman as she made her way to the library. Stuffing any memories she had down, she thought on the witch. She was a fair sort, didn't talk down to either Kat or Hel, smart, probably useful if you had her on your side… but something about her made Kat want to always know where she was. It was probably just her stoicism and ethereal nature that peaked Kat's curiosity, but still. She looked back to Hel, and said "Watch her, yeah?" This probably meant that any vindictive plans Kat had been concocting were off limits in regards to the jewel. She didn't know much about Tahira, but she struck her as someone respectful and dutiful. She'd probably frown on how Kat was not. The two made their way to their room in the tavern and Kat scooped up her bag, tossing things in or out of it as she thought of what they might need. Once they were done, they walked back to the kitchen and grabbed some handfuls of dried meat ("We killed it, we can take it," she called back to a waitress glaring at them) and filled her water flask from the tap. After that, they made their way back to the area by the board, Tahira already waiting for them. "You ready?" she asked.</s>
<\|description\|>Viggo Malmsteen Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 29 Occupation: Bard Personality/Interests: Viggo is an egotistical, nihilistic, and self-destructive person who lives only for self enjoyment. Reveling in the pleasures of life he has little care for trivialities like "responsibility" or "consequences". However, despite his faults, Viggo is utterly dedicated to his music career, and has no lack of discipline when it comes to practising his guitar or vocal talents. Appearance: Viggo is a tall and lithe person, with hints of muscularity in his arms and chest. Body build: As mentioned above, he is thin, but now scrawny, and tall for a human, standing at around 6'2. Hair: Viggo's pale golden hair flows down past his chest, and is light enough to majestically billow in a soft breeze. Skin color: This bard is unremarkably pale, little else to say here. Eye/Iris color: Viggo often wears dark paint around the sockets of his eyes, but his irises are a deep blue. Height/Weight: 6'2 / 155lbs Notable Features: Viggo often wears a cologne concocted from sweet smelling herbs and flowers, giving him an aroma that masks the smell of booze that perpetually floats around him. Clothing Description: Viggo wears a black sleeveless top when indoors, and adopts a larger longsleeved cloak of a similar colour when outside. His breeches are slightly greyer, but generally match stylistically with the rest of his outfit. Equipment: Viggo's prized possession is his guitar, as it so no ordinary device. Unlike most string instruments, Viggo's guitar is modified with socketed black crystals and panels of metal that run along the body and up into the neck. When the strings are thrashed, the instrument rings out a much harsher but powerful noise (ie. the noise of an electric guitar). However, the guitar's strings can still be plucked softly to mimic the sound of a lute or traditional (acoustic) guitar. The inner workings of the instrument are known to Viggo alone. Weapon(s): Viggo, by habit, carries a small dagger with him. Powers While Viggo's skill at guitar does stem from years of practise, he rightfully sees himself as a natural, and has been proficient with musical instruments from a young age. Abilities: Viggo is human, and therefore possesses few abnormal traits. Talents: Viggo is a masterful guitarist, and according to himself, the best in the world. He is also an incredible drinker, and known to rival dwarves in the amount of alcohol he can pump into his body before needing the help of a healer. Magic: While Viggo is not a mage or wizard by any standards, his knowledge of the arcane has allowed him to blend magic into his music, as such, Viggo's playing tends to have bizarre effects on people. Depending on the tempo, melody, and theme of the song, Viggo can slowly turn a group of people against one another, or make a situation calmer by lulling everyone into a state of peace and tranquility. Certain riffs can also summon dread or pain in individuals, though the effects of the spell are quickly broken if Viggo stops playing. History: (Read Rule VI.)</s> <\|message\|>Margaret von Eisenberg The Inn was still waking up and the day was beginning when a moaning heap shifted at a table far in the corner. Margaret felt like she had two heads, her normal one and one on the inside of it, much bigger and pushing out on her own head in all directions. The ale she could down with ease, but the liquors at the Inn she could have sworn were made out of divine tears. Blinking her eyes as the morning light mercilessly assaulted them and sent a few more stabbing sensations through her skull, the witch winces as she raised her face from the table she passed out at last night. It would appear the drinking got out of hand again. Well, she did always believe the body shouldn't go to the grave unused. Patting her side to check her satchel was still there and intact, she ran a hand through her red mane and looked around. The people were still sparse, much like any serious work opportunity lately. It was what lead her to this place. She heard from a few other mercs one could live here in return for service alone, which was exactly what she needed for now. Her wares sold here as well, many adventurers in need of a good healing salve or a magic dissolving charm coming through. However there was no thrill in it. She didn't come here to turn into a merchant. But luck was not on her side so she had to find the cure for the boredom on the bottom of the glass. Even the quick glance over to the mission board confirmed her suspicion. It even got taken down for the frame to be repaired! Margaret was itching to get out and bash some heads - right after soaking her own in a barrel of cold water - but the Gods just didn't want her out there. Even her cards agreed. Last night she drawn them for herself, and ended up with 'The Fool', 'The Magician', and 'Temperance'. Much to her dismay, over the time she noticed the combination of the fool and the magician usually indicated her self. And in this particular interpretation, she took Temperance for Boredom. Things were looking grim.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Katelia trudged towards the tavern beside Hel, her massive companion. The two had spent the night hunting, and now had a great boar draped over the snow leopard's back to show for their efforts. The flaming sky, painted in the sunrise, mirrored the blood still dripping from the fresh kill, staining Hel's coat and the ground beneath them. Really, the boar was the only reason Kat wasn't having Hel carry her now. She had no interest sitting behind that stinking beast. While the two companions made for an odd scene – a small girl with a missing arm, midnight skin, and snowy eyes and hair, and her huge, menacing snow leopard carrying a still-warm carcass – the townspeople they passed had long since grown accustomed to them. This was a trek the two made once every few days for the past year and a half, and though they still garnered some stares and whispers, people had accepted them as just a couple more characters that colored their world. "Hey Bernie," Kat called as she pushed the back entrance to the tavern open, "got your new supply." She wasn't actually sure if the old proprietor liked it when she called him that. Kat had started using the nickname in the hopes that he wouldn't. Testing your landlord/employer probably wasn't the wisest move, but Kat just couldn't figure the old codger out. Really, what the heck was his deal? Hel shrugged the boar off of his shoulders in the backroom and it landed with a great whump, blood no doubt staining the floor. This, too, Kat had him do intentionally. Most would yell or scold at their floor being seeped with blood, but this guy… Kat just shrugged her shoulders, once again deciding to leave the mystery of the Blue Moon Tavern proprietor for another day. Glancing around, she saw that the sprite waitress wasn't anywhere to be found yet. She was right annoying, but at least Kat knew what to make of her. Plus, she was fun to ruffle. Kat turned to the kitchen sink and began the process of rinsing off her hand and splashing water on her face. After that she grabbed an old rag to wipe down Hel (who always tried to swat her away whenever she did this). Finally rid of the blood, she grabbed an apple out of a barrel and turned to leave the kitchen to go to the front of the tavern. "Later, Bernie," she called behind her, Hel following her with his heavy footfalls. The two made their way to a table against a wall. Kat dropped herself into a chair, swinging her feet up on top of the table and leaning back in a move that could only be called 'unconcerned.' Hel settled himself at her side, resting his massive head on his paws, and the two watched as the tavern began to fill up for the day, Kat slowly eating her apple.</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Bernard] The barkeep stared at Claire for a short moment, turned and rang a silver bell that he had kept in his pocket. It did not take long for the chef to come out of the kitchen to appear before Bernard. The chef was an ordinary human with a large belly and a jovial face, his hair black and long, made into two braids. His hat was a traditional muffin-top, white like the rest of his clothing. The ever smiling chef waited until Bernard gestured with his thumb to the girl, grunting "Claire." The chef nodded and swiftly returned to the kitchen. The kitchen became alive with a racket befitting of an angry chef yelling at his lazy underlings, all of them rushing to prepare a meal. Bernard, expressionless, turned back to the entirety of the tavern and waited. Then, Katelia burst through the doors with a giant boar and her pet cat. She called him Bernie, and once more there was no reaction. He grunted when she dropped the boar. For the first time that day, Bernard moved and made his way towards the boar whilst Katelia went to the kitchen, retrieving the thing with a single hand, lifting it over his shoulders by the back leg and taking it to the kitchen. He ignored her as he passed by and tossed it nonchalantly into the Ice Room. Bernard left the Ice Room, the kitchen, and returned to his station, standing there as he watched the door, the patrons, and everything else. When Katelia returned from the kitchen, he nodded as she returned to her usual spot, remaining where he was as he rang a brass bell from within his pocket. The other waitresses in the tavern went to Bernard, who gestured to the blood on the floor. They went to work emphatically, not wanting to question Bernard. Not that they would get anything out of him besides a single syllable or a grunt.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren Location: Blue Moon Tavern Mysaren shifted through her money uncertainly, counting carefully. Yeah, she had plenty. She looked up to see a young woman with big wings, one black, one brown. She had longer hair, but it was neatly kept up, and apparently, the woman's name was Historia. She smiled smoothly, taking Historia's hand in hers. Historia was also significantly smaller than her, she could tell that much. "Pleasure to meet you, Historia. My name's Mysaren," She said, her accent thick but her voice was still steady and clear, "I don't mind at all. I rather enjoy the company." Historia seemed kind enough, maybe a bit naive to randomly approach someone in a tavern, especially someone sitting in the corner who smelled awful and was covered in dirt. She didn't mind, though, and always enjoyed a bit of conversation. She got up and went to sit up at the bar, sitting next to Historia, who was talking to someone else right now. She waited patiently for Historia to notice that she had sat up there. She would ask for a drink, but the barkeep... the barkeep was a bit scary. She was still on alert though, her eyes darting around the tavern. The place gave off a weird vibe to her, like it was almost too nice to be true. It was perfectly comfortable though, and she found herself slowly starting to relax. Maybe she was just overreacting, having been in far too many backwater inns where a death was always around the corner. She tapped her index finger on the table as looked around, noticing a girl coming in with a rather large cat of some sort. Her sword was still resting comfortably on her belt, and she wouldn't hesitate to draw it at the first sign of trouble, but after glancing over at the owner, her blood lust faded just as quickly as it had come. Something about the owner, or at least, the man she assumed was the owner, scared her. She didn't like feeling so scared, but something about the blank look on his face made her feel nervous, and she dealt with corpses for a living.</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire tried to nod to the chef as some form of thankful recognition, but he was gone to work before their eyes could meet. She let her eyes trail back to the interior, a winged girl who had just sat down near her, was now walking towards one wall of the tavern. Claire watched as she went and fearlessly spoke with a stranger. An armed stranger. As the girl seemed to start walking back, Claire jerked her head down. Starring was rude. A friendly voice to her side drew her eyes back up in mere seconds though. The same winged girl was sitting next to her, a warm smile on her lips. "Oh.." Claire muttered mindlessly. "Ah...My name is...Claire." She looked the girl up and down, taking in a few more details now that she wasn't moving. An interesting soul, to be sure. "No I don't mind...I was just hoping for company actually." A sort of lie, but she didn't wan't to push this girl away. She seemed quite nice. Claire looked past her new conversation partner to eye the other girl Historia had spoken to. It seems they were also invited over. Interesting... Almost as interesting as the one armed girl with a panther. That would be hard to beat though. She walked through the inner workings of the business with some obvious comfort, and went to sit with her...pet. Claire studied them for a moment. Interesting, interesting, interesting. "I have some food coming...if you don't mind." She mentioned to Historia. Some found it odd when one person ate in a group of others who didn't, and she didn't know if this winged fellow had any of her own coming or not. Not to mention the shifty third party in their little group. She regarded again the girl who was now sitting next to Historia, they seemed to be busy looking for a chance to ask the barkeep something. Maybe she would wait until they spoke first...</s>	<\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Malmsteen exits the lavatory, readjusting his belt as he looks at the newly repopulated tavern. His cruel gaze falls upon each member of the tavern in turn, judging everyone silently as he makes his way to the makeshift stage in the corner of the main floor. Grabbing a small stool as he passes, Viggo climbs onto the stage and takes his guitar off his back, saddling it across his chest. Once on stage, the pale musician sits and sheds his heavy black-leather jacket, letting it crumple to the ground behind him. Clearing his throat once, Viggo begins to tune his instrument, letting the strings twang softly as their pitch raises and lowers. After a few minutes of housekeeping, Viggo runs his calloused palm across the neck of his remarkable guitar, and begins to play. The melody is plucky and sharp, but has a certain harmony to it. The song rises and falls as Viggo's fingers climb up and down the neck of his instrument, his blond hair cascading forward and hiding his face as he continues to play the tune. The sophistication of the jaunty little ballad would inspire a foot-tap from anyone in a decent enough mood, and generally provides the otherwise quiet establishment with a pleasant and relaxing atmosphere. 'I bet none of these losers even recognise this as Zwelf's Fourth Ballad' he thinks to himself as he continues to play, 'Bah, to hell with such thoughts, I don't need their compliments or musical taste, only their coin...' he muses quietly, grinning as he continues to pluck at his fantastical guitar. After a little while, his song concludes, giving Viggo a chance to kick forward a small pail with a few shillings and silver pieces in it.</s>
<\|description\|>Viggo Malmsteen Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 29 Occupation: Bard Personality/Interests: Viggo is an egotistical, nihilistic, and self-destructive person who lives only for self enjoyment. Reveling in the pleasures of life he has little care for trivialities like "responsibility" or "consequences". However, despite his faults, Viggo is utterly dedicated to his music career, and has no lack of discipline when it comes to practising his guitar or vocal talents. Appearance: Viggo is a tall and lithe person, with hints of muscularity in his arms and chest. Body build: As mentioned above, he is thin, but now scrawny, and tall for a human, standing at around 6'2. Hair: Viggo's pale golden hair flows down past his chest, and is light enough to majestically billow in a soft breeze. Skin color: This bard is unremarkably pale, little else to say here. Eye/Iris color: Viggo often wears dark paint around the sockets of his eyes, but his irises are a deep blue. Height/Weight: 6'2 / 155lbs Notable Features: Viggo often wears a cologne concocted from sweet smelling herbs and flowers, giving him an aroma that masks the smell of booze that perpetually floats around him. Clothing Description: Viggo wears a black sleeveless top when indoors, and adopts a larger longsleeved cloak of a similar colour when outside. His breeches are slightly greyer, but generally match stylistically with the rest of his outfit. Equipment: Viggo's prized possession is his guitar, as it so no ordinary device. Unlike most string instruments, Viggo's guitar is modified with socketed black crystals and panels of metal that run along the body and up into the neck. When the strings are thrashed, the instrument rings out a much harsher but powerful noise (ie. the noise of an electric guitar). However, the guitar's strings can still be plucked softly to mimic the sound of a lute or traditional (acoustic) guitar. The inner workings of the instrument are known to Viggo alone. Weapon(s): Viggo, by habit, carries a small dagger with him. Powers While Viggo's skill at guitar does stem from years of practise, he rightfully sees himself as a natural, and has been proficient with musical instruments from a young age. Abilities: Viggo is human, and therefore possesses few abnormal traits. Talents: Viggo is a masterful guitarist, and according to himself, the best in the world. He is also an incredible drinker, and known to rival dwarves in the amount of alcohol he can pump into his body before needing the help of a healer. Magic: While Viggo is not a mage or wizard by any standards, his knowledge of the arcane has allowed him to blend magic into his music, as such, Viggo's playing tends to have bizarre effects on people. Depending on the tempo, melody, and theme of the song, Viggo can slowly turn a group of people against one another, or make a situation calmer by lulling everyone into a state of peace and tranquility. Certain riffs can also summon dread or pain in individuals, though the effects of the spell are quickly broken if Viggo stops playing. History: (Read Rule VI.)</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku The old Zizz soon descended the stairs and entered the main room of the tavern, scanning his head from left to right. It was considerably busier than usual this morning, he noticed. Lots of strange folk hanging around, too. There was some fancy-pants Rodent hanging about; could've sworn he's seen that one before. But there was something even stranger next to him; a giant Ogre was standing there with a pint in his hand (seemed like a woefully inadequate amount for a creature of his size), laughing in the Rodent's face. He couldn't see the Rodent's face, and that was a shame, because he'd probably have been putting on a funny expression. Off in one of the corners, he squinted at the redhead witch hanging about in the shade. It wasn't an evil squint, mind you, but a competitive squint; he had been at the tavern for about a week now, and had had ample opportunity to acquaint himself with that one. He couldn't help but admire her ingenuity with that Crossbow of hers. She could prove problematic if any big-time mercenary work pops up, with all that old-school magic of hers. Cheating? Yes, but only if you got caught. Then there was that Sheep herder at one of the tables. Best ignore that one, he thought. He'd been sneaking about 'his' land again, and he didn't seem to have a good sense of humour. The sort of person who'd go nuts if you so much as mentioned the idea of controlling animal population. Which was a shame, given the enormous Wolf he'd spotted in the area. That was going to prove quite the prize, when he had some free time. What was particularly irritating at this time in the morning, though, was the sheer business of the place. The Zizz usually sat in one of the comfy seats off in the corner somewhere, but it seemed like that area was flooded with young fools getting drunk at nine A.M., or whatever time it was. Morons! They'd probably end up dead before the day was done, he thought as he chuckled to himself slightly, though not forgetting his irritation. As a result of these morons, however, the Zizz was forced to manuever his way past quite a few patrons (not an easy task thanks to his height and tail swaying about) and clamber up on top a lone stool at the bar, somewhere he rarely ever sat. There was a good reason for this, which made itself apparent pretty soon. Ignoring the great wall that was the Ogre to his left, he rummaged about in one of his belt pockets to retrieve his prized Pipe, made of dark wood as per usual Zizz preference. Removing the little cap to stop all the pre-packed 'medicinal' herbs from falling out, he removed a match from the same pocket and attempted to strike it against the bar. No luck. He tried it again, and again, and about six more 'agains' before he could finally squeeze a little flame off it, grumbling to himself the entire time. That was another weird thing about the tavern; it always took more effort to light matches. Some sort of newfangled suppression field, perhaps, which might also explain the sheer lack of the usual bar fights he'd seen in... just about every other tavern he'd been to. Except the ones in Tarzblik, obviously. For entirely different reasons. Finally, he stuck his Pipe in his toothy mouth and lit it with the match, waving it about afterwards to turn the fire into a little smoke puff. Of course, that was nothing compared to what happened afterwards as the Zizz began to actually smoke said Pipe, releasing much bigger puffs of smoke which spread across the bar. Of course the Zizz didn't particularly care for any inconvenience this may cause, since the calming herbal sensation had him captivated. It was enough to make him grin again, in that classic terrifying fashion Zizz were known for.</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was slightly disappointed that Kat hadn't taken the mug he had offered, but she did already have one. He then heard the orge's response and even though he kept a straight face Azzrix had a vein bulging on his head. How dare this creature make his offer of help a game, if he wasn't of noble birth then he would have taken this beast's head. Even though his mind was thinking violent thoughts Azzrix still smiled at the inferior creature before him. "You're a funny one ogre, what is your name, you do have a name right?" he asked with a smile still imagining throwing a knife at him. He took sips of his mead and felt his anger calm down for a bit. He was waiting to see what kind of mission he could take to earn some money and also see if there would be a chance for him to steal from a challenging wealthy person, maybe he would also get an assassination mission. God only knows when he would get a chance to practice his assassin skills on a mission and he wondered how well the others would do on such missions. Azzrix was more interested in working with magic users, muscle was good, but he had plenty of that and anymore stealthy people would mean that he would lose the franchise, he had enough stealth. Magic on other hand he had none of and so getting a good magic user to work with him would open up a whole world of possibility and fencing magical artifacts would get him a really great amount of gold, he's heard stories about some magic guilds being loaded thanks some of them being able to make gold with their magic. Azzrix especially would love to get his hands on the alchemy formula to create gold if it existed, an infinite amount of gold would be very useful for expanding his family's influence and ambitions of his own.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Dat'd be Drubbins." The Ogre announced proudly. "Dats da name..." He quiets down, thinking back. Drubbins didn't have the best memory in the world. He remembered general things, but who's and where's and when's generally leaked out of his head between bosses. He didn't consider this a bad thing, it cleared space for all the new people he'd be putting in his head, but even he wouldn't forget a life changing encounter. "Dats da name I was givin' by Malia Burg, da Source-ress, on account a my big 'ands and what I could do wif 'em."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire listened intently to Historia as she answered her question, nodding slightly here and there. As soon as her...friend, here got her food, Claire worked up the courage to try her own. Clearly far behind Mysaren, she took a few dainty bites of her meal. Honestly she was quite hungry, but she never knew eating any other way. "It certainly is..." Claire stopped to look around the place, choosing a word for the tavern. "Warm." She finished. She regarded the large ogre, now enjoying a drink with the stoic barhand and ratman. Next was the white haired boy with animal ears. He was the source of the magic earlier...The cheery blue, working as she wanted, and another new face. A reptilian man smoking to himself at another seat..."and interesting." She continued before going back to eating. Her food was warm and quite good, not what she was used to, but she was enjoying it so far. As she ate she on and off watched her two companions. They were quite different people, but they didn't seem bad. "Thank you." She added softly, avoiding eye contact. She didn't know what exactly she was thanking them for, but it seemed right.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) The tavern was certainly getting lively. People were bustling this way and that, mingling with each other, and Kat was just about done with all this for the day. Entertaining characters aside, she was tired. Hunting in the forest all night tended to be a draining experience. Kat knew, tired as she was, any reservations she had about making smartass comments would be all but gone. And Hel could only hold her back so much. "Well," she said with an exaggerated sigh, patting Hel on his great furry head to signal it was time. "This has been a pleasure, my lord," she said to Azzrix, "but I really must be going." Hel got up so Kat could stand. It was time for a nice nap in the forest. She had a permanent room at the tavern, but if the magical mishap had been any indication for the day, it would be too rowdy here to get any rest. On their way out as they weaved through the crowd, Kat saw some people that made her reconsider. The Zizz was out and about, which usually meant a fun time. And Felan had just entered in his quiet way. He wasn't as lively, but Hel was fond enough of him. Kat just gave them both quick nods as she left. When they finally got outside, Hel almost immediately shoved her back through the door. A frantic horse, wild and riderless was thundering towards them. The snow leopard jumped in front of her, baring his fangs and hissing at the mare. The horse slid to a stop, tearing up her front legs with a screech. And then she was turning, dashing away from the two of them. Lowering his hackles, Hel relaxed his stance, while Kat just looked after the horse, eyebrow raised. It was then that she saw the horse's rider, flat on the ground. Glancing at Hel, she walked around her companion to squat next to the man. "Trouble with your horse?" she said slyly, A smirk making its way onto her face. Hel plodded up beside her and nudged him a bit with his nose, sniffing.</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske Although she didn't quite agree, Tahira smiled at the comment about Viggo's music as she sat down in the chair Margaret had offered her. The charm that the witch was referring to intrigued her, as their magic both strayed along a similar path, so she pulled back her hood far enough to expose her amber eyes so that she could see it in detail. Her senses were still upset from the earlier shock, but she could still identify the trinket's energy. She was capable of making her own enchantments, but she preferred keeping them temporary, which meant she wasn't arrayed in enchanted items unless she was going out on one of the few missions that caught her attention. In three months, she had only found a handful of jobs that interested her. Realizing she had been silent for a second longer than was comfortable, Tahira looked up from the charm. "How long have you practiced the arts?" she asked, hesitant at the personal question. However, magic users were so dynamic in skill and knowledge it was natural for her to be curious.</s>	<\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Viggo concludes his ballad and scowls for a minute at the denizens of the tavern, glancing down to find his pail of coins just as full as it had been when he began playing. He grumbles something to himself as he slings his guitar around his back, hopping off the stage and sauntering over to the bar to grab a drink, knowing that for his next song, he'd need his voice to be "well oiled". Putting down a small tower of coins harvested from his donation pail, the bard glances towards Bernard and puts on a guise of friendliness. "Bernard, you stoic son of a bitch, how about a couple of beers" he chimes with a handsome, albeit toothy grin. Assuming he gets his due alcohol, having paid the price in silver, Viggo would return to the stage, sitting down cross legged as he ploughs through the two drinks, abolishing the first in half a minute before swiftly moving onto the next. Once sufficiently drowsed by the beer, Viggo stands once more, kicking the stool backwards and out of the way. Drawing his guitar from his back once more, he adopts a wide-legged stance before he begins to pluck once more at the strings of instrument. The new song begins much like the one before, though after a few seconds the noise of his guitar shifts to become much more metallic and offensive to some ears. The powerful riffs ring out from the instrument with an energetic wave, inspiring courage and vigour in all that listen, unless of course your will is powerful enough to resist Viggo's musical charms. As the song finds its pace, Viggo begins to rock his head up and down with thumping rhythm, causing his hair to flow in time with his movements.</s>
<\|description\|>Viggo Malmsteen Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 29 Occupation: Bard Personality/Interests: Viggo is an egotistical, nihilistic, and self-destructive person who lives only for self enjoyment. Reveling in the pleasures of life he has little care for trivialities like "responsibility" or "consequences". However, despite his faults, Viggo is utterly dedicated to his music career, and has no lack of discipline when it comes to practising his guitar or vocal talents. Appearance: Viggo is a tall and lithe person, with hints of muscularity in his arms and chest. Body build: As mentioned above, he is thin, but now scrawny, and tall for a human, standing at around 6'2. Hair: Viggo's pale golden hair flows down past his chest, and is light enough to majestically billow in a soft breeze. Skin color: This bard is unremarkably pale, little else to say here. Eye/Iris color: Viggo often wears dark paint around the sockets of his eyes, but his irises are a deep blue. Height/Weight: 6'2 / 155lbs Notable Features: Viggo often wears a cologne concocted from sweet smelling herbs and flowers, giving him an aroma that masks the smell of booze that perpetually floats around him. Clothing Description: Viggo wears a black sleeveless top when indoors, and adopts a larger longsleeved cloak of a similar colour when outside. His breeches are slightly greyer, but generally match stylistically with the rest of his outfit. Equipment: Viggo's prized possession is his guitar, as it so no ordinary device. Unlike most string instruments, Viggo's guitar is modified with socketed black crystals and panels of metal that run along the body and up into the neck. When the strings are thrashed, the instrument rings out a much harsher but powerful noise (ie. the noise of an electric guitar). However, the guitar's strings can still be plucked softly to mimic the sound of a lute or traditional (acoustic) guitar. The inner workings of the instrument are known to Viggo alone. Weapon(s): Viggo, by habit, carries a small dagger with him. Powers While Viggo's skill at guitar does stem from years of practise, he rightfully sees himself as a natural, and has been proficient with musical instruments from a young age. Abilities: Viggo is human, and therefore possesses few abnormal traits. Talents: Viggo is a masterful guitarist, and according to himself, the best in the world. He is also an incredible drinker, and known to rival dwarves in the amount of alcohol he can pump into his body before needing the help of a healer. Magic: While Viggo is not a mage or wizard by any standards, his knowledge of the arcane has allowed him to blend magic into his music, as such, Viggo's playing tends to have bizarre effects on people. Depending on the tempo, melody, and theme of the song, Viggo can slowly turn a group of people against one another, or make a situation calmer by lulling everyone into a state of peace and tranquility. Certain riffs can also summon dread or pain in individuals, though the effects of the spell are quickly broken if Viggo stops playing. History: (Read Rule VI.)</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Yeah!" Drubbins shouted, more at someone making a proclamation than anything. It was good to show solidarity when you were the new boy. Despite being part of several huge victory feasts in the past, one of which had cleared an entire county of booze as raiding parties kept striking out farther and farther in an effort to acquire more, Drubbins had never discovered an amount of alcohol that would force a meeting with either of those gods. It was like there was something in the air, something that inspired blokes to bold action. If he was going to be getting drink from Da Boss than he would damn well do something to earn it. With a throaty grunt he lifted himself off the the floor, giving Azzrix two big, hearty pats as he lumbered past toward that job board that Da Boss had nodded at. He solemnly swept his eyes over it, taking in all the little papers and things. He couldn't make heads or tails of this, but he had never let that stop him before. He raised up a hand and pinched one at random between the nails of his fingers before pulling it off, then turned back around to scan the room. There would be a smart boy somewhere out there. Normally you could count on a magic boy to be very smart, but the only one who'd he'd seen do magic was that dog bloke. Drubbins had a pretty commanding view of the room with his height, but he couldn't see the dog bloke anymore. Then he looked for that blue bloke who'd pointed the boss out to him, but he wasn't in here either. He could ask Da Boss, but Da Boss seemed to expect you to be able to do this yourself and he didn't want to make a bad impression to a new Boss. He supposed he could go back and ask Azzrix, but he was a funny boy and might lie to him. That had happened to him before on a new Boss, just the expected new boy hazing. Then he spotted someone at a table in the far corner. Two blokes sharing a table, one of them wearing robes which nearly always meant he was a smart type. That wasn't the only reason, of course. There were plenty of blokes wearing robes in this tavern. No, this bloke looked like Malia Burg. His first boss. He was scared it might be Malia at first, before remembering that she and her whole tower had been blown to nothing with powerful magic. Wait, this person looked a lot like Malia so maybe they were also one of those she-blokes that Malia had told him she was. Drubbins decided that, just to be safe, he wouldn't mention the word bloke around them because that used to get Malia really steamed. He wandered up to the table with as much subtlety as his size allowed, which was none, and stood possibly too close behind Tahira to be entirely comfortable. "Scuse me." he asked tentatively, holding up the paper. "Whats dis say?"</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nodded along to Historia's response. She certainly wasn't wrong. Or at least it sounded like it, Claire had never heard of the Anemoi islands. She actually didn't know all too much about the rest of the world... After Historia it seemed to be Mysaren's turn to speak, choosing the next turn the conversation would take. As just stated, Claire didn't know that much about the world. She had no idea where they could sell precious items. Having nothing to say on the matter, she let her attention fall back out to the crowd. She eyed the ogre, the rat, the musician, the lizard. Plenty of people to see, probably from plenty of places. Claire felt small. "If you are going to go sell some things, may I...tag along?" She asked softly over to the other girl. She didn't look her way at first, but her gaze hovered over after a tiny bit. "I...am looking for something." She paused, choosing her words carefully. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but then it fell closed again. It seems the right words, were no words at all. As if to show that, she turned back to her her food and took another portion. She was easily the slowest eater of the three, her food was getting cold... "I'm from Akontosh." She added in between dainty mouthfuls. It was a large city, quite a ways away...Known for it's rich history in the arts, and for it's high rate of income. "I'm here...to look for something." She seemed amendment on letting out what 'something' was. She cut another portion of nearly charred steak. "I would appreciate it..." she commented, making reference once more to her request of accompanying the other.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale "Ah! Don't be sorry for giving me advice Miss Mysaren!" Historia told her, quickly looking up at her with a worried expression. She hopped Miss Mysaren hadn't mistaken her annoyance at the musical spell for annoyance at her. "Advice is a wonderful thing. It teaches lessons and it shows concern. I can only thank you for giving me some." Historia told her, smiling a little as she pulled down her goggles over her eyes again. Historia kind of wondered what kind of life Miss Mysaren had lead up till now for her to tell her that... "Looking to sell some things huh..." Historia continued, not dwelling on those thoughts for long. "Hmmm...Well, I've gotten to know a few merchants a little in town by doing a few delivers for them. Perhaps I could introduce you to them if that might help?" Historia suggested. She paused when Miss Claire spoke up though, surprised that Miss Claire was willing to give the name of her place of origin. Historia would try to find some information about Akontosh later. She gave Miss Claire a smile, though Historia wasn't sure if Miss Claire saw that as she was keeping her eyes on her plate. Historia also wanted to ask what Miss Claire was looking for, because perhaps she could help, but with the advice they just gave her, and the fact that Miss Claire didn't say what it was, even though she had the chance to, it was clear that she didn't feel like talking about it. "Perhaps I could show the two of you around a little? At least the commerce areas, since they're the ones I'm most familiar with at the moment. I mean, I'm not an expert of this city yet, but it would certainly be nice to walk with others." Historia told them with a smile. She had started walking more since she left home. Mostly because the skies were lonely with so few races haveing the ability to fly around. Historia let out a small laugh, "Oh dear, I just realized that you two are probably going to tell me I shouldn't go walking around with strangers now huh?"</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Marcoon Blue Moon Tavern Sess grabs her by her arm and yanks her out the door, heading toward the man that she had seen out the window earlier. She hears him yell to Bernard before they rush out the door. He is grabbing her wrist, to which Naida flushes. Normally Sess has a tendency not to touch people. Honestly, this was the first time that she had ever seen him do it. He drags her outside and stops in front of the man and... Kat. Naida frowns when she remembers that the she-demon was actually talking to the knight. Sess bows and introduces himself to the knight man before introducing her. Putting aside her feelings of slight rage and loathing toward Kat, she smiles at the knight. "Anything anyone needs at the bar, they come to me," Naida says with a big smile on her face. "So where you from, knight-boy? I haven't seen you around these parts before." Since Kat is here, Naida has lost a lot of her happy energy that she used to have in the bar. Now, her silvery wings flutter nervously, going faster than her mouth had been in the bar. She grips Sess's wrist, anchoring herself to the ground through him. She knew that if she let go, she would probably wind up hovering a few yards off the ground and she did not need that right now. She tries not to grip onto his arm too hard, but she can't help that her fingernails dig into his skin slightly.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Viggo would have ignored his chastisement from Naida, continuing on with the song until its due finish. As Viggo hits the last strum of his strings, he raises his head, sweating and thoroughly worked from his playing. With his guitar still resting at his hip he notes the additional coins in his pail, grinning happily as he grabs a small cloth and wipes beads of perspiration from his brow. Walking back to the bar he takes a bottle of beer out of his "other bucket", promptly uncapping it and drinking the contents. Now a little more than tipsy, he shoots a cursory glare at Naida, moving to give her a piece of his mind on the use of magic in his playing, though before he can take a first step she's led outside by Sess. He blows a strand of hair from his face, and loops it behind his ear, sighing in exasperation. Viggo places his fingers on the neck of his guitar, absently tapping notes without making much noise. He soon begins to walk around while practising quietly, scanning the crowd for anyone he might be able to serenade a few coins out of.</s> <\|message\|>Margaret von Eisenberg Margaret was about to say something when the charm lit up again as the hair-for-brains decided it was a good time to terrorize her hungover hearing. She felt the charm actually heat up - It might be a permanent enchantment, but the trade was that it could only absorb and neutralize limited amount of magic in the given time. Just like her liver and alcohol. "Would somebody drag this circus reject out of here? My ears are going to bleed! I swear every time this individuum makes an appearance I lose a bit of my will to live!" she shout-whispered her complaint. Her anger vented somewhat, she turned back to the mage who inquired of her skill. "Oh, quite a few years. Under various masters and from various sources. I suppose that's the defining quality of witchcraft - learning on your own and largely by doing." she shrugged at Tahira's question. "It is more reliant on resources than the magic itself, which can make it rather costly at times though." She really hoped some well paying jobs would pop up soon. Speaking of which, the ogre approached their table. Apparently it... he... didn't know the written word. "That's the menu." she answered for the other whens he got a glimpse of the paper he was holding.</s>	<\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Viggo's head slowly turns towards the direction of the criticism, finding a giant red-haired woman as the source. Clutching the neck of his guitar, Viggo strides over to Margaret with an aggressive snarl on his lips. "Hey!" he shouts curtly as he approaches, stopping a few feet away from her, his guitar now held slightly to the side. Viggo's face is fixed with an annoyance, as though he's used to dealing with people unfond of his style of music. "You have a problem with my choice of song, ma'am?" he asks with poison to his tone, his fingers independently continue to silently pluck and tap away at the strings and frets in practice. Viggo's eyes quickly flash to the ogre next to him before glancing back at Margaret, making sure that he's not about to be stomped by the giant beast of a man.</s>
<\|description\|>Viggo Malmsteen Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 29 Occupation: Bard Personality/Interests: Viggo is an egotistical, nihilistic, and self-destructive person who lives only for self enjoyment. Reveling in the pleasures of life he has little care for trivialities like "responsibility" or "consequences". However, despite his faults, Viggo is utterly dedicated to his music career, and has no lack of discipline when it comes to practising his guitar or vocal talents. Appearance: Viggo is a tall and lithe person, with hints of muscularity in his arms and chest. Body build: As mentioned above, he is thin, but now scrawny, and tall for a human, standing at around 6'2. Hair: Viggo's pale golden hair flows down past his chest, and is light enough to majestically billow in a soft breeze. Skin color: This bard is unremarkably pale, little else to say here. Eye/Iris color: Viggo often wears dark paint around the sockets of his eyes, but his irises are a deep blue. Height/Weight: 6'2 / 155lbs Notable Features: Viggo often wears a cologne concocted from sweet smelling herbs and flowers, giving him an aroma that masks the smell of booze that perpetually floats around him. Clothing Description: Viggo wears a black sleeveless top when indoors, and adopts a larger longsleeved cloak of a similar colour when outside. His breeches are slightly greyer, but generally match stylistically with the rest of his outfit. Equipment: Viggo's prized possession is his guitar, as it so no ordinary device. Unlike most string instruments, Viggo's guitar is modified with socketed black crystals and panels of metal that run along the body and up into the neck. When the strings are thrashed, the instrument rings out a much harsher but powerful noise (ie. the noise of an electric guitar). However, the guitar's strings can still be plucked softly to mimic the sound of a lute or traditional (acoustic) guitar. The inner workings of the instrument are known to Viggo alone. Weapon(s): Viggo, by habit, carries a small dagger with him. Powers While Viggo's skill at guitar does stem from years of practise, he rightfully sees himself as a natural, and has been proficient with musical instruments from a young age. Abilities: Viggo is human, and therefore possesses few abnormal traits. Talents: Viggo is a masterful guitarist, and according to himself, the best in the world. He is also an incredible drinker, and known to rival dwarves in the amount of alcohol he can pump into his body before needing the help of a healer. Magic: While Viggo is not a mage or wizard by any standards, his knowledge of the arcane has allowed him to blend magic into his music, as such, Viggo's playing tends to have bizarre effects on people. Depending on the tempo, melody, and theme of the song, Viggo can slowly turn a group of people against one another, or make a situation calmer by lulling everyone into a state of peace and tranquility. Certain riffs can also summon dread or pain in individuals, though the effects of the spell are quickly broken if Viggo stops playing. History: (Read Rule VI.)</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) It was getting rather crowded at the job board. Kat tuned out as the priest went on and on about Remnants, and she really didn't want to think of those things right now. Paying no attention to everyone around her mumbling, she glanced down at Hel. Then she looked back up, and snatched a random job the priest had just pinned to the board. This better not be some stupid missing pet assignment again… The last one the two of them had done hadn't gone particularly well. Turned out that while unusually large snow leopards were excellent hunters, they also scared the living daylights out of whatever they were looking for. Go figure. Kat looked down at the piece of paper in her hand. Staring into the Abyss. Mages, Kat scoffed to herself as she read the details over. Figures they'd come up with this pretentious name. Maybe she'd just go get the jewel for herself. Not that she was skilled in magic at all, but just from the style of the request, she had a feeling the mages deserved a good ol' kick in the face. Or something equally as spiteful. She was in a spiteful mood. She glanced back over to Hel and asked, "Wanna kill some Drakas?" Not that Kat really knew what Drakas were.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren considered Azzrix's offer, then shook her head. "No thank you," She said, "I don't want to go on an adventure with someone I just met. Thanks for the drinks though." She grabbed one of the drinks that was brought out and downed it, letting out a sigh of relief. It was a bit early to start drinking like this, but she hadn't had a nice cold drink in a while, and getting drunk did sound like a fantastic idea right now. No, she couldn't. She had too many things to do, too many reasons to stay on her guard. A few drinks never hurt anybody though... She watched everyone else in the bar, noticing some of them crowded around that jobs board. A job would never hurt. She wasn't exactly above an honest living, it was just too unrealistic for someone who spent their life traveling most of the time. There was talk of plenty of rewards for the missions, though, and if she could find a few good allies, then she'd be happy to take one on. For now, she just sat at the bar though, considering what to do while she was here, and when she should leave.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren I'm dumb.</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Priest] Priest turned his attention from the board to Naida, his smile widening. "Ah, Miss Marcoon!" He greeted cheerfully, taking a small break from hanging the requests. "It's a pleasure to see you again, and don't worry about adding your job. It helps pay for the Church, too, you know! Always a pleasure that the proceeds go to the orphanage. Poor kids..." His expression went from cheerful to melancholy in quite a short span. However, before he could continue his conversation with Naida, Rimau stole his attention. Priest listened to him with a smile on his face, taking the jokes with much patience and good humor. Priest laughed before Rimau did, extending a hand. "Well, I was an orphan and had the darkest of days, friend," Priest told him when all was said and done. "I woke up with no memory to my past and I was ignored on the streets. When all was bleak, and the storm clouds closed in, there was a light... an elderly man from the Church came to me and took me in. He taught me to read and write, to love and to see the light in this world. It was his teachings that shown me the way. Without it, I would be just as cynical as you are," Priest jested. Before Priest could get his handshake, however, a new person came to him. A tall, muscular knight seeming eager to know about Remnants. "O-oh," Priest began, his expression worrisome. "The Remnants aren't as active as they were. The past several weeks, there was nary a sight of them. I think the only job referencing them is the one involving a mysterious gem in a cave. It's infested with them, and those are the only ones found." He explained, frowning. Then another patron approached him, a beautiful woman, asking about the quest involving the mages and the gem. "I don't know much, honestly. It is the Arcane Collective, the mages' guild here in Belheim, and the gem they seek is quite rare, almost legendary. It is a jewel said to be formed from areas heavily concentrated with magical energies. However, it is being guarded by Drakas, Remnants from the continent of Shoba. I highly suggest you bring a few more people before taking the job... otherwise, their sheer numbers would overpower you." He explained, fully, concern shadowing his once-cheerful face. [Sessamaru] The half-breed waited eagerly for his food, too focused on eating to pay any attention to Priest. When Naida finally grabbed him another bowl, he began to eat it with ferocity equal to the initial dish. He finished the meal swiftly and raised the bowl again. Naida subtly suggested he do a mission and he contemplated on it. Perhaps I should... but not on an empty stomach! he thought, smiling brightly. "I think I will, Miss Naida. It has been a while since I last enjoyed the outside world." He told her, eyes shining. "But first! More food, please!"</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon NaidaBlue Moon Tavern Naida rolls her eyes as Sess asks for another bowl. She quickly dishes him some more, this time adding a little fairy dust to it so it will quell his hunger for at least a good hour, and says, "Alright, great! You and I can do a job together. I get to choose." She sets the bowl down in front of him, sticking her tongue out at him in a childish way as she does, and flits over to the job board, hovering above most of the people's heads. She notices one that looks very interesting and pulls it down off the board. Taken She reads the description quickly and flits back over to Sess, showing him the job. "How's this one? I think I know the daughter; I've seen her in here with her parents more than once." She then notices that it says that the island is on the river nearby. She smiles, delighted. It has been a long time since she has been in her mermaid form and she fears that she would die of withdrawal if she were to go any longer. "If we do this job, we need to stop by my house before we head out," she tells Sess. "Ileft my bow and arrows back there, along with a few of my knives. I hope that's alright." Her eyes scan over the paper again, curious on how much the reward is. It doesn't say, but from what she has seen from the parents, they are quite rich. She looks over at Bernard and says, "Hey, Bernard! I might be leaving a little early today." She grins at him and holds up the paper. "Gotta job to do."</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Sess swiftly continues to eat the stew, slowing down when he noticed a strange new flavor, almost like an exotic spice. The swordsman looked at the bowl, then to Naida. With a sigh and a shrug, he finished the new dish and wandered away into the kitchen. There was a commotion, a lot of yelling from the chef, and the kitchen door explodes open with Sessamaru running out of it, holding a giant pot full of the stew. "Miss Naida! Let's go!" He cried, fearing for his life whilst being chased by the chef and the other cooks. The cooks and chef began to throw objects at the fleeing Sess, who chugged the pot down while running, each object miraculously missing him. Dropping the now empty pot, the swordsman reached the door and left the tavern, leaving Naida to her own devices.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen looked hard at the priest. He shifted his gaze to the wall behind him. There were several papers attached to it. "Okay thank you," he replied curtly to the man. Other people seemed to be trying to talk to the priest so Rouen maneuvered around them to look at the board. He searched the wall with a finger for anything mentioning a cave. "A help board? Well that is a new idea," he thought looking at the variety of requests. Many of the requests seemed juvenile, like petty thievery or missing pets. They were jobs meant for squires and the local guard force. Things that were of no interest to Rouen at all. He found what the priest was talking about."A cave eh? Well hopefully I get the luck of the draw this time around," he thought. "I wouldn't be surprised if what this priest thinks a remnant is turned out to be another overgrown solitary fay creature." Rouen had searched many caves, abandoned houses, and valleys in the past nine months of travelling. Most of them were just that. Caves, abandoned houses, and valleys. Occasionally he would run into some fay creature like an ogre or harpy. Even then the majority of them were fairly harmless. None had actual Remnants. He sighed, "Well this is the only information I have so far, maybe it will actually lead me somewhere."However, as he turned around a smile grew on his face. "Back to the field," he thought happily thinking of this next part of his journey. The field was a term he used for where the action occurs. It was where battles took place, quests were completed, and history happens. Rouen didn't care if this cave turned out to be just some abandoned spookhole. He was a knight. The field, whether it be some cave, castle, forest, or a plain landscape was his duty. It was where he found his purpose. He walked toward the bar where there was an empty bowl of soup and half a mug of ale. Shuffling through his pouch he put down two silver coins. Looking at the big man who looked like the bartender Rouen said, "This should cover the stew," he said. He then put another silver coin down, "And this is for the lady. Please pass on my compliments." He turned and it looked like people in the bar seemed to be crowding over the message board. "So many people willing to help each other. This may be a fay tavern but the community seems to be healthy. It must be the human aspect," he thought. His eyes shifted to some of the more conspicuous folks. There was a woman wearing a robe made of a swirl of vibrant colors. "She must be important, I've only seen diplomats and high nobility wear such expensive gowns," he thought and couldn't help but admire her figure. He next looked at the one-armed village girl and glared. "Bah, someone will teach her manners one day. I shouldn't overreact like that again, it is beneath my station," he thought. Smile on his face, Rouen turned towards the tavern door and began to walk onto the road.</s>	<\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen After his little spat with the witch, Viggo swung by the bar, sitting down on a stool nearby his iced bucket of beer bottles. He uncorked one with his teeth and quickly consumed its contents, resting his idle hand flat on his guitars strings. Once sated, the guitarist stood again, wiping his lips with this thumb, and cast his gaze in the direction of Rouen who had been looking over the various contracts pinned to the large message board. With a huff, Viggo pushed himself off his seat and made his way over to the board to see if he could find something to do. Viggo poured over the messages, rolling his eyes at more than one. "Boo hoo, you lost a dog.. Buy a new one.." he uttered quietly while hunched forward to pour over the rest of the notices. At last, his eyes fixated on one that seemed worthy of his talents. After noting the details to memory, Viggo moved towards the bar, whistling to get Bernard's attention. "Hey, Bernie, what's the deal with this daughter situation. The island quest, with the uh, disgusting tribespeople" he would question, leaning forward onto the bar, having swung his guitar behind his back once more.</s>
<\|description\|>Naida Marcoon Race: Water Sprite (Combination of Faerie and Mermaid) Gender: Female Age: 21 Occupation: Part Time Bartender Personality/Interests: Naida is a very exuberant person. She can be fearless and brave at times and she tends to not be angry almost at all. She has a very long fuse when it comes to anger and she is very patient. She is also a very friendly person right off the bat, but she is also one of those people who is "if you hate me, I'll hate you right back". She is not afraid to speak her mind and does not seem to be afraid of anything. Appearance: She still has short white hair though Details: Body build: She is very slender, but it is mostly muscle Hair: Short and slightly wavy, but not super wavy or curly and it reaches slightly lower than her chin. She also has short side bangs. Hair color: Her hair is almost completely white, but she has some slightly blue tinges in there from her mother's bright blue hair. Skin color: She has very pale skin, but it tans fairly easily. Eye/Iris color: She has very pale blue eyes and sometimes seem white at times. Height/Weight: She is about five feet seven inches and she weighs about 60 pounds at most. She has lightweight bones so she can fly and she does not really contain any fat in her at all. Notable Features: Whenever her feet touch water, they transform into her long, silvery blue tail. When she is not in water, she has large, silvery blue wings on her back that look a little like dragonfly wings. She also has a scar on the side of her stomach where she was impaled with a harpoon because the fisherman thought she was a baby whale. (Ignore the claws in the picture. She does not have those) Clothing Description: When she is on land, she most wears a halter top white crop top that looks mostly like a bikini top. She has a flat front going across her chest and upper abdomen, but all that connects it to the back is a string. It falls just above her belly button and exposes all of her back so she can move her very thin wings. She also wears short jean shorts and knee high black boots. When she is in the water and in her mermaid form, she just has on the crop top. Equipment: She carries a small horn of water on her side and she also has medical supplies in a bag that she carries off her shoulder. She has some extra food in her pack and a seashell that she can use to call to the water if necessary. Weapon(s): Knives, bow and arrows Powers: Telepathy: She has the ability to talk to anything with her mind, whether it would be fish in the sea or people on land, or even animals on land. Aura Sight: Auras are the hazy color around people or creatures that tells what mood they are at some times. She can see those. Abilities: Flight (obviously): She is able to use her wings to fly to any height that she would like and any length that she would like. Fast Swimmer: Because she grew up so much in the water, she has adapted to be able to swim fast, both in her mermaid form and faerie form. Accelerated Healing When In Water: When she is in the water, her wounds heal faster. Talents: She can play almost any instrument that is set down in front of her, she can make any drink within a few minutes, and she is very acrobatic. Very good with a throwing knife and aim with bow and arrows. Magic: Water Magic Water Manipulation: The ability to create water into any shape. Also the ability to move water Water Temperature Control: In short, she can make water any temperature that she would like by doing a specific hand motion Gather Water From The Air: Exactly as it sounds And so on. Anything that has to do with water, she can probably do it. Sessamaru: "Oh, that kid? Oh, lovely fellow, nice. Seems slightly naïve, but seems to know where he's going." Historia Saurvale: "Yeah, the very formal chick. She is always ordering very formally, rather than yelling 'Yo! Bring me a beer!' Yeah, I think her better than those others who yell that." Saha Thulaja Era: "She is very… protective and hard shelled. Slightly pushy… She's alright, I guess." Katelia: "Oh, that annoying manipulative girl! Honestly, if I had to, I try my best not to serve her and get the other waitress to do it." Julio: laughs "Oh the pessimist. He's a quiet one and not too bad. He's alright for a customer, though he's kind of a downer…" Azzrix Grimmor: "Very, very full of himself. I don't exactly like serving his kind, but since he's as good as a thief he thinks he is, he is a very good tipper, which makes me like him." Margaret von Eisenberg: "Greedy, greedy, greedy! I'm always on my feet with her. I never get a rest." Drubbins: "Oh, that funny little ogre! I like him a lot. He's what makes my paycheck so big." Mysaren: "She is very… fake kind of. She also seems very shy. I've tried to make her come out of her shell." Tahira Raske: "Very intelligent and loyal. I like her a lot." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Such a long name! Very, very lazy though. Does not come up to the bar to get his drink, I have to deliver it." Claire Alexandria: "I like her a lot! Seems very nice. Not the most outspoken person in the world." Viggo Malmsteen: "Don't care for him. Kind of a self-centered jerk." Rouen Fulgur: "Seems very loyal. Very focused on merit and loyalty. I like him." Felan the Wolf: "I like him. He seems very nice. But I always have to keep him away from the dwarves…"</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale "You're welcome." Historia told Miss Claire with a smile, though she wasn't quite sure what she was thanking her for? For answering her question was the most likely reason Historia could come up with. As Historia started to eat though, she noticed that Miss Mysaren seemed...well hungry for one thing. She was glad that Miss Mysaren was able to get a meal. But she also seemed, nervous? Scared? A bit of both? Well, that whole commotion with the energy, getting hit with Historia's wings, among the many other exciting things that had happened were probably the cause of it. Historia decided that she had to do something to take her mind off of that. "Um..." Historia said between bites. "My last name is Saurvale. I'm from the floating islands of Anemoi."She paused, taking another bite and trying to figure out what else to say. "I'm currently saving up money to start traveling again. I kind of ran out when I got to this city. In fact, the first day I arrived, I got pickpocketed, which is always wonderful to find out." Historia said with sarcasm before coughing some with the smoke. She waved her hand in front of her face to clear some of the smoke away before continuing. "I found myself in this Tavern, hoping to buy some food. Thankfully, even though I didn't have money, someone was kind enough to pay for my meal. I hope to find the kind patron and pay them back before I leave, though I don't know when that'll be." Historia finished with a smile before shifting her attention to the stage. "The bard is certainly getting more energetic with his tunes isn't he?" She added after a few moments of listening to the song.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren eyed Historia as she spoke, downing her own drink and sighing. Kid was sharing a lot of information to someone she just met. She heard the racket of the band behind her and rolled her eyes, starting to rub her temples. She was going to need a couple more drinks for this. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Mysaren. I was born somewhere and did a lot of things. It's not wise to start spouting life stories to people, kid. People will use it against you, you know. Hopes and dreams." She had done it before, and she didn't like it, not one bit. She shrugged, looking down her cup to see if she had anything left. Nothing. She pushed her plate and cup to the side and spun around, leaning back on the bar. She knew about body language, and if she was going to last a minute in this place, then she would have to look confident. She noticed that the orc, maybe an ogre, was talking to some rat fellow and another man over somewhere else. There was also a lizard guy sitting next to her, blowing smoke all over the bar, smoke that made her feel a bit... weird. She swiped the smoke away with her hand and watched the rest of the bar carefully.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen was laying on the ground. Eyes closed in pain, he sat up and rubbed his head. He felt something nudge him in the side. "No trouble. Although this fault would be mine," he replied and opened an eye towards the stranger. He was greeted with the sight of a large, very large pale cat. "What th-!" he yelled as his face immediately reflected panic and he instinctively jumped away from the predator. His right hand immediately moved to the hilt of the sword on his back. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the figure of a woman. She was dressed in hunting garments typical leather boots, brown pants, and a green garment. The shock in his face was visible as he saw her missing arm."Fabric looks rather plain, probably some local village peasant girl," he thought. Rouen shifed his attention back onto the cat who didn't seem to be in too much of a threatening posture. He moved his hand away from the hilt of his sword and back down. "Um, that creature wouldn't be yours would it villager?" he asked.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat just stared at him, eyebrow raised, as the stranger's face went through the typical set of expressions people made when faced with her and Hel for the first time. Panic, to shock, to confusion. Yup. Every time. Hel gave a little growl when the man reached for his sword, but he backed off soon enough as he finally began to understand the situation. The stranger then began to look her over, evaluating, and Kat did the same. He was dirty and unshaven, but still clearly someone with some important title – the massive pauldron he wore on his shoulder and the blade he carried spoke to that. So some knight, then. He certainly looked the part under all that grime… he was so big that if he hugged someone, he'd probably squeeze the life right out of them. It's no wonder the horse threw him off, Kat snarked to herself. Poor beast was probably protesting all this weight. She blinked then at his next choice of words. Villager. It'd been a very long time since Kat had belonged to any village. Hel once again raised his hackles at the knight when he called the snow leopard a pet, and Kat just smirked, brushing her fingers through his fur to calm him. "You don't bite him, he won't bite back," she said as an answer. Pushing herself up, she brushed her hand on her pants and looked down at him. Hel took a step in front of her, putting his shoulders between the girl and the knight. Apparently, he was still a bit sore at being called a 'pet.' Some song was playing in the tavern that Kat really didn't care for, but for some reason or other, she was feeling less tired as she stretched her neck. Perhaps a nap in the woods wasn't so necessary after all. "Your horse is long gone, by the way. Probably still running for its life." She eyed him again, lingering on the metal pauldron and oversized sword. Really, oversized was a good word to summarize him as a whole. Have fun lugging yourself to the closest horse trader.</s>	<\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern "Oh, right..." she says in response to Sessamaru's answer to her previous question. She then notices Felan walk in and she smiles. "Give me one more minute, Sess." She flits over to Felan and says, "Usual, right?" She does not wait for an answer. Instead, she flies over to the cook herself and calls for Felan's usual. She then sits at the counter and waits for a few minutes, taking drink orders at the bar, the ones that the thief so loving bought for everyone. She quickly fills their orders and then looks back to see the cook is done with Felan's order. She quickly grabs it, passes out the rest of the drinks, and flies quickly back over to Felan and sets the plate down in front of him. "Here you go, darling!" she says with a gracious smile on her face. She then notices music playing for the first and she looks over to see Viggo. She sighs and rolls her eyes, walking over to him. "Hey, Viggo! What have we told you about casting spells on paying customers?" Naida yells, looking at the musician. She has not been affected by the spell because she is so used to him casting it. Also, her mermaid/faerie background makes it hard for spells to be cast on her. "You can keep playing, but take the spell off, mate. We don't need a riot just in case that spell goes wrong." She rolls her eyes at the guy again, but she flits quickly back over to the counter, grabs him a few more beers, and sets them down next to him, hoping that he won't order anymore afterwards. If this guy got drunk... Naida shakes her head and flies back over to Sessamaru, landing lightly next to him. "Do you think that will get him to stop casting spells on customers?" she asks him with a sigh. She runs a hand over her face and says, "I don't know why he does it. He should be able to get money on his own. This tavern isn't the only place in the realm to get money. Also, casting a spell on drunk people..." She grits her teeth and shakes her head before she grins at Sessamaru. She looks out the window and sees Kat talking to a knight-looking person, one that she hasn't seen around very often. She nudges Sess and asks, "Who's that?"</s>
<\|description\|>Naida Marcoon Race: Water Sprite (Combination of Faerie and Mermaid) Gender: Female Age: 21 Occupation: Part Time Bartender Personality/Interests: Naida is a very exuberant person. She can be fearless and brave at times and she tends to not be angry almost at all. She has a very long fuse when it comes to anger and she is very patient. She is also a very friendly person right off the bat, but she is also one of those people who is "if you hate me, I'll hate you right back". She is not afraid to speak her mind and does not seem to be afraid of anything. Appearance: She still has short white hair though Details: Body build: She is very slender, but it is mostly muscle Hair: Short and slightly wavy, but not super wavy or curly and it reaches slightly lower than her chin. She also has short side bangs. Hair color: Her hair is almost completely white, but she has some slightly blue tinges in there from her mother's bright blue hair. Skin color: She has very pale skin, but it tans fairly easily. Eye/Iris color: She has very pale blue eyes and sometimes seem white at times. Height/Weight: She is about five feet seven inches and she weighs about 60 pounds at most. She has lightweight bones so she can fly and she does not really contain any fat in her at all. Notable Features: Whenever her feet touch water, they transform into her long, silvery blue tail. When she is not in water, she has large, silvery blue wings on her back that look a little like dragonfly wings. She also has a scar on the side of her stomach where she was impaled with a harpoon because the fisherman thought she was a baby whale. (Ignore the claws in the picture. She does not have those) Clothing Description: When she is on land, she most wears a halter top white crop top that looks mostly like a bikini top. She has a flat front going across her chest and upper abdomen, but all that connects it to the back is a string. It falls just above her belly button and exposes all of her back so she can move her very thin wings. She also wears short jean shorts and knee high black boots. When she is in the water and in her mermaid form, she just has on the crop top. Equipment: She carries a small horn of water on her side and she also has medical supplies in a bag that she carries off her shoulder. She has some extra food in her pack and a seashell that she can use to call to the water if necessary. Weapon(s): Knives, bow and arrows Powers: Telepathy: She has the ability to talk to anything with her mind, whether it would be fish in the sea or people on land, or even animals on land. Aura Sight: Auras are the hazy color around people or creatures that tells what mood they are at some times. She can see those. Abilities: Flight (obviously): She is able to use her wings to fly to any height that she would like and any length that she would like. Fast Swimmer: Because she grew up so much in the water, she has adapted to be able to swim fast, both in her mermaid form and faerie form. Accelerated Healing When In Water: When she is in the water, her wounds heal faster. Talents: She can play almost any instrument that is set down in front of her, she can make any drink within a few minutes, and she is very acrobatic. Very good with a throwing knife and aim with bow and arrows. Magic: Water Magic Water Manipulation: The ability to create water into any shape. Also the ability to move water Water Temperature Control: In short, she can make water any temperature that she would like by doing a specific hand motion Gather Water From The Air: Exactly as it sounds And so on. Anything that has to do with water, she can probably do it. Sessamaru: "Oh, that kid? Oh, lovely fellow, nice. Seems slightly naïve, but seems to know where he's going." Historia Saurvale: "Yeah, the very formal chick. She is always ordering very formally, rather than yelling 'Yo! Bring me a beer!' Yeah, I think her better than those others who yell that." Saha Thulaja Era: "She is very… protective and hard shelled. Slightly pushy… She's alright, I guess." Katelia: "Oh, that annoying manipulative girl! Honestly, if I had to, I try my best not to serve her and get the other waitress to do it." Julio: laughs "Oh the pessimist. He's a quiet one and not too bad. He's alright for a customer, though he's kind of a downer…" Azzrix Grimmor: "Very, very full of himself. I don't exactly like serving his kind, but since he's as good as a thief he thinks he is, he is a very good tipper, which makes me like him." Margaret von Eisenberg: "Greedy, greedy, greedy! I'm always on my feet with her. I never get a rest." Drubbins: "Oh, that funny little ogre! I like him a lot. He's what makes my paycheck so big." Mysaren: "She is very… fake kind of. She also seems very shy. I've tried to make her come out of her shell." Tahira Raske: "Very intelligent and loyal. I like her a lot." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Such a long name! Very, very lazy though. Does not come up to the bar to get his drink, I have to deliver it." Claire Alexandria: "I like her a lot! Seems very nice. Not the most outspoken person in the world." Viggo Malmsteen: "Don't care for him. Kind of a self-centered jerk." Rouen Fulgur: "Seems very loyal. Very focused on merit and loyalty. I like him." Felan the Wolf: "I like him. He seems very nice. But I always have to keep him away from the dwarves…"</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Rupert] Rupert hopped around for a good while until Naida came by with a ball of ice wrapped in a towel. However, when she handed it to the old man, he was too unfocused to keep a hold of the item, causing it to fall onto his other foot. "Yow!" He cried, slamming his other foot down and raising the other one to hold. However, his face lit up like a flame and he dropped the other foot to grasp the other, continuing this as he cried and cursed. This continued for a good while, causing Rupert to hop around the entire bar switching feet as he hopped around. [Sessamaru] The half-breed looked at Naida as she helped him hold the ball of ice over his stomach as she help raised him to his feet, and he smiled, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. "Indeed, Miss Naida," he told her, laughing. "I feel bad for Mister Rupert, though. He will not get to enjoy his drink for a good while." Sessamaru stood up right and placed the ice-towel onto the bar, scratching the back of his head; an unorthodox habit of his. "Honestly though, I am quite fine. Nothing more than a bit of shock." He explained, his smile becoming a wide grin. However, the moment the sentence ended, his stomach let out a ferocious growl, reminiscent of a jungle cat! The half-breed bent forward, holding his stomach. "Except that," he groaned. "Miss Naida, may I have some food, please?" Sess asked, his stomach once again growling with hunger. This ground made the fox-eared youth sink to the floor. Already he could smell the food in the kitchen, causing yet another roar from his stomach. "Ugh..." he moaned, attempting to crawl his way up a stool. "Fooooooood..."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "...Y'sure 'bout that, mister?" Rimau asked, quizically turning his eyes upward as if to actually look quite worried about his Sheep. Of course it wasn't really that bad; there's lots more Sheep in the world. "...Okay, if y'say so. I do believe we live in a... 'democracy' 'ere." He said, recognising the man's choice as an adult, but at the same time making an 'inverted commas' gesture when he said 'democracy'; something of a foreign and kind of silly concept to the old Zizz. "Jus' remember, if that big-ass canid starts a lil' bloodbath at y'pasture, you come an' see me." The Zizz concluded with confidence that this would not be the last Felan heard about this, taking another puff into Felan's big, humourless face before he pulled his chair away, clambering back to the floor. "'Ave a superb day, mister." Soon after that was over with, he found himself turning back to witness that other old guy at the bar, the one that always complained about literally everything. Seemed like he was doing some kind of ritual dance, going 'wowowowow' like some kind a... he didn't even know what. "What in Gekko's name... pffffftthehehehe!" He muttered in response, causing him to clinch his gut in his stifled laughter as he walked over to the bar again, coughing as he approached another barstool. Clambering back up to the bar, he noticed the Rodent was still there, still making himself look like a fool, it seemed. Even better, Naida had returned, though she was still talking with that dog-eared kid. "'Ey, Naida, m'lady, y'back!" He said pleasantly, putting on his toothy grin again. "Terribly sorry for the ramblin' again, but I still 'aven't 'ad m'juice. But no rush. By th'way, what in th'ell was up w'that dumb-ass back there, the one with th'big-ass compensator sword?" He asked, pointing towards said dumb-ass, who for some reason was still standing even after the crazy cat lady had yelled at him. From what he had gathered, when the crazy cat lady got mad, she tended to hurt people. Then again... newfangled suppression field.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) "Tch." Damn right the brat should keep to herself. Now Kat was just a bundle of aggravation and nerves with no way to relieve it all. Suddenly, she grabbed a knife from her belt, and her arm shot forward, knife flying through the air. The blade embedded itself several inches deep into the adjacent tavern wall. She doubted Bernard would be pleased, but she was too caught up in her own emotions to care at the moment. Besides, Bernie was never pleased – not that Kat could tell, at least. Hel started a bit when Kat took out her aggravations on the wall, and looked back at her. With no more threats to deal with, he turned his full attention back to her, nudging her leg with a paw and resting his large head on her lap, making small noises in the back of his throat. Kat ran a hand over her face and heaved a sigh. "Yeah, I know," she said in a low voice. This was ridiculous. She shouldn't have been this worked up. She gave him a pat on the head and then pulled a small copper coin out of her pocket. Still buzzing with energy, she balanced the coin on the back of her first finger and began turning it over from one finger to the next, back and forth.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen frowned as the inn-keep Naida attempted to help the two men. He watched the older man step on his other foot with his injured foot and hop around. "Well with old age comes clumsiness," he thought. The fox-eared man grumbled his way up towards the stool. "Fooooooood..." he moaned. "Well, it doesn't look like they need help. This really has to be one of the strangest inns I have ever been in, I wonder wh-," he thought and a glance around made him realize something. The winged girl, the fox ears, the white hair, the one-handed village-girl with the cat that was more predator than pet. Now he realized that there was a bipedal lizard and a furry-blue humanoid. "Ugh, a fay tavern," he thought and a light look of disgust grew on his face. "Well, it isn't like I have a choice I better get used to this," he thought. He took a seat in one of the empty bar stools. "May I have some stew as well?" he asked Naida.</s>	<\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern Naida rolls her eyes as Sessamaru begins to beg for food. And, to make it even better, the knight guy now asks for food. She sighs and hurries back to the kitchen, calling for two Potato Nut stews. She sweeps into the back kitchen, her wings fluttering, as she helps prepare the meals, but before she can do much, the cook kicks her back out to go make drinks. The water sprite growls at him, mad that she can't help, but she complies and walks back out to the bar. Naida grabs Rouen's untouched Fey Buster drink and sets it in front of him. "Here you go, mate," she says. She is about to walk away to get Sess a drink when she pauses and turns back around. She looks at him carefully and says, "Drink that slowly, mate. Don't want to see you running naked down the street because you drank something too fast." She smirks and proceeds to pour Sessamaru's favorite drink. She slides it down the bar and it stops directly in front of him. The cook then rings for her with the soups and she flits over to the kitchen, now hovering a couple feet off the ground. She takes the plates in her hands and flutters back over to them, setting the stew down in front of them. She grabs some salt and sprinkles it over the top of them, smiling at Rouen and Sessamaru. She turns to Sess and says, "Here, eat up. Want to keep your strength up before that old bag comes back and beats the life out of ya." She smiles at Rouen before she hears that Rimau is addressing her. She turns to look at him and smiles. "Oh, hey, Rimau! This is just a new customer," she says with a big smile. "I didn't see you walk down, my scaly friend. I'll get you that juice right away." She quickly grabs the couple drinks from under the bar and mixes them together, adding a very small pinch of fairy dust to it so Rimau could wake up a little more. She passes the juice down the bar, sliding it toward the scaly man and says, "There you go, bud! Don't drink it too fast." She grins at him before turning back to Sess and Rouen.</s>
<\|description\|>Felan the Wolf Race: Skin-changer (based off of Tolkien fiction) Gender: Male Age: 35 Occupation: A simple sheep herder Personality/Interests: While usually gentle, Felan can be fierce if not given the respect he deserves. Like any creature of the forest, Felan must be respected in order for respect to be returned. He's loyal to those he calls friends, and generally mild mannered, but should one forget who he is, he's quick to remind them. Felan is very respectful of nature and her creatures. He only uses what he needs, and what he takes, he uses completely. Although he does have to kill animals to survive, he never considers hunting a great victory. It's simply something he has to do to live. He tends to get all sour when he sees others disrespecting these principals. Outside of his turf, he'll just tolerate it, but on his land, it is unacceptable. He doesn't care much for dwarves, seeing them as greedy creatures who do not respect the earth they mine. His feelings towards humans are kind of on the fence; while he's met very good ones, he's met bad ones as well. He's on pretty good terms with elfin folk, even if he thinks they're a bit stuck up. Magic-baring folk, he's a bit uneasy around. But he's willing to accept them. He absolutely hates goblins and ogres, usually killing them on sight if they intrude on his land. All other races of the land fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Appearance Details Felan is a big man. In his human form, he has copious amounts of hair. The hair on his head is long and black, his beard often grown out. On his back, it grows in a narrow mane that runs down his spine to his tailbone. The rest of his body is covered like that of an average man's, if not a bit thicker. It's smoother and softer than typical male human body hair, almost like fur. Body build: Tall and muscular Hair: Everywhere Hair color: Black Skin color: Caucasian, tanned by the sun. Eye/Iris color: Brown Height/Weight: A towering 6'8"/ 250 Notable Features: Scars litter his body from various spats with intruders Clothing Description: He's a man that clearly doesn't give much thought to his looks. Living alone and not knowing how to sew, his clothes tend to get a bit raggy. He often wears wool pants in various earth tones, and vests made of animal hide. May or may not be found wearing an actual shirt. Probably not. He doesn't get cold easily like your typical human, and since his shifting destroys it, clothing is typically light. Shoes are always forgotten. Equipment: He doesn't carry much Weapon: None Powers: Like every member of his species, he has the ability to take the form of a large, powerful animal whenever he chooses. His form is a great, black wolf with brown eyes. In this form, he stands 5 feet at the shoulder, with strength that surpasses your typical canine. Abilities: Can commune with canines, regardless of his form. Has acute senses. Feels a special connection with animals of any species. Talents: He's shown excellent farming skills. He's very good with his hands, having built his house with his own. Other: He lives on a homestead a few miles outside of town. There, he raises sheep who are said to have the silkiest wool in the country. He's quite popular with the merchants when he comes into town to sell it. The townspeople regard him as a strange hermit, but appreciate him for running off goblin raiders nevertheless. He lives alone, save for his animals. He has a few horses and ponies, quite a few sheep, birds that seem to just hang around, and a whole pack of dogs and wolves of every shape and size. All of whom wander his property and/or his house. Sessamaru: "Has a young and refreshing view on the world." Felan could get along well with him. Historia Saurvale: "A bit childish, but not a bad person." Saha Thulaja Era: "I get a bad vibe from this one." Probably won't get along too well. Katelia: "Not terribly sociable." She seems to be pretty decent to him, but he's still a little on the fence. Still, she's never done anything to make him hate her. Julio: "Seems nice enough." Azzrix Grimmor: "Kind of a shifty little fellow." He's not sure about this one. Margaret von Eisenberg: He's not fond of magic, and not fond of greed. She will probably rub him the wrong way. Naida Marcoon: "That's the nice girl that serves me my favorite ale every week." Drubbins: "I don't like ogres." Mysaren: "She seems nice. Haven't seen her around here before." Tahira Raske: "She seems nice, for a mage anyway." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Wish he'd stay off my damn land." Claire Alexandria: He doesn't really know what to think of her, but she hasn't offended him personally. Viggo Malmsteen: "Nice voice, awful person." Rouen Fulgur: "Pompous asshole."</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix heard several people give a cheer when he said that he would buy free drinks for everyone and he smiled. This made his ego rise a bit and he felt like the center of the tavern right now. Once he got his large mug of mead Azzrix heard Kat mention him and like the messenger god he went over to her with another mug of mead to share. "Did I hear my name uttered? Hello, your name is Katelia isn't it? I would assume that you know who I am by how you just spoke my name, but do you really know who I am?" asked her as he held out the extra mug for her to take it. He then noticed the ogre and whistled a bit at the sight of such a being. "You're a big one, hello my large friend. My name is Azzrix Grimmor, I am a glorious noble by day and a mysterious phantom by night. I stand before you as friend and speak the truth that friendship with a member of the noble Grimmor family is worth more than ten mountains of gold. My deeds though in shadows are above all in skill outside of my family and you will not find one as talented as I in any land. If it is a boss you're looking for then I am the one" Azzrix said to the ogre with a grin.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat pouted a little when her attempt at entertaining herself fell flat. Hel just huffed and flicked her in the face with his tail. Leave it to Naida to spoil her fun. Guess the big lug's not as dumb as he looks, she thought to herself. Still pretty dumb, she amended at seeing him practically throw himself at Bernard's feet. Old Rupert was kicking up a fuss over magic again (something to do with Sess and Naida, of course) but that's not what took Kat by surprise. No, instead it was the fact that in front of her stood the very rat she'd attempted to make mischief on, noble and proud like a champion home from war and holding a drink out to her. Kat just exchanged a look with Hel, eyebrow raised. The snow leopard's ears twitched in a sign of amusement. This is what you get. Turning back to Azzrix, Kat opened her mouth to say the first thing that popped into her mind (Your name is actually Sir Rat, the Inexterminable?) when Hel lifted his head and dropped its significant weight onto her lap, pinning her down to the seat. To anyone else it would just look like an act of affection from a lazy cat, but she knew the warning for what it was: Don't start any shit. So instead, Kat shut her mouth into a closed-lip smile and tilted her head in a mock display of friendliness. Though Hel was preoccupied making sure his charge didn't do anything idiotic, he still watched the newcomer with his silver eyes, always wary. "Already got myself a drink on your behalf," she said, holding up her tankard. "Thanks." Gods above and below, this guy was for real, wasn't he? The corners of her mouth twitched up at the way he oh so gallantly introduced himself, calling himself the 'boss' to the ogre who'd just rebuffed him. Maybe there was still fun to be had.</s>	<\|message\|>Felan the Wolf The sun peeked in past the wooden shutters of a cozy home. The house wasn't too big, but it didn't need to be. A fireplace smoldered on one end of the large, single room. A hand crafted table sat by the window, two slightly larger than normal chairs tucked in under it. The floor was dirt, swept and kept uniform. Several piles of pelts were nestled into various corners, with dogs sprawled across them lazily. A bed sat on the other end of the room, made of strong wood and cushioned with a mattress stuffed with feather and fleece. A couple blankets made up of various animal pelts covered the large man that slumbered there. A few more dogs had made themselves at home, one across his legs and one curled up at his back. The door of the house was left cracked open, fear of intruders not even a thought. Who would trifle with such a sizable resident and his many hounds? However, the heavy wooden door creaked open as someone dared to enter the home. Soft footfalls patted across the dirt floor, approaching the bed where the man slept. A soft, fuzzy white nose pressed into one of his large shoulders, exposed by the slipping blanket. The man grumbled and shifted, encouraging another poke. He blinked awake to look into the shiny black eyes of a young lamb, curious and eager for morning treats. It gave a soft bleat. A sleepy smile spread across the man's face as he reached out a massive hand to caress the lamb's head, fingers scratching under it's chin. "Good morning to you too, little girl," He said, voice gruff with sleep. The man slowly sat up, the excited lamb bleating and scampering back outside. One of the two dogs that laid on the bed lifted its head to watch. The man stood and began going about his morning routine. He pulled on some clothes: a pair of brown wool pants and a soft leather vest, trimmed with sheepskin. A couple of the canines in his home followed him around as he checked on the livestock. Some were not dogs at all, but wild wolves who had made themselves at home there. They seemed to enjoy the man's company; and as long as they didn't harm his sheep or livestock, they were welcomed to stay. The farmer hauled a few bales of hay out to his fields, dividing it among the sheep, goats, donkeys, and equines. He dug handfuls of seeds from a barrel to toss onto the ground for his chickens, exchanging them for a basket full of fresh eggs. The eggs were almost immediately turned into breakfast. Between the man and whatever begging hound was lucky enough to win his pity, they were mostly devoured. As the morning went on, the chores did not end. The firewood was chopped, the horses were groomed, hooves were trimmed, goats were shaved, and sheep were sheared. Of all the sheep in land, the ones on this farm seemed to yield the finest wool. The rate at which it grew was almost alarming. Between being spoiled by their shepherd, and never having to worry about a wolf attacking them, they were perhaps the happiest sheep as well. The goats grew soft coats of cashmere that needed shaving about once every four months. It could be made into soft clothing or blankets, easily dyed any sort of color. The upper class seemed to enjoy wearing it. Mostly because they could afford it. Once the animals were cared for, the garden came next. Fruits and vegetables were picked from the vines and taken into the house. The man himself didn't care much for food grown from the ground. Most of it was to feed his livestock. The lambs trailed after him eagerly as he walked into his home and dumped his pickings onto his counter. After having a few tiny hoofed feet jump up on his legs, the farmer finally caved and handed down a chopped apple. As the sun grew higher into the sky, the fleece and cashmere cut from the morning were bagged up into burlap sacks. With the aid of one of his donkeys, the man headed off towards the town with his load. ======================== It didn't take long to sell off his stock. The town's merchants always kept an eye out for the large man, whose head poked up above most others. When they saw his donkey carrying sacks, they would approach him with all ranges of offers. They would buy his fleece and process it, then sell it for twice the amount. The farmer knew good and well that he could make more profit if he really wanted to, but what use did he have for so much money? He took the pay he had and went down the road to his favorite tavern. It was an old tradition to come into town about once a week and enjoy the company of other people for a change. The man patted his donkey on the head as he tossed the loose sacks over it's back, sending it off to find its way home. For a beast of burden, it was incredibly smart. All of his creatures seemed to be. The man ducked his head as he stepped inside the tavern, his bare feet padding softly as he walked across the old wood floor to find a seat. It was a bit busy today, with faces that were both familiar and strange. The man sat himself down at one of the tables and waited for the nice young woman that worked here to bring him his usual.</s>
<\|description\|>Felan the Wolf Race: Skin-changer (based off of Tolkien fiction) Gender: Male Age: 35 Occupation: A simple sheep herder Personality/Interests: While usually gentle, Felan can be fierce if not given the respect he deserves. Like any creature of the forest, Felan must be respected in order for respect to be returned. He's loyal to those he calls friends, and generally mild mannered, but should one forget who he is, he's quick to remind them. Felan is very respectful of nature and her creatures. He only uses what he needs, and what he takes, he uses completely. Although he does have to kill animals to survive, he never considers hunting a great victory. It's simply something he has to do to live. He tends to get all sour when he sees others disrespecting these principals. Outside of his turf, he'll just tolerate it, but on his land, it is unacceptable. He doesn't care much for dwarves, seeing them as greedy creatures who do not respect the earth they mine. His feelings towards humans are kind of on the fence; while he's met very good ones, he's met bad ones as well. He's on pretty good terms with elfin folk, even if he thinks they're a bit stuck up. Magic-baring folk, he's a bit uneasy around. But he's willing to accept them. He absolutely hates goblins and ogres, usually killing them on sight if they intrude on his land. All other races of the land fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Appearance Details Felan is a big man. In his human form, he has copious amounts of hair. The hair on his head is long and black, his beard often grown out. On his back, it grows in a narrow mane that runs down his spine to his tailbone. The rest of his body is covered like that of an average man's, if not a bit thicker. It's smoother and softer than typical male human body hair, almost like fur. Body build: Tall and muscular Hair: Everywhere Hair color: Black Skin color: Caucasian, tanned by the sun. Eye/Iris color: Brown Height/Weight: A towering 6'8"/ 250 Notable Features: Scars litter his body from various spats with intruders Clothing Description: He's a man that clearly doesn't give much thought to his looks. Living alone and not knowing how to sew, his clothes tend to get a bit raggy. He often wears wool pants in various earth tones, and vests made of animal hide. May or may not be found wearing an actual shirt. Probably not. He doesn't get cold easily like your typical human, and since his shifting destroys it, clothing is typically light. Shoes are always forgotten. Equipment: He doesn't carry much Weapon: None Powers: Like every member of his species, he has the ability to take the form of a large, powerful animal whenever he chooses. His form is a great, black wolf with brown eyes. In this form, he stands 5 feet at the shoulder, with strength that surpasses your typical canine. Abilities: Can commune with canines, regardless of his form. Has acute senses. Feels a special connection with animals of any species. Talents: He's shown excellent farming skills. He's very good with his hands, having built his house with his own. Other: He lives on a homestead a few miles outside of town. There, he raises sheep who are said to have the silkiest wool in the country. He's quite popular with the merchants when he comes into town to sell it. The townspeople regard him as a strange hermit, but appreciate him for running off goblin raiders nevertheless. He lives alone, save for his animals. He has a few horses and ponies, quite a few sheep, birds that seem to just hang around, and a whole pack of dogs and wolves of every shape and size. All of whom wander his property and/or his house. Sessamaru: "Has a young and refreshing view on the world." Felan could get along well with him. Historia Saurvale: "A bit childish, but not a bad person." Saha Thulaja Era: "I get a bad vibe from this one." Probably won't get along too well. Katelia: "Not terribly sociable." She seems to be pretty decent to him, but he's still a little on the fence. Still, she's never done anything to make him hate her. Julio: "Seems nice enough." Azzrix Grimmor: "Kind of a shifty little fellow." He's not sure about this one. Margaret von Eisenberg: He's not fond of magic, and not fond of greed. She will probably rub him the wrong way. Naida Marcoon: "That's the nice girl that serves me my favorite ale every week." Drubbins: "I don't like ogres." Mysaren: "She seems nice. Haven't seen her around here before." Tahira Raske: "She seems nice, for a mage anyway." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Wish he'd stay off my damn land." Claire Alexandria: He doesn't really know what to think of her, but she hasn't offended him personally. Viggo Malmsteen: "Nice voice, awful person." Rouen Fulgur: "Pompous asshole."</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern "Oh, right..." she says in response to Sessamaru's answer to her previous question. She then notices Felan walk in and she smiles. "Give me one more minute, Sess." She flits over to Felan and says, "Usual, right?" She does not wait for an answer. Instead, she flies over to the cook herself and calls for Felan's usual. She then sits at the counter and waits for a few minutes, taking drink orders at the bar, the ones that the thief so loving bought for everyone. She quickly fills their orders and then looks back to see the cook is done with Felan's order. She quickly grabs it, passes out the rest of the drinks, and flies quickly back over to Felan and sets the plate down in front of him. "Here you go, darling!" she says with a gracious smile on her face. She then notices music playing for the first and she looks over to see Viggo. She sighs and rolls her eyes, walking over to him. "Hey, Viggo! What have we told you about casting spells on paying customers?" Naida yells, looking at the musician. She has not been affected by the spell because she is so used to him casting it. Also, her mermaid/faerie background makes it hard for spells to be cast on her. "You can keep playing, but take the spell off, mate. We don't need a riot just in case that spell goes wrong." She rolls her eyes at the guy again, but she flits quickly back over to the counter, grabs him a few more beers, and sets them down next to him, hoping that he won't order anymore afterwards. If this guy got drunk... Naida shakes her head and flies back over to Sessamaru, landing lightly next to him. "Do you think that will get him to stop casting spells on customers?" she asks him with a sigh. She runs a hand over her face and says, "I don't know why he does it. He should be able to get money on his own. This tavern isn't the only place in the realm to get money. Also, casting a spell on drunk people..." She grits her teeth and shakes her head before she grins at Sessamaru. She looks out the window and sees Kat talking to a knight-looking person, one that she hasn't seen around very often. She nudges Sess and asks, "Who's that?"</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Goddamn, that racket..." the old Zizz mumbled to himself some more as he let the herbal sensation roll around on the inside of his toothy snout. It would appear as though the newfangled magic rays of the man... woman... something-or-other had counteracted the calming essence of his Pipe. To take his mind off it, he eavesdropped on the two ladies conversing next to him. One of them, a winged girl who he vaguely recalled catching a glimpse of for a fraction of a second before, looked a bit strange, but that was, ironically, not very strange to a man like Rimau. The other one he didn't recognise, but he couldn't help but nod to himself as he listened to her talk about the dangers of naivete. Valuable stuff to teach a kid, of which there were too many who weren't taught that. Good news for him, though, was the re-appearance of Miss Naida, possibly the prettiest and most efficient bartender this side of... anywhere, really. The grin came back to him as he removed his Pipe and began to ramble to her. "Well, well, if it ain't my favourite bartender for the past week? Y'know, most bartenders I've seen don't 'ave wings an' can't flit about everywhere in a storm all fancy-like, an' that's pretty crazy 'cause it makes yer job real easy. Like, mint cash for nothin'-level easy. Reminds me o' this guy I saw once who set up his own bean farm, an'... well, it was pretty complicated, like, he had to sign a good mountain o' paperwork to even get 'imself the pen to sign the first of fifty million contracts with, an' there were, like, several thousand clauses designed to extort yer outta yer first-born son's soul... why's it always the first-born son, anyway? I mean, what 'ave all the devils got against the ladies? Hell, for that matter, why's it always virgin sacrifices? I'da thought the more experienced types would'a been considered, 'cause if yer gonna kill someone for some crazy kid in the sky, why bother bein' fussy? As if they 'ad standards all of a sudden? Pfft. That's a big problem we got nowadays, there ain't no professional standards, like that kid over there with his crappy 'music', an' if that were written down, that'd be in inverted commas, 'cause quite frankly, I dunno what he thinks he's achievin' tryin' to brainwash us into givin' him money with his fancy-shmancy magic rays. Look at 'at, backfire! I just got the courage to speak out against the lack o' professional standards in this day an' age! I remember a time an' a place where if you didn't 'ave standards, bullet to the 'ead fer you, hahahaha! Ahhh..." It only then dawned on him that she might not be particularly interested in his rambling, especially after he noticed her mumbling to some other kid, the one with dog ears glued to his skull. He took another puff of his Pipe to clear his head again. It was too early to be making a bad impression. "Sorry 'bout that, y'know I get a lil'... distracted when I ain't workin'. Anyways, lovely miss Naida, I don't s'pose y'could get me m'mornin' glass o' Orange Juice? I don't get these kiddos, I mean, look at 'em! Drinkin' Ale in the mornin'?! What kinda conduct is 'at? I once saw this one lady who drank a keg o' ale one Saturday mornin', an' lemme tell ya... uh... never mind. Y'ad to be there, anyways."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nearly dropped her fork when the music she had mostly ignored took a new turn. She felt a little...different. Restless? Not possible...she just spend a night in an alley, sleep hadn't been good. The same clenching feeling was clasping her chest. Magic? Was it the musician? She gave a searching look for the sound. Through the smoke, the many moving bodies and other obstructions, they barely caught the man thrashing about. Interesting, annoying, angering. A shaky sigh left the small woman. As if to calm her, her winged partner began to speak once more. Sharing pieces of her past and who she was. In turn, the third party of the trio gave her piece. A bit more to the point, a bit less informative. Not so jumpy anymore apparently? "...I'm afraid I have to agree with her Historia dear...Sometimes your past is to be...retained." She thought for a moment. "Though It doesn't seem you have anything to hide, which is quite..." She searched for a word. "Magical..." she decided. Her voice trailed off at that last word. Her tone was, sad, almost, but perhaps more so it seemed to be...longing. Perhaps envious. She tried to give a smile to accompany the word, but it didn't really find it's way out. "Thank you for sharing." She added softly. "Both of you..." She realized she had hardly addressed the other girl. Perhaps she should be making some effort to do so...</s>	<\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan sat quietly at his table as he waited, looking around at the patrons inside the tavern. There were a few new faces, but most he'd seen before. The girl that stayed here often, her name escaped him, was roaming about with her leopard. Felan was impressed by the creature. He had slightly embarrassed himself upon seeing it for the first time, having assumed it was a fellow skin changer. Obviously, that was not the case. He noticed an ogre was among the people bustling around, and Felan's lip curled slightly. He didn't care much for their kind, having had not-so-good experiences with them in the past. Of course, as long as the creature didn't act up, he wouldn't purposely cross paths with him. Another patron caught his eyes: a younger man casting magic on another customer. Felan watched, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Magic was not his forte. He didn't do it, didn't like it, and typically tried to avoid it. Before long, Naida swung by to take his order. Of course he just wanted his regular; Felan was a man of habit. Soon, it was on a plate in front of him: a juicy cut of meat, cooked very rare, and a glass of ale. His large hands fumbled with the eating utensils as he attempted to cut his food up. When at home, he wouldn't even bother. But in public, Felan made an attempt to appear remotely civilized.</s>
<\|description\|>Felan the Wolf Race: Skin-changer (based off of Tolkien fiction) Gender: Male Age: 35 Occupation: A simple sheep herder Personality/Interests: While usually gentle, Felan can be fierce if not given the respect he deserves. Like any creature of the forest, Felan must be respected in order for respect to be returned. He's loyal to those he calls friends, and generally mild mannered, but should one forget who he is, he's quick to remind them. Felan is very respectful of nature and her creatures. He only uses what he needs, and what he takes, he uses completely. Although he does have to kill animals to survive, he never considers hunting a great victory. It's simply something he has to do to live. He tends to get all sour when he sees others disrespecting these principals. Outside of his turf, he'll just tolerate it, but on his land, it is unacceptable. He doesn't care much for dwarves, seeing them as greedy creatures who do not respect the earth they mine. His feelings towards humans are kind of on the fence; while he's met very good ones, he's met bad ones as well. He's on pretty good terms with elfin folk, even if he thinks they're a bit stuck up. Magic-baring folk, he's a bit uneasy around. But he's willing to accept them. He absolutely hates goblins and ogres, usually killing them on sight if they intrude on his land. All other races of the land fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Appearance Details Felan is a big man. In his human form, he has copious amounts of hair. The hair on his head is long and black, his beard often grown out. On his back, it grows in a narrow mane that runs down his spine to his tailbone. The rest of his body is covered like that of an average man's, if not a bit thicker. It's smoother and softer than typical male human body hair, almost like fur. Body build: Tall and muscular Hair: Everywhere Hair color: Black Skin color: Caucasian, tanned by the sun. Eye/Iris color: Brown Height/Weight: A towering 6'8"/ 250 Notable Features: Scars litter his body from various spats with intruders Clothing Description: He's a man that clearly doesn't give much thought to his looks. Living alone and not knowing how to sew, his clothes tend to get a bit raggy. He often wears wool pants in various earth tones, and vests made of animal hide. May or may not be found wearing an actual shirt. Probably not. He doesn't get cold easily like your typical human, and since his shifting destroys it, clothing is typically light. Shoes are always forgotten. Equipment: He doesn't carry much Weapon: None Powers: Like every member of his species, he has the ability to take the form of a large, powerful animal whenever he chooses. His form is a great, black wolf with brown eyes. In this form, he stands 5 feet at the shoulder, with strength that surpasses your typical canine. Abilities: Can commune with canines, regardless of his form. Has acute senses. Feels a special connection with animals of any species. Talents: He's shown excellent farming skills. He's very good with his hands, having built his house with his own. Other: He lives on a homestead a few miles outside of town. There, he raises sheep who are said to have the silkiest wool in the country. He's quite popular with the merchants when he comes into town to sell it. The townspeople regard him as a strange hermit, but appreciate him for running off goblin raiders nevertheless. He lives alone, save for his animals. He has a few horses and ponies, quite a few sheep, birds that seem to just hang around, and a whole pack of dogs and wolves of every shape and size. All of whom wander his property and/or his house. Sessamaru: "Has a young and refreshing view on the world." Felan could get along well with him. Historia Saurvale: "A bit childish, but not a bad person." Saha Thulaja Era: "I get a bad vibe from this one." Probably won't get along too well. Katelia: "Not terribly sociable." She seems to be pretty decent to him, but he's still a little on the fence. Still, she's never done anything to make him hate her. Julio: "Seems nice enough." Azzrix Grimmor: "Kind of a shifty little fellow." He's not sure about this one. Margaret von Eisenberg: He's not fond of magic, and not fond of greed. She will probably rub him the wrong way. Naida Marcoon: "That's the nice girl that serves me my favorite ale every week." Drubbins: "I don't like ogres." Mysaren: "She seems nice. Haven't seen her around here before." Tahira Raske: "She seems nice, for a mage anyway." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Wish he'd stay off my damn land." Claire Alexandria: He doesn't really know what to think of her, but she hasn't offended him personally. Viggo Malmsteen: "Nice voice, awful person." Rouen Fulgur: "Pompous asshole."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau wasn't particularly surprised when Naida ignored his rambling requests; she was a busy lady, after all. It seemed like she had more important matters to attend to anyway; a new fellow at the door, for instance. Taking another puff of his Pipe to calm his nerves and stop any further rambling that morning, he turned his long, scaled neck back to observe the scene that went down at the door. The newcomer that Naida and the dog-eared man welcomed was a rather fancy-looking fellow, and not in a good way. With his ridiculous armour configuration and oversized sword, he just screamed 'compensating'. "Hmph, greedy bastard..." He mumbled to himself in stern disapproval. "...Look at 'at silly kid, with 'at huge sword an' even huger pauldron. What's the frickin' point of a pauldron if it only protects one arm? I bet all 'at weight is gonna break 'is flimsy arm, an' we can play a game o' swingball with it, heheh..." Rimau coughed a few times after that little chuckle at the newcomer's expense. He thought that perhaps he was being a little too harsh; after all, you can never judge a book by its cover, a philosophy Rimau often hoped his enemies were ignorant of. All the more amusing when their brains shot out the back of their heads. Twisting his neck and torso a bit further, he took another look at the Sheep-herder at the table some distance away, busy stuffing his mouth with steak; 'Steak, in the mornin'!' He thought to himself. 'What is the damn world comin' to? What sort o' testosterone poisonin' 'as consumed the people o' Ranaamar? Ale an' steak in the mornin', an' oversized pauldrons... no wonder my job's easy. At least the Tarzblik rebels 'ad the good sense to lay low an' all that.' Rimau took yet another puff to stop the internal ranting, and it hit him. The Sheep-herder; Felan, he believed he was called; seemed like a reasonable enough fellow under the right circumstances. Maybe he wasn't a fan of his control strategies, sure, but if he knew there was the biggest Wolf the world has ever seen on his land, maybe he'd reconsider his position. With this in mind, the old Zizz clambered down from his stool and, once again, manuevered through the crowds to the table at which the shirtless man sat. He couldn't help but admire his cleanliness, when you consider his decidedly unclean appearance. Another example of not judging books by covers. "'Ey, Mister Felan." He began to speak to him curtly, pulling up one of the empty chairs nearby. "Good to see yer 'ere this mornin'. 'Ow's things in the land o' the ol' Sheep? Pretty adventurous career, huh? Like, I bet they could write a good number o' sheep 'erdin' instruction manuals based on- ahh, I'm just messin' with ya, kid." Realising he might have sounded a little sarcastic, he quickly pulled that last bit in. He attempted to puff on his Pipe again, only to discover the bountiful herbs inside had stopped burning, even though they were nowhere near finished. Grumbling, he took out another match and tried to strike it against his wooden chair, keeping it out of Felan's view so as to not annoy him too much. "Y'know..." He started again, making some little grumbles as he attempted to light the match again during his pauses. "...I know we've 'ad some... unfortunate encounters in the past, an' it only makes sense. I mean... yer a big-money landowner an' I'm a freelance 'unter, so it's inevitable we'd butt 'eads every once in a good while. Ah! There we go... 'ope y'don't mind." He inserted that last segment of speech as he finally managed to strike his match, alerting Felan to the re-lighting of his smoking implement. Once he lit it, he drew in some more calm-smoke to increase his focus. This was an important proposition. "Now, in spite of all I jus' said, I do think that deep down, yer a good kid; a smart kid, an' I know yer'd put these... minor, niggly lil' issues aside for the sake o' the greater good. Is that how y'warmbloods say it, the 'greater good'? Yeah, must be. What am I gettin' 'at 'ere, I can already hear y'askin' in 'at growly voice o' yers? Well, I got me a lil' proposition fer you, kid. An' I think yer'll like it a lot. Like it like... that steak there."</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern Naida sees the look of irritation on his face and cringes. She does not exactly have a filter when it comes to saying things and she is so used to treating people like they are younger than she is. She listens to him for a few moments before answering his question. "Of course we can go inside. The Blue Moon is one of the best taverns in the realm!" Naida's grin gets wide. She leads him inside and flits over to the counter. "I'm assuming, since you're new here, that you probably don't know what to drink. Ask anyone! I will always know what you want to drink even when you don't know it yourself." She flits back over to him, her wings shedding fairy dust and glitter everywhere. She eyes him up and down and circles him before saying, "You could probably use a nice Fey Buster ale. That's a classic here and with a bit of my touch, it will taste like the Gods made it themselves." She grins at him and flies back over the counter. Moving rapidly, she grabs a large ale glass, one big enough for the large man, and begins to fill it with ale. Being back in the Tavern and farther away from the she-demon allows Naida to have her energy back. She moves quickly, sprinkling a little bit of fairy dust in the ale in between mixes and pours. She then shakes the ale up. Because the glass is clear, it is noticeable when the ale changes from a light brown color to more a of golden silvery color. She smiles at the color before flying back over to Rouen and handing him the drink. "Here you go. One of my specialties. Because you're new around here, this one's on the house." She gives him a smile. "It will warm up you right quick and make you feel like a new man." She watches him closely. "If you need a place to stay, we have empty rooms here. A lot of our customers live here actually. We have a homely kind of feel to us." She smiles at him again and waits for him to take a drink. She looks over at Sess and gives him a smile as well. No one has ever not liked her ale, unless it was another fey or mermaid. They have tasted it all before.</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Sessamaru studied the man, and he couldn't help but feel a tingling sensation. This man possessed power and it was tangible, especially to someone closely connected to the Nexus, the source of all energies. Rouen looked strong and held himself with a certain amount of self-importance. Though he was human, Sess knew of humans that could prove to be a threat to peace, whether they meant well or not. This man... Sessamaru felt he needed to keep close attention to him, otherwise the peace he strove for would fall into ruin. Nevertheless, he held his smile, undeterred by his body language. Throughout it all, he did not notice Naida's fingers digging into his arm and when she relieved the pressure to invite the man in, he looked down to his arm. With a shrug, he turned to Katelia and gave her a warm smile. She was a welcome sight to sore eyes, his cautious nature fading away. "Miss Katelia," Sessamaru greeted, then he turned his attention to her ally. "Mister Hel," he added, kneeling and scratching the leopard behind the ears. "Why don't you stay a while? It would be great if you two could enjoy what the Tavern has to offer." Sessamaru rose slowly, turning his attention back onto Naida and the knight. Naida smiled at him as she made the man a Fey Buster Ale, her most famous drink. "This place could use a little livening up, after all!" He laughed, turning back to the young woman. The half-breed outstretched his left hand to her, hoping she would accept his offer to remain.</s>	<\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan stayed to himself, big surprise there, while he ate his second breakfast as civilly as possible. At some point, he had stopped fooling around with the knife and just skewered large chunks of meat on his fork. But at least he was using a fork. He was near the point of finishing, already thinking of the chores he had at home, when one of the tavern's patrons came over to his table. Felan looked up as a lizard man sat down in front of him. The lizard man. The one he had caught trying to hunt on his land several times. The large man frowned. The reptile began on about some offer he had, each word only digging himself deeper. Felan stared at him with an expression of complete uninterest. The words chosen by the reptile were not very flattering; it was clear that striking deals was not his strong point. When he finally finished, Felan having polished off the last of his meal, the skin changer pushed his plate aside. "I am not a goat, and I am not a child. I would appreciate if you would stop referring to me as one," He said, his voice almost like a growl. He was blatantly displeased. Felan didn't care how old the lizard was. He was a full grown man, and he refused to be called a 'kid', especially by a being who clearly lacked good judgement. "And whatever offer you think you have, you can forget it. I have no care for anything you can provide."</s>
<\|description\|>Felan the Wolf Race: Skin-changer (based off of Tolkien fiction) Gender: Male Age: 35 Occupation: A simple sheep herder Personality/Interests: While usually gentle, Felan can be fierce if not given the respect he deserves. Like any creature of the forest, Felan must be respected in order for respect to be returned. He's loyal to those he calls friends, and generally mild mannered, but should one forget who he is, he's quick to remind them. Felan is very respectful of nature and her creatures. He only uses what he needs, and what he takes, he uses completely. Although he does have to kill animals to survive, he never considers hunting a great victory. It's simply something he has to do to live. He tends to get all sour when he sees others disrespecting these principals. Outside of his turf, he'll just tolerate it, but on his land, it is unacceptable. He doesn't care much for dwarves, seeing them as greedy creatures who do not respect the earth they mine. His feelings towards humans are kind of on the fence; while he's met very good ones, he's met bad ones as well. He's on pretty good terms with elfin folk, even if he thinks they're a bit stuck up. Magic-baring folk, he's a bit uneasy around. But he's willing to accept them. He absolutely hates goblins and ogres, usually killing them on sight if they intrude on his land. All other races of the land fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Appearance Details Felan is a big man. In his human form, he has copious amounts of hair. The hair on his head is long and black, his beard often grown out. On his back, it grows in a narrow mane that runs down his spine to his tailbone. The rest of his body is covered like that of an average man's, if not a bit thicker. It's smoother and softer than typical male human body hair, almost like fur. Body build: Tall and muscular Hair: Everywhere Hair color: Black Skin color: Caucasian, tanned by the sun. Eye/Iris color: Brown Height/Weight: A towering 6'8"/ 250 Notable Features: Scars litter his body from various spats with intruders Clothing Description: He's a man that clearly doesn't give much thought to his looks. Living alone and not knowing how to sew, his clothes tend to get a bit raggy. He often wears wool pants in various earth tones, and vests made of animal hide. May or may not be found wearing an actual shirt. Probably not. He doesn't get cold easily like your typical human, and since his shifting destroys it, clothing is typically light. Shoes are always forgotten. Equipment: He doesn't carry much Weapon: None Powers: Like every member of his species, he has the ability to take the form of a large, powerful animal whenever he chooses. His form is a great, black wolf with brown eyes. In this form, he stands 5 feet at the shoulder, with strength that surpasses your typical canine. Abilities: Can commune with canines, regardless of his form. Has acute senses. Feels a special connection with animals of any species. Talents: He's shown excellent farming skills. He's very good with his hands, having built his house with his own. Other: He lives on a homestead a few miles outside of town. There, he raises sheep who are said to have the silkiest wool in the country. He's quite popular with the merchants when he comes into town to sell it. The townspeople regard him as a strange hermit, but appreciate him for running off goblin raiders nevertheless. He lives alone, save for his animals. He has a few horses and ponies, quite a few sheep, birds that seem to just hang around, and a whole pack of dogs and wolves of every shape and size. All of whom wander his property and/or his house. Sessamaru: "Has a young and refreshing view on the world." Felan could get along well with him. Historia Saurvale: "A bit childish, but not a bad person." Saha Thulaja Era: "I get a bad vibe from this one." Probably won't get along too well. Katelia: "Not terribly sociable." She seems to be pretty decent to him, but he's still a little on the fence. Still, she's never done anything to make him hate her. Julio: "Seems nice enough." Azzrix Grimmor: "Kind of a shifty little fellow." He's not sure about this one. Margaret von Eisenberg: He's not fond of magic, and not fond of greed. She will probably rub him the wrong way. Naida Marcoon: "That's the nice girl that serves me my favorite ale every week." Drubbins: "I don't like ogres." Mysaren: "She seems nice. Haven't seen her around here before." Tahira Raske: "She seems nice, for a mage anyway." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Wish he'd stay off my damn land." Claire Alexandria: He doesn't really know what to think of her, but she hasn't offended him personally. Viggo Malmsteen: "Nice voice, awful person." Rouen Fulgur: "Pompous asshole."</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen followed Naida into the tavern. As she spoke to him he got chance to take a look around. "The inn-keep wasn't lying about this place being comely," he thought and relaxed. There were several tables and some chairs with seats made of some material that looked very comfortable to sit on. The walls were decorated, and there even was a stand for performers. He didn't know if there was something in the atmosphere, or maybe it was a result of the decorations, that put him in a trance. "This place feels...really nice after months out in the woods,"he pondered. He hardly took notice of the other patrons in the inn. "-It will warm up you right quick and make you feel like a new man," he heard from the white-haired lady. His eyes widened as he realized that he wasn't exactly paying attention to anything that she was saying. She continued talking and offered him what looked like some kind of ale. "Never seen ale with that color before, well it can't be too bad," he thought. "Thank you-er Naida right? Sorry, Miss I'm bad with names," he replied uneasily. He raised the glass and was about to take a sip when he felt something hit him hard on the back of his head. He flinched and he spilled the drink into his jerkin. "Who did-," he said and his brows came together in an expression of shock. He looked behind and saw the village-girl with her pet cat looking at him, hand drifting to her side. "Look asshole, I don't give a shit what dukedom or castle or whatever you grew up in, and I don't need your pity," he heard. She then walked away saying, "You talk to me again, I'm letting my pet tear your throat out." Rouen's eye twitched. "Why that little uncultured selfish ungrateful crettin," he fumed and clenched both of his hands into fists. His body reacted to his emotional state as he felt electric currents run from his head to his feet and back. A small buzzing noise resounded from the glass half-filled with ale in his hand as the current ran into it generating static shock. He took a step forward.</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Katelia's outburst made Sessamaru take a step back, his expression quizzical. Whoa! She's a powder keg! he thought, worried. However, he held his ground as he approached her once more. When she lashed out at him, an expression of pain flashed across his face. It has nothing to do with you, he reassured himself, knowing she wasn't angry at him. He turned to face the man. Sess was no stranger to judgement, and Rouen's eyes screamed superiority. Katelia's reentrance to the tavern was not a beautiful one, and Sess felt the tension between her and the man. The swordmage felt a much larger surge of power, his eyes widening in alarm. Thinking frantically, he took hurried steps back inside the tavern and... "Ack!" He tripped. He fell forward into a wild roll and faceplanted into the bar. The swordmage felt great pain in his nose and chin, his forehead very sore. He felt something wet on his head, but he was unsure of what it was. [Rupert] Rupert, minding his own wizardly business drinking his magical drink, leaped from his seat with a start, dropping his bottle. The liquid inside poured over a familiar figure's head. He turned, when his near-fatal heart attack ended, and glared at the person. "Dagnabbit, you pup!" He howled, glaring at Sess who was drenched in Regulus Blue, a liquid that was clear with a bluish glow. "First you unleash a wave of magic due to your own stupidity, and now you're wasting my perfectly good mead? I'll have your ears for this!" The old grump went on, sending his ancient foot into Sess's stomach. Upon impact, both Sess and Rupert howled out in pain, the old man hopping around, crying, "my foot! My beautifully aged foot!" Whilst Sess simply lay where he was, dazed after the initial howl.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern Naida grins as Rouen takes his first sip of her famous drink. She squints her eyes and sees his aura electrify with energy and smiles. That fairy dust was from her own personal collection that she collects off her wings and cleans every day so that she can have some to make this drink with. It was a lot of the customers' favorite drink because it gave them energy. Suddenly, she hears a crash behind her and she whips around to see Sessamaru lying on the ground underneath the bar with Rupert's Regulus Blue drink all over him. Rupert then kicks him and she cringes at the howling. She swears under her breath and flits over to Sess, helping him to his feet. She grabs a towel from back behind the bar, creates an ice ball out of the water in the air and wraps the towel around the ice ball, grabbing Sess's hand and placing the towel with the ball in it. She then presses the hand with the towel in it to his stomach and forces him to hold it there before she flits over to Rupert. "Here, take this Rupert!" she says over his yelling. She hands him a similar ice ball in a towel before flitting back over to the spill. She takes a deep breath, sucking in her stomach, and holds out her hands. Silvery glitter flutters from her hand and the mead begins to lift up from the wooden floor. Once she has all of the mead from the cracks of the wood, she grabs the glass that Rupert had and puts the mead back into it, making sure that she gets every drop of it from Sess and from the wood. She pours the ruined mead out and gets Rupert another glass of his mead. She sighs and sets the glass down on the back. She looks over at Sess and says, "I can't leave you for two minutes without you getting into trouble, can I?" she says with a teasing tone.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia was waiting for a response from her acquaintances (was it too soon to call them friends?) when she noticed that things were starting to...well, a ruckus was starting again. In one part of the Tavern, the bard was starting an argument with a red head lady, and in another part...yelling already. Historia turned just in time to see something shiny fly over and hit a knight looking man on the head. oh...this wasn't going to be good. Historia wondered if there was something she could do, as noble's were no stranger to her past, so she started to get up. As she did so, so did the knight...while Mr.Sess tripped nearby, hitting his face right on the bar, then having Mr. Rupurt's drink spilled on him to add insult to injury... before Mr.Rupurt added an extra layer of injury onto that by kicking Mr. Sess in the stomach, causing them both pain. Historia winced a little as she watched Miss Naida start to tend to him, before turning back to the knight. "Oh for the love of..." Not only was he standing there, looking like he was about to kill someone, but it looked like he was going after Miss Kat. Sure, alone, the knight would have probably been too much for Miss Kat, but Miss Kat also had Hel...Historia noticed that the knight took a step forward, towards Miss Kat and Hel and she realized someone had to do something before things got out of hand. Though it probably wasn't the wisest decision she had ever made in her life, Historia decided she would try. "Excuse me for a minute." She said nervously to her companions and quick walked over to in front of (but not too close) to the knight...with her back to Hel. Historia certainly had come full circle when it came to cats today hadn't she... "E-Excuse me M'lord." She stuttered a bit before taking a breath trying to calm down. "I understand that you are upset right now, but we've already had some problems in this tavern today..." She took another breath, "Starting a fight wouldn't do any good right now, and I am sure that a man of stature would be able to put whatever transgression that has went down between you and Miss Kat behind you for the good of the public." Historia bowed a little "I'm sorry if I come off a bit rude and putting my nose where it doesn't belong, but currently this Tavern is my home and I'd like for nothing else to happen in it today."</s>	<\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan began to tune the lizard out for a bit as the scene behind him caught his attention. Some poor bastard was trying to pick a fight with Kat, the tavern's hunter. He craned his neck to look the offender up and down, an amused smirk briefly gracing his lips. Then the zizz regained his attention. He turned back to the lizard man, a stern frown reappearing on his face. "A wolf?" He asked flatly. "Yes, I've seen it a couple times." Felan was very clearly not impressed by this information. "And I've never had trouble with it, or any wolf for that matter. Maybe if you keep your ass off my land, you won't either." There was almost a threatening undertone there. Felan didn't like killing; he figured every life he took was a little more taken from his own. Unless it was a goblin life, of course. But regardless, he only had so much patience. If the lizard kept slithering around his land, Felan would give him a reason to pack.</s>
<\|description\|>Azzrix Grimmor Race: Ratman Gender: male Age: 20 Occupation: gentleman Thief, noble, he is also intraining to become an assassin Personality/Interests: at first glance Azzrix seems laid back and not really caring, but that is not the case. He is a firm believer in the term blood is thicker than water, to him his family and their honor is most important to him. This a trait that most of his family. In terms of alignment Azzrix is lawful neutral. He is a devout follower in his family's codes of thievery and assassination. Honor his very important to him and unless he is doing an assassination Azzrix will almost never stab someone in the back both literally and figuratively. Azzrix has no qualms with killing to make his reputation as an assassin known throughout the land. Vengeance is another trait of his personality and he will not think twice before getting revenge on those who have greatly offended. He can be good fun when he is not on mission and is willing to have a nice drink and talk with anyone who isn't an enemy. Despite his deceptive nature, Azzrix is very loyal to his friends and allies, he will never betray a friend or ally unless they have betrayed him. Azzrix also has a superiority complex and thinks of himself as being the greatest thief in the world and superior to people outside of his family. Even though he thinks extremely highly of his skills, he will still be willing to learn new skills and techniques in thievery. He is extremely persuasive and deceptive, which has helped him become a gentlemen thief. Azzrix believes that deceiving and talking right is just as an important aspect of thievery as sneakiness is. If you insult his family then he he will kill you or maim you badly for your dishonorable words. Mentally he is very smart and extremely cunning. Azzrix is not someone you want to get into a battle of wits with and he will try to always think up another plan if the last one fails thanks to great skill in multitasking. His family code states that that he cannot steal from or assassinate the poor. His family believe that a proper challenge offers more fame and fortune, and Azzrix follows this code to the letter. Appearance: He looks like an anthropomorphic rat and is very well groomed and carries himself like a noble. Details Body build: he very well built, he is short but he has the muscles to go toe to toe with bigger opponents. His legs are of the right proportion to give him great agility evasiveness Hair: fur Hair color: blueish gray Skin color: bluish gray Eye/Iris color: blue Height/Weight: five feet and five inches tall Notable Features: he has a crescent moon mark on his cheek. Clothing Description: he is from a noble family so his clothes are very well made and he could blend in perfectly as a socialite. Equipment Weapon(s) Rapier Parrying Dagger hand crossbow Throwing Knives Powers: he can communicate with and command rats. Abilities: Ratmen are excellent climbers and have incredible senses especially sight and smell and are able to see in the dark. They also are extremely agile and can barely make a sound while running. Ratmen are very hardy and stout and can take hits and keep going thanks to their tougher bone structures. And they are by no means weak, they can hold their own in a fight of strnegth. Talents: Azzrix has been trained in the art of thievery since he was a very young child and as a teenager he began his assassin training, all of these have given him great skills in these fields. He is an incredibly fast climber and a great jumper, he once was able to clear a fifteen foot span from one roof top to another. Azzrix is an excellent swordsman and knife thrower, having trained in fancing and knife throwing since he was eight years old. He has also trained with light crossbows and is a very good marksmen. He is also an incredible unarmed combatant and thanks to his amazing agility Azzrix is amazingly evasiveness and can dodge extremely well. Azzrix is a great linguist and is excellent at learning and mastering languages. Magic: he has no magic impressions</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire tried to nod to the chef as some form of thankful recognition, but he was gone to work before their eyes could meet. She let her eyes trail back to the interior, a winged girl who had just sat down near her, was now walking towards one wall of the tavern. Claire watched as she went and fearlessly spoke with a stranger. An armed stranger. As the girl seemed to start walking back, Claire jerked her head down. Starring was rude. A friendly voice to her side drew her eyes back up in mere seconds though. The same winged girl was sitting next to her, a warm smile on her lips. "Oh.." Claire muttered mindlessly. "Ah...My name is...Claire." She looked the girl up and down, taking in a few more details now that she wasn't moving. An interesting soul, to be sure. "No I don't mind...I was just hoping for company actually." A sort of lie, but she didn't wan't to push this girl away. She seemed quite nice. Claire looked past her new conversation partner to eye the other girl Historia had spoken to. It seems they were also invited over. Interesting... Almost as interesting as the one armed girl with a panther. That would be hard to beat though. She walked through the inner workings of the business with some obvious comfort, and went to sit with her...pet. Claire studied them for a moment. Interesting, interesting, interesting. "I have some food coming...if you don't mind." She mentioned to Historia. Some found it odd when one person ate in a group of others who didn't, and she didn't know if this winged fellow had any of her own coming or not. Not to mention the shifty third party in their little group. She regarded again the girl who was now sitting next to Historia, they seemed to be busy looking for a chance to ask the barkeep something. Maybe she would wait until they spoke first...</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Malmsteen exits the lavatory, readjusting his belt as he looks at the newly repopulated tavern. His cruel gaze falls upon each member of the tavern in turn, judging everyone silently as he makes his way to the makeshift stage in the corner of the main floor. Grabbing a small stool as he passes, Viggo climbs onto the stage and takes his guitar off his back, saddling it across his chest. Once on stage, the pale musician sits and sheds his heavy black-leather jacket, letting it crumple to the ground behind him. Clearing his throat once, Viggo begins to tune his instrument, letting the strings twang softly as their pitch raises and lowers. After a few minutes of housekeeping, Viggo runs his calloused palm across the neck of his remarkable guitar, and begins to play. The melody is plucky and sharp, but has a certain harmony to it. The song rises and falls as Viggo's fingers climb up and down the neck of his instrument, his blond hair cascading forward and hiding his face as he continues to play the tune. The sophistication of the jaunty little ballad would inspire a foot-tap from anyone in a decent enough mood, and generally provides the otherwise quiet establishment with a pleasant and relaxing atmosphere. 'I bet none of these losers even recognise this as Zwelf's Fourth Ballad' he thinks to himself as he continues to play, 'Bah, to hell with such thoughts, I don't need their compliments or musical taste, only their coin...' he muses quietly, grinning as he continues to pluck at his fantastical guitar. After a little while, his song concludes, giving Viggo a chance to kick forward a small pail with a few shillings and silver pieces in it.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia glanced over at the door when she heard...she thought her name was Miss Katelia and the....big...cat Hel...Historia shuddered slightly. She had had enough of cats for today...So she turned her attention right back to the woman that she had sat down beside. "Claire, that's a nice name." Historia said with a smile. She looked over to Miss Claire again. There was something on her that didn't look weathered, which was the sash around Miss Claire's waist. It was a really pretty sash, and it made Historia wonder if perhaps it had some sort of special meaning to Miss Claire or if she just really liked it. "As for food," Historia said, responding to what Miss Claire told her, "I was thinking of ordering some myself in a minute." She added before turning around to Miss Mysaren. Historia didn't really notice before that she smelled a bit...funny...and she was covered in dirt...Perhaps she was a grave digger or something like that? "Will you be ordering something yourself?" Historia asked her. No sooner had Historia asked that though, did Historia notice that there was some music playing. She looked slightly past Miss Mysaren to see a man playing on the little makeshift stage. The tune was lovely, though Historia didn't know if it was a common tune or if the musician had written it himself as she was still getting used to this country. Historia then turned her full attention back to Miss Mysaren, deciding that perhaps she would talk with the musician later.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren Location: Blue Moon Tavern Mysaren looked up at Historia, smiling again. "Hm? Oh, uhm, probably just a drink or two," She said, seeing no reason to lie. She'd left behind that part of her self, or at least, she liked to think she did. "I was actually looking to get a room here for a while." She was still a bit intimidated by the bartender, owner, who ever he was. He seemed to be able to look through everything about her, and it made her a bit twitchy. She felt her stomach flip at the smell of food cooking, and she hadn't eaten in a while, but she couldn't afford it, not if she wanted to get a room. She'd have to sell off her loot soon, or she may have to live off of whatever she can find for a while. She heard the music start, and turned her head to watch the man playing perform. He wasn't bad, she had to admit. She wasn't a fan, but there was skill, she could appreciate that much. She turned back around after a while though, only half listening. The tune almost sounded familiar, but she couldn't put a name to it. She sighed, desperate for a drink and a nice, hot meal.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern A ruckus could be heard outside the tavern, banging and rumbling. Suddenly, the doors to the tavern burst inward and a shower of glitter follows behind a speeding streak of blue and white. Naida skids to a stop in the middle of the tavern and looks around with a large smile on her face. "Woah! Fast start to a day huh?!" she says rapidly, looking around. "Sorry I'm late!" She flies over to counter, pulling on her skirt apron and giving Bernard a kiss on the cheek. "Hey Bernard baby!" Her silvery blue and white hair flies about her head as some of the people at the counter begin shouting orders at her. She smiles quickly and says, "Coming right up!" She whips out a drink mixer and begins to pour the orders, pouring faster than any normal bartender could go. She pushes the drinks down the bar to the customers and she grins again. Before Bernard can even ask, Naida is out at the tables, taking orders and moving faster than those other waitresses could even go. She smiles at each of the customers and gives them each her best attention. "You want an omelet? Sure! I can whip that up in a jiff. What about you, hun? A bloodied steak? Coming right up!" Moving as a blur, she flits back over to the kitchen and shouts orders to the cook before turning around and smiling at Bernard again. "I think that makes up for a little of my tardiness, don't you think?" Before he can answer again, she wanders back over to the bar and looks around. She notices Historia in the corner and yells, "Hey darling! Glad to see ya here!" She also notices that she's talking to a new girl and says, "Hey, girly! You look great!" She turns back to Bernard and asks, "Has the demon been in yet?" She chuckles kindheartedly, thinking of Kat. She should really begin to try to get along with her, but she really can't. It's in her nature. She looks around and notices Sessamaru in a corner, hovering above the ground. She grins and, moving quietly, she walks over to him sneakily. "Hiya, Sess!" she says loudly, right next to his ear.</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf .</s>	<\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix had a large bag full of going coins on his belt, this was thanks to his latest thievery from a greedy noble who had unfairly taxed the peasants and robbed them of their money. While he didn't give a single bit of care at the unfairness that was done to the peasants, he did however like stealing the man's money and got a laugh when he heard the man's screams of anger upon seeing that he had been robbed. Azzrix was now going to celebrate his success with his thievery. He came to the Blue Moon Tavern as the early lights of the morning began to come over the horizon, and Azzrix wanted to get a drink and was willing to share his wealth with the lucky people who were in the tavern at the time. He grinned at the thought of having the best food that the business could over and he was going drink till he fell to the floor. He quickly walked up to the tavern and came with a loud boom as he made the door bang open, and he gave them all a smile. Azzrix held up his bag of gold coins and shook it making it create a jingling noise. "Bartender! A plate of your finest meat and cheese and drinks for me and everyone in here! I am here to celebrate my recent amass of wealth." he said to everyone with a big smile. He hoped that this act of generosity would make him liked among the tavern goers and help get him some allies in case a mission came up that he would need assistance with.</s>
<\|description\|>Azzrix Grimmor Race: Ratman Gender: male Age: 20 Occupation: gentleman Thief, noble, he is also intraining to become an assassin Personality/Interests: at first glance Azzrix seems laid back and not really caring, but that is not the case. He is a firm believer in the term blood is thicker than water, to him his family and their honor is most important to him. This a trait that most of his family. In terms of alignment Azzrix is lawful neutral. He is a devout follower in his family's codes of thievery and assassination. Honor his very important to him and unless he is doing an assassination Azzrix will almost never stab someone in the back both literally and figuratively. Azzrix has no qualms with killing to make his reputation as an assassin known throughout the land. Vengeance is another trait of his personality and he will not think twice before getting revenge on those who have greatly offended. He can be good fun when he is not on mission and is willing to have a nice drink and talk with anyone who isn't an enemy. Despite his deceptive nature, Azzrix is very loyal to his friends and allies, he will never betray a friend or ally unless they have betrayed him. Azzrix also has a superiority complex and thinks of himself as being the greatest thief in the world and superior to people outside of his family. Even though he thinks extremely highly of his skills, he will still be willing to learn new skills and techniques in thievery. He is extremely persuasive and deceptive, which has helped him become a gentlemen thief. Azzrix believes that deceiving and talking right is just as an important aspect of thievery as sneakiness is. If you insult his family then he he will kill you or maim you badly for your dishonorable words. Mentally he is very smart and extremely cunning. Azzrix is not someone you want to get into a battle of wits with and he will try to always think up another plan if the last one fails thanks to great skill in multitasking. His family code states that that he cannot steal from or assassinate the poor. His family believe that a proper challenge offers more fame and fortune, and Azzrix follows this code to the letter. Appearance: He looks like an anthropomorphic rat and is very well groomed and carries himself like a noble. Details Body build: he very well built, he is short but he has the muscles to go toe to toe with bigger opponents. His legs are of the right proportion to give him great agility evasiveness Hair: fur Hair color: blueish gray Skin color: bluish gray Eye/Iris color: blue Height/Weight: five feet and five inches tall Notable Features: he has a crescent moon mark on his cheek. Clothing Description: he is from a noble family so his clothes are very well made and he could blend in perfectly as a socialite. Equipment Weapon(s) Rapier Parrying Dagger hand crossbow Throwing Knives Powers: he can communicate with and command rats. Abilities: Ratmen are excellent climbers and have incredible senses especially sight and smell and are able to see in the dark. They also are extremely agile and can barely make a sound while running. Ratmen are very hardy and stout and can take hits and keep going thanks to their tougher bone structures. And they are by no means weak, they can hold their own in a fight of strnegth. Talents: Azzrix has been trained in the art of thievery since he was a very young child and as a teenager he began his assassin training, all of these have given him great skills in these fields. He is an incredibly fast climber and a great jumper, he once was able to clear a fifteen foot span from one roof top to another. Azzrix is an excellent swordsman and knife thrower, having trained in fancing and knife throwing since he was eight years old. He has also trained with light crossbows and is a very good marksmen. He is also an incredible unarmed combatant and thanks to his amazing agility Azzrix is amazingly evasiveness and can dodge extremely well. Azzrix is a great linguist and is excellent at learning and mastering languages. Magic: he has no magic impressions</s> <\|message\|>Margaret von Eisenberg Spark Just when Margaret thought her prediction about the day would true, a few things happened that spoke otherwise. At first, the one called Azzrix arrived and ordered ale. Perfect! Nothing like a glass of something mild to ease the body out of the hangover. Just as she was about to thank the rat, the light dimmed significantly in the room. Squinting, she found out it was an ogre obstructing her sun. Were it anyone else, she might have gone to complain, but with the sheer size of him and his most likely disproportionate intellect, the witch thought it wise to keep her mouth shut. Oh, and somebody unleashed the magical equivalent of a fart. Oh joy. Fortunately, Margaret wasn't as affected as one might believe. first of all, her affinity for magic was considerably lower than that of a wizard, and second was the little charm hanging around her neck. It was a silver chain with a stylized figure of a human hanging on it, with it's head replaced by a sapphire decorated with cracks that were tainted in crimson. the stone seemed to be giving off a faint glow that was diminishing slowly. Still, it wasn't anything she would like to repeat. If only because it made the bartender use that hellish bell that made her head ring for long minutes afterwards. She was soon distracted form her misery though as she was approached by someone. Looking at the source of the question, her eyes fell on a robed woman, possibly younger than herself but who could tell under that hood. Tahira, was it? She has seen - or rather not - her around the library. It sparked a little bit of interest in the witch, even if only a professional one. "Aye, it wasn't anything worth repeating. Much like most of the musical numbers around here." Margaret nodded, waving her hand to an empty chair at the table she was occupying. "But these things make wonders." she said and tucked on the charm around her neck.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren felt the burst of energy, and felt Historia's wings close around her. She was forced back into her seat, her hand slipping from her blade again from the force of it all. It all happened so fast, and her entire body shook by the end of it, her mouth held open. She had her hand on her bag, about to run, but decided to stay. Some of the commotion had finally calmed down, and the plate was set in front of her by one of the mysterious men the owner brought in. "T-thanks." She gulped to Historia. She started to nibble on her food, her hunger replaced by panic and hysteria. Yet, the screaming still hadn't started. This was past weird, and ventured into utterly terrifying. A burst of energy like that should've killed something, he knew it. One of the older folks in the tavern, hell even a gnat on the wall, but death seemed to escape this place, and it scared her. Death was natural, something that was around every corner. Mysaren was almost too well acquainted with how common death was, especially in a tavern like this, but she felt a deep worry in her chest. Something was off. She started to eat anyways, though. Maybe the lack of food recently was makin her a bit skittish. She still scarfed down the meal quickly though, not caring that anyone was watching. She was starving, utterly and truly starving, and a hot meal was happily accepted. She still needed a bath though, a bath and some nice clothes. That would make the day go a whole lot better.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku The old Zizz soon descended the stairs and entered the main room of the tavern, scanning his head from left to right. It was considerably busier than usual this morning, he noticed. Lots of strange folk hanging around, too. There was some fancy-pants Rodent hanging about; could've sworn he's seen that one before. But there was something even stranger next to him; a giant Ogre was standing there with a pint in his hand (seemed like a woefully inadequate amount for a creature of his size), laughing in the Rodent's face. He couldn't see the Rodent's face, and that was a shame, because he'd probably have been putting on a funny expression. Off in one of the corners, he squinted at the redhead witch hanging about in the shade. It wasn't an evil squint, mind you, but a competitive squint; he had been at the tavern for about a week now, and had had ample opportunity to acquaint himself with that one. He couldn't help but admire her ingenuity with that Crossbow of hers. She could prove problematic if any big-time mercenary work pops up, with all that old-school magic of hers. Cheating? Yes, but only if you got caught. Then there was that Sheep herder at one of the tables. Best ignore that one, he thought. He'd been sneaking about 'his' land again, and he didn't seem to have a good sense of humour. The sort of person who'd go nuts if you so much as mentioned the idea of controlling animal population. Which was a shame, given the enormous Wolf he'd spotted in the area. That was going to prove quite the prize, when he had some free time. What was particularly irritating at this time in the morning, though, was the sheer business of the place. The Zizz usually sat in one of the comfy seats off in the corner somewhere, but it seemed like that area was flooded with young fools getting drunk at nine A.M., or whatever time it was. Morons! They'd probably end up dead before the day was done, he thought as he chuckled to himself slightly, though not forgetting his irritation. As a result of these morons, however, the Zizz was forced to manuever his way past quite a few patrons (not an easy task thanks to his height and tail swaying about) and clamber up on top a lone stool at the bar, somewhere he rarely ever sat. There was a good reason for this, which made itself apparent pretty soon. Ignoring the great wall that was the Ogre to his left, he rummaged about in one of his belt pockets to retrieve his prized Pipe, made of dark wood as per usual Zizz preference. Removing the little cap to stop all the pre-packed 'medicinal' herbs from falling out, he removed a match from the same pocket and attempted to strike it against the bar. No luck. He tried it again, and again, and about six more 'agains' before he could finally squeeze a little flame off it, grumbling to himself the entire time. That was another weird thing about the tavern; it always took more effort to light matches. Some sort of newfangled suppression field, perhaps, which might also explain the sheer lack of the usual bar fights he'd seen in... just about every other tavern he'd been to. Except the ones in Tarzblik, obviously. For entirely different reasons. Finally, he stuck his Pipe in his toothy mouth and lit it with the match, waving it about afterwards to turn the fire into a little smoke puff. Of course, that was nothing compared to what happened afterwards as the Zizz began to actually smoke said Pipe, releasing much bigger puffs of smoke which spread across the bar. Of course the Zizz didn't particularly care for any inconvenience this may cause, since the calming herbal sensation had him captivated. It was enough to make him grin again, in that classic terrifying fashion Zizz were known for.</s>	<\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was slightly disappointed that Kat hadn't taken the mug he had offered, but she did already have one. He then heard the orge's response and even though he kept a straight face Azzrix had a vein bulging on his head. How dare this creature make his offer of help a game, if he wasn't of noble birth then he would have taken this beast's head. Even though his mind was thinking violent thoughts Azzrix still smiled at the inferior creature before him. "You're a funny one ogre, what is your name, you do have a name right?" he asked with a smile still imagining throwing a knife at him. He took sips of his mead and felt his anger calm down for a bit. He was waiting to see what kind of mission he could take to earn some money and also see if there would be a chance for him to steal from a challenging wealthy person, maybe he would also get an assassination mission. God only knows when he would get a chance to practice his assassin skills on a mission and he wondered how well the others would do on such missions. Azzrix was more interested in working with magic users, muscle was good, but he had plenty of that and anymore stealthy people would mean that he would lose the franchise, he had enough stealth. Magic on other hand he had none of and so getting a good magic user to work with him would open up a whole world of possibility and fencing magical artifacts would get him a really great amount of gold, he's heard stories about some magic guilds being loaded thanks some of them being able to make gold with their magic. Azzrix especially would love to get his hands on the alchemy formula to create gold if it existed, an infinite amount of gold would be very useful for expanding his family's influence and ambitions of his own.</s>
<\|description\|>Azzrix Grimmor Race: Ratman Gender: male Age: 20 Occupation: gentleman Thief, noble, he is also intraining to become an assassin Personality/Interests: at first glance Azzrix seems laid back and not really caring, but that is not the case. He is a firm believer in the term blood is thicker than water, to him his family and their honor is most important to him. This a trait that most of his family. In terms of alignment Azzrix is lawful neutral. He is a devout follower in his family's codes of thievery and assassination. Honor his very important to him and unless he is doing an assassination Azzrix will almost never stab someone in the back both literally and figuratively. Azzrix has no qualms with killing to make his reputation as an assassin known throughout the land. Vengeance is another trait of his personality and he will not think twice before getting revenge on those who have greatly offended. He can be good fun when he is not on mission and is willing to have a nice drink and talk with anyone who isn't an enemy. Despite his deceptive nature, Azzrix is very loyal to his friends and allies, he will never betray a friend or ally unless they have betrayed him. Azzrix also has a superiority complex and thinks of himself as being the greatest thief in the world and superior to people outside of his family. Even though he thinks extremely highly of his skills, he will still be willing to learn new skills and techniques in thievery. He is extremely persuasive and deceptive, which has helped him become a gentlemen thief. Azzrix believes that deceiving and talking right is just as an important aspect of thievery as sneakiness is. If you insult his family then he he will kill you or maim you badly for your dishonorable words. Mentally he is very smart and extremely cunning. Azzrix is not someone you want to get into a battle of wits with and he will try to always think up another plan if the last one fails thanks to great skill in multitasking. His family code states that that he cannot steal from or assassinate the poor. His family believe that a proper challenge offers more fame and fortune, and Azzrix follows this code to the letter. Appearance: He looks like an anthropomorphic rat and is very well groomed and carries himself like a noble. Details Body build: he very well built, he is short but he has the muscles to go toe to toe with bigger opponents. His legs are of the right proportion to give him great agility evasiveness Hair: fur Hair color: blueish gray Skin color: bluish gray Eye/Iris color: blue Height/Weight: five feet and five inches tall Notable Features: he has a crescent moon mark on his cheek. Clothing Description: he is from a noble family so his clothes are very well made and he could blend in perfectly as a socialite. Equipment Weapon(s) Rapier Parrying Dagger hand crossbow Throwing Knives Powers: he can communicate with and command rats. Abilities: Ratmen are excellent climbers and have incredible senses especially sight and smell and are able to see in the dark. They also are extremely agile and can barely make a sound while running. Ratmen are very hardy and stout and can take hits and keep going thanks to their tougher bone structures. And they are by no means weak, they can hold their own in a fight of strnegth. Talents: Azzrix has been trained in the art of thievery since he was a very young child and as a teenager he began his assassin training, all of these have given him great skills in these fields. He is an incredibly fast climber and a great jumper, he once was able to clear a fifteen foot span from one roof top to another. Azzrix is an excellent swordsman and knife thrower, having trained in fancing and knife throwing since he was eight years old. He has also trained with light crossbows and is a very good marksmen. He is also an incredible unarmed combatant and thanks to his amazing agility Azzrix is amazingly evasiveness and can dodge extremely well. Azzrix is a great linguist and is excellent at learning and mastering languages. Magic: he has no magic impressions</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren The music playing was magic, Mysaren could tell that much. At least, it made her feel irrationally... angry. Courageous. She wanted to fight and argue against almost everyone near her. She swallowed her anger and clenched her fists, gritting her teeth impatiently. She wanted to bash in the head of that idiot that was playing the music that made her feel weird, she wanted to fight the orc that was standing across the room, she wanted to use her sword on the useless rat beside her that was blowing smoke all over the place. She had the courage to do it now, but didn't, she resisted her urges. Who let this moron play music like this in a tavern? Mysaren let a grin tug at the side of her mouth as she listened to Historia, shaking her head slightly. "Sorry for uhm, the advice, Historia," She said, letting her dark blue eyes scan over Historia again. She wished she could be like that, naive and carefree. "It's just that, well, where I come from, telling people hopes and dreams is kinda a death wish. I didn't mean to offend you, of course." She still didn't feel comfortable telling anyone where she was from, but her accent probably clued them in that she wasn't from around these parts. "Not much. I would like to know where maybe I could sell a few family heirlooms. " She said. Mysaren was also well aware of how a good lie worked. One, you never added too much detail unless questioned. Too many details, and you look suspicious, it seems to well thought out. Two, you practice, like Mysaren had been for most of her life. She had been to too many cities, met too many people in skeevy taverns and bars to not know how to lie. She didn't like lying anymore, though, but this was a necessary evil, at least to her. She needed money, and no one would want some piss poor necromancer freak to work for them.</s> <\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era Saha had finished shedding her skin. Dry, delicate, paper-thin pieces of what used to be parts of her lay in a neat pile on the floor: a whole translucent mould of an arm, or an ear, or a toe, was stacked with short and long strips that had fallen off on their own or had been scrapped off with the help of a smooth pebble. She had been cooped up in the small room, cheaply that the wanderer could afford in Blue Tavern, for almost a week. Her body had conserved its energy by lulling her to sleep for days and nights, only to wake when her skin itched, without food or drink; now, recuperated and with vision restored, Saha could feel her mouth parched and cracked lips, her stomach grumbled, although, with a look down and feel of her body, she had hardly lost weight. She folded up the pile in a piece of cloth to be burned in the forest and put on her light armour. The leather felt a little tight and uncomfortable on her soft skin and etched in more when she moved, but she ignored it knowing her body would toughen up in a few days to its usual self. The bedroom tidied, Saha opened the door and stepped out of its enchantment that had been affording her peace and silence and, being sensitive, was struck by the overwhelming odours and aggressive music that had stalked upstairs. Her breathing quickened. There was pipe smoke, rare meat that excited her, strong magic, a multitude of folks from different places, animals, blood and ale - worst of all, she felt stirred to whip out her sword and dance as if she was in a fierce fight. Saha relaxed her grip on the hilt and muttered a spell. A breeze cleared the way and her head. She hurried downstairs, she could feel the bardic influence returning. "Bernard!" she called out with nary a glance at the numerous patrons on her way to the front door. "Six for me please! Rare! Put it on my tab, I'll be back in a bit." The door shut behind her; the guitar was muffled to a quieter sound that let her fully regain control of her senses and Saha found herself interjected into company. "Good morning, Kat and Hel," she greeted, and to the stranger, held her left palm to her chest in accordance to polite Naga custom. "Sorry I had to stay away for a while, I had a private matter that needed my attention." Saha looked at Hel in the eye, as if addressing him, too, as an equal, and continued saying to them both, "I'll be having breakfast soon, with enough to share, perhaps you'd like to join me." Saha excused herself from the trio and walked down the beaten path. The sunlight warmed her skin, a delicious sensation she had missed, and she focused on the fresh air that brought scents of morning dew, grass and dirt from the surrounding forest. It was a short stroll into the woods, the damp ground, brown and green with leaves, under the protection of the tall trees, held an intimacy that felt like home. She found a good spot by a fallen log and stilled with her mouth open to breathe in and sense if there was anyone nearby; then she gathered some twigs and cast a spell to start a fire. The Naga untied the pouch she had been carrying in one hand and carefully laid it on top of the flames. It consumed the gift in whole. "Saha'le arimay aksatelaikum," she gave thanks in her native tongue, for the experiences life had bestowed upon her, for the joys, pains and regrets, for another beginning now was she wiser; then Saha covered the fire with dirt to complete the ritual.</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Bernard] Bernard watched the interaction between the ratman and the ogre, remaining patient. When the ratman was eager to announce himself as the boss, he saw the gears turning slowly in Drubbin's head, turning a big red eye at him. Drubbin's chose, to what seemed like the best choice to Bernard, to stay his krumpin' hand and laugh at Azzrix's joke. Drubbin's, wanting to know more, asked Bernard about his job, indicating to the board. Bernard, wishing to remain quiet, nodded in response. He thus turned his attention to someone else, going back to his duties. "Bernard, you son of a bitch, how about a couple of beers! Viggo cried cheerfully, garnering the attention of the barkeep. Bernard grabbed a pail full of beer bottles, handing them to the bard. When the musician returned to his station, Bernard waited and when he did, the bard began to play a song that was, at first, generous and pleasing to the ear; until he worked the strings of his instrument with power and liveliness. Though it was amazing, the barkeep glared, sensing the magic. His stern look was locked onto the musician, tangible and overpowering. It was the kind of look that screamed experience and danger to those receiving it, and it held a gravity of its own. However, his glare swiftly died, the hard look becoming empty once more, as though staring into a far off distance... or at everything that was before him, memorizing it like a scholar lost in the most intriguing study. It was Naida's intervention that had made him stop glaring, to return to his vigilant nature. The naga was quick in exiting her room, making a quick order of six bloody steaks. He nodded to the woman as she fled the tavern, already ringing his bell to gather the chef. [Sessamaru] Sessamaru listened to the din with a sense of content as Naida fled for a short moment, enjoying the social atmosphere. Nothing bad ever truly happened here, and it was a good thing. If only the world could work as it did at the Tavern. No one wanting to kill each other, everyone who hated each other let the other exist simply because they didn't have the mind to hurt them, and those who enjoyed each other simply remained where they were, talking up a storm that made even the Gales envious. Sessamaru watched the events transpiring in the tavern, and laughed. He overheard, by complete accident, the conversation with the ogre and the ratman, chuckling at the exchange. Azzrix, he knew, would try anything to swindle someone, and Drubbins was clever enough to escape the ratman's verbal trap. When the music began once more, Sessamaru felt magic bubbling up from beneath the notes. When the introduction ended and the riffs began coming in full force, the swordmage waved a hand and severed the air before him into a vacuum, silencing the spell. Though it didn't work for the entire tavern, it proved quite taxing to prevent the spell's mood alteration on himself, due to the immense suppression of the Tavern. It's like trying to lift five ton weights, he mentally groaned, falling to his bum due to a faint sensation. Naida was already yelling at Viggo for his use of magic. Sessamaru simply laughed, rubbing the back of his head. No matter how powerful an enemy there is, none of them is as scary as Miss Naida! he thought, his smile growing into a wide, toothy grin. It didn't take long for Naida to return from her duties, and as she curiously stared out the window, Sess rose from the ground weakly to see what was going on. "Who's that?" Naida asked, pointing to the knightly gentleman. The half-breed shrugged and kept his smile. "A new friend," he told her, and the swordmage began to make his way to the door, grabbing Naida by the wrist. "Mister Bernard! I'm going to borrow Naida for a second, if that's alright!" Sess cried over the din, waving his free hand to Bernard as he wandered towards the door, with Naida in tow. When he arrived at the door, staring at Kat and the knight, Sess bowed before the man as was custom for Dearmadta. "Welcome to the Blue Moon Tavern! I'm Sessamaru, the local swordmage and a wanderer. A pleasure to meet you!" The half-breed greeted, rising from his bow. "And this is Miss Naida, a bartender and waitress here at the Blue Moon."</s>	<\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor The ogre's broken language made it hard for Azzrix to understand, but he still managed thanks to great linguistic skills and he found the being to be intellectually boring. Azzrix gave a smile when Kat refered to him as 'my lord' it made him feel so powerful. "Have joyous day my lady" he said with a polite bow. He ordered himself another mug of mead and began to drink in the hopes feeling more joyous at the success of his thieving business. He heard the music that bard was playing and didn't find it too appealing, he would have preferred something more romantic and epic, and Azzrix was also getting a strange feeling from hearing the music, but he was still in good mood and walked over to the musician's pail and dropped in at least ten gold coins. Eventually Drubbin's broken English began to make more sense and Azzzrix was becoming tipsy. He noticed more people entering the bar and raised his mug to give an announcement. "Everyone! It is with great pleasure that I am sharing this celebration with you and hope that bright futures for all of us are to come! Now let us drink until either dream god conquers us or the death god takes us away!" he shouted and took another gulp of his mead and almost immediately afterwards he stumbled into a table knocking over a plate. He was able to right himself before he fell on the floor, but he had to use a chair as a brace to keep himself from falling over.</s>
<\|description\|>Azzrix Grimmor Race: Ratman Gender: male Age: 20 Occupation: gentleman Thief, noble, he is also intraining to become an assassin Personality/Interests: at first glance Azzrix seems laid back and not really caring, but that is not the case. He is a firm believer in the term blood is thicker than water, to him his family and their honor is most important to him. This a trait that most of his family. In terms of alignment Azzrix is lawful neutral. He is a devout follower in his family's codes of thievery and assassination. Honor his very important to him and unless he is doing an assassination Azzrix will almost never stab someone in the back both literally and figuratively. Azzrix has no qualms with killing to make his reputation as an assassin known throughout the land. Vengeance is another trait of his personality and he will not think twice before getting revenge on those who have greatly offended. He can be good fun when he is not on mission and is willing to have a nice drink and talk with anyone who isn't an enemy. Despite his deceptive nature, Azzrix is very loyal to his friends and allies, he will never betray a friend or ally unless they have betrayed him. Azzrix also has a superiority complex and thinks of himself as being the greatest thief in the world and superior to people outside of his family. Even though he thinks extremely highly of his skills, he will still be willing to learn new skills and techniques in thievery. He is extremely persuasive and deceptive, which has helped him become a gentlemen thief. Azzrix believes that deceiving and talking right is just as an important aspect of thievery as sneakiness is. If you insult his family then he he will kill you or maim you badly for your dishonorable words. Mentally he is very smart and extremely cunning. Azzrix is not someone you want to get into a battle of wits with and he will try to always think up another plan if the last one fails thanks to great skill in multitasking. His family code states that that he cannot steal from or assassinate the poor. His family believe that a proper challenge offers more fame and fortune, and Azzrix follows this code to the letter. Appearance: He looks like an anthropomorphic rat and is very well groomed and carries himself like a noble. Details Body build: he very well built, he is short but he has the muscles to go toe to toe with bigger opponents. His legs are of the right proportion to give him great agility evasiveness Hair: fur Hair color: blueish gray Skin color: bluish gray Eye/Iris color: blue Height/Weight: five feet and five inches tall Notable Features: he has a crescent moon mark on his cheek. Clothing Description: he is from a noble family so his clothes are very well made and he could blend in perfectly as a socialite. Equipment Weapon(s) Rapier Parrying Dagger hand crossbow Throwing Knives Powers: he can communicate with and command rats. Abilities: Ratmen are excellent climbers and have incredible senses especially sight and smell and are able to see in the dark. They also are extremely agile and can barely make a sound while running. Ratmen are very hardy and stout and can take hits and keep going thanks to their tougher bone structures. And they are by no means weak, they can hold their own in a fight of strnegth. Talents: Azzrix has been trained in the art of thievery since he was a very young child and as a teenager he began his assassin training, all of these have given him great skills in these fields. He is an incredibly fast climber and a great jumper, he once was able to clear a fifteen foot span from one roof top to another. Azzrix is an excellent swordsman and knife thrower, having trained in fancing and knife throwing since he was eight years old. He has also trained with light crossbows and is a very good marksmen. He is also an incredible unarmed combatant and thanks to his amazing agility Azzrix is amazingly evasiveness and can dodge extremely well. Azzrix is a great linguist and is excellent at learning and mastering languages. Magic: he has no magic impressions</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat didn't react when the dagger shot out of the wall, embedding itself in the floor next to her foot. It wasn't exactly the first time she'd used the wall for target practice. (It'd happened enough times that even Hel didn't jump to attention anymore.) Ignoring the glare Bernard sent her way, she pocketed the coin she was fiddling with and pushed herself up. After scooping up her dagger, Kat walked to the board, Hel following behind her. A job was probably what she needed to work off these nerves. "Ok, whaddya got this time?" she asked the priest in a bored voice.</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Priest] The young member of the church turned to Kat and smiled politely. "Oh, just a few lost-and-found missions. Nothing too big. The Remnants haven't been stirring up trouble lately," he explained, frowning as he began to think about it. "It's strange... you would think a village or two would have vanished over night. But our intel has been giving us reports of them just... hiding." Priest went on, thinking. "Nevertheless, I have been hearing strange rumors about an army rising in the South. I'm advising the High Cardinal to take a deeper look into it. Never before have I heard such a rumor being spoke with much accuracy and tenacity. So, keep a look out; in the mean time, when I finish here, come back and take a look at the board and see if there are any missions you'd be interested in doing." With that, Priest went about his duty and continued pinning up each job.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Viggo's left eye twitches in anger as he listened to the witch insulted his ability, taking a chip off of his monolithic ego. "The music comes from the guitar, you.. You slag!" he curses, still quietly plucking notes on the guitar, as though it's a coping mechanism of some sort. He takes a breath and relaxes in his posture, letting half of his face be curtained by his long brass hair, his expression transforms into more of a sneer as he releases some of his anger into his guitar strings. "Whatever" he shrugs, turning around and walking off with slow steps, "I don't need the opinions of women who're just jealous of magicians greater than themselves.." he jeers, passing by Bernard who smacks him on the crown on the head. Viggo rubs his head and glares at Bernard, deciding not to form a grudge given the power the barkeep seemingly possessed.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern "No, you know the rules, Margaret," Naida says as she grabs Sess's plate and immediately dishes him up some more stew. Then she notices the large ogre at her table and cringes. "But I'll let you use my employee discount just this once." She sets the bowl back down in front of Sess and heads back to the kitchen to make the pancakes herself. She quickly dishes up at least ten servings of pancakes and writes down the amount on Margaret's tab before swinging over to her table. She dishes out the load of pancakes before going back over to the bar to clean up slightly while business was low. She smiles at the Priest as he walks downstairs and starts pinning up some jobs on the job board. "Hey, Priest!" Naida says happily, giving him a toothy grin. "I might have put my own job up there. Sorry, I just thought it would be fun for some of the patrons in the tavern." She smiles at him and looks back over at Sessamaru. "Are you going to take one of those jobs?" she asks him. "I have exactly seen you leave the tavern in forever and I think some fresh air will do you good." She smiles at him and begins to wipe down the bar with a wet towel. She hovers a couple feet off the ground and looks at Sess expectantly.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Wats a pancake? Oh, bye." Drubbins says quickly as Viggo walks away before looking back at Margret. "Was he really castin' a spell on ya'? Dats bad, dats real bad. I kno' nuffin' 'bout magic, but a bloke doin' magic at ya' all secret like is always bad. Been done ta me a few times, blokes puttin' needles in me thinkin' bits. Used to not mind so much, 'cept now I'm tryin' ta use em more so anyone tryin' that again's gonna be gettin' a good krumpin'." It was around this time that Nadia rounds the table to make her delivery. The smell was nearly overwhelming as it lit up the insides of his nostrils. It was just as heavenly as he remembered, but he held back on digging in on account of them not being his. The blokes at the tables, though, hadn't complained when she'd brought them over. Did they not understand what these were, or were they just being polite to the blue bloke? They weren't eating. He decided to breach the subject. "Uhhhhh," he started, not really experienced with pointing out other peoples mistakes. He pointed down at the golden brown goodness piled on their table. "Dat bloke got it wrong." He said tentatively. "Them is flapjacks. Ya can tell 'cause, see, dere flat an stuff." He waited for a moment for this information to sink in properly, then decided to be bold. "Can I 'ave 'em?"</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire, about to accept the offer for a tour (and respond to Historia's comment), watched as new players entered the scene. Bringing with them a whirlwind of commotion. Arguing, tension, threats all being thrown around. Claire was tempted to try and stop things before they started, but she wouldn't know what to do. She wasn't the best speaker and getting physical would only aggravate the situation. Though before she could choose something to do, Historia herself took action instead. Claire watched her go and stand between both raging parties, but was drawn away for a moment by a loud thump. The white haired man who had pulsed magic earlier was being accosted by an old man."Amazing..." Claire said under her breath. She looked back just in time to see her brown haired acquaintance talking down the large knight, and one armed hunter. She quickly returned and apologized for her absence. After Mysaren gave her response, Claire too took the chance. "No need to apologize." The small swords-woman added with the faintest of smiles. "I too would appreciate a tour." She added, her attention once again wandering. A man had entered, this time bringing with him a sense of positive energy. He went about placing papers up on a board, Claire noted the word 'job.' Perhaps there was a chance of her making some gold nearby...She still needed a concrete place to stay after all. On the topic of money and business, the rat-like creature who had paid for all their meals and drink approached the trio. Claire gave a small bow in response ot his. He seemed...Decent. "Thank you for the meal." Claire replied to him after he was done speaking. She was truly glad he had done that, paid for everything. She was low on survival funds.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Thank y'kindly." The Lizard returned the courtesy to the Sprite. But once that was over with, he wasted no time in grabbing the glass given and downing the entire thing in one go; it wasn't exactly unusual for him to drink his fruit juice in such a way. Only problem was, after he drunk it, he felt an almost electrical jolt of energy course through his entire body, making him shiver and widen his eyes. If he had hairs, they'd all be standing on end. This wasn't a bad thing, however, because to comprehend what he saw next, he'd need to be awake as possible. A boy... girl... thing in a white overcoat typically worn by human religious missionaries burst into the bar and started talking all rainbows and cupcakes. S/he did this all the way up to, and on the other side of, the bar, a little too close for comfort. Rimau looked on with even wider eyes and a blank expression of bewilderment. Then he said to the wo/man: "Huh... ain't seen you 'round 'ere before, kid." What especially confused him here was that no-one else seemed to react the same way he did. Maybe s/he was a regular, but he wouldn't know, since he only discovered the ostensibly legendary bar less than a week ago. Could just be another sign of its apparent weirdness. "...What's yer deal?" He continued, licking the inside of his mouth to get the most out of his juice. "...Y'part o' the Church o' Happy-ology or somethin'? Y'act like that on a day-to-day basis, there's good odds some'un'll turn yer face into a modern art masterpiece, let alone 'convert'!" He propelled up and slightly over the bar to add weight to that last part, but he couldn't hide the little grin on his face. He sat back down to let the remark sink in for a bit, before waiting for the best opportunity to start laughing, allowing his little grin to pop open. "...Baahhh, I'm just messin' with ya! ...B'seriously, though..." He added, changing his expression to a solemn and serious one almost cartoonishly quickly; something that took a bit of practice, it seemed. "...That cheerful stuff creeps folks out, kid. Makes people think y'tryin' to... do somethin'. Like, y'got an agenda. No-one is 'at 'appy normally 'cept a slimy lil' hatchlin' fresh from the shell. Makes it cute in kind of er... never mind, it's a Zizz thing." What proved interesting now, though, was the bits of paper s/he was pinning to the wall. He once again tried to stretch his upper body over the bar to get a closer look, his view obscured by the mass of people milling about like... a mass of people.</s>	<\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix gave a bigger smile when Mysaren and Claire thanked him for the drinks and asked him what business that he had in mind. "I am looking for people to go on missions with and I am pretty sure that some will come up soon. I am perfectly fine with doing them myself, but I find having a group to aid you is much better for health than doing them alone. So if any of you are interested in going on a mission then I am perfectly fine with you coming along with me. There would be riches to be had and the promise of glory." he said to them calmly. He was hoping to find allies to make doing the tougher missions easier, his family may have liked a challenge, but they weren't stupid. "Remember Azzrix, if you can have assistance in job with a person you can trust then always have it." Azzrix remembered his dad telling him that when he was a young child learning how to be an expert thief.</s>
<\|description\|>Azzrix Grimmor Race: Ratman Gender: male Age: 20 Occupation: gentleman Thief, noble, he is also intraining to become an assassin Personality/Interests: at first glance Azzrix seems laid back and not really caring, but that is not the case. He is a firm believer in the term blood is thicker than water, to him his family and their honor is most important to him. This a trait that most of his family. In terms of alignment Azzrix is lawful neutral. He is a devout follower in his family's codes of thievery and assassination. Honor his very important to him and unless he is doing an assassination Azzrix will almost never stab someone in the back both literally and figuratively. Azzrix has no qualms with killing to make his reputation as an assassin known throughout the land. Vengeance is another trait of his personality and he will not think twice before getting revenge on those who have greatly offended. He can be good fun when he is not on mission and is willing to have a nice drink and talk with anyone who isn't an enemy. Despite his deceptive nature, Azzrix is very loyal to his friends and allies, he will never betray a friend or ally unless they have betrayed him. Azzrix also has a superiority complex and thinks of himself as being the greatest thief in the world and superior to people outside of his family. Even though he thinks extremely highly of his skills, he will still be willing to learn new skills and techniques in thievery. He is extremely persuasive and deceptive, which has helped him become a gentlemen thief. Azzrix believes that deceiving and talking right is just as an important aspect of thievery as sneakiness is. If you insult his family then he he will kill you or maim you badly for your dishonorable words. Mentally he is very smart and extremely cunning. Azzrix is not someone you want to get into a battle of wits with and he will try to always think up another plan if the last one fails thanks to great skill in multitasking. His family code states that that he cannot steal from or assassinate the poor. His family believe that a proper challenge offers more fame and fortune, and Azzrix follows this code to the letter. Appearance: He looks like an anthropomorphic rat and is very well groomed and carries himself like a noble. Details Body build: he very well built, he is short but he has the muscles to go toe to toe with bigger opponents. His legs are of the right proportion to give him great agility evasiveness Hair: fur Hair color: blueish gray Skin color: bluish gray Eye/Iris color: blue Height/Weight: five feet and five inches tall Notable Features: he has a crescent moon mark on his cheek. Clothing Description: he is from a noble family so his clothes are very well made and he could blend in perfectly as a socialite. Equipment Weapon(s) Rapier Parrying Dagger hand crossbow Throwing Knives Powers: he can communicate with and command rats. Abilities: Ratmen are excellent climbers and have incredible senses especially sight and smell and are able to see in the dark. They also are extremely agile and can barely make a sound while running. Ratmen are very hardy and stout and can take hits and keep going thanks to their tougher bone structures. And they are by no means weak, they can hold their own in a fight of strnegth. Talents: Azzrix has been trained in the art of thievery since he was a very young child and as a teenager he began his assassin training, all of these have given him great skills in these fields. He is an incredibly fast climber and a great jumper, he once was able to clear a fifteen foot span from one roof top to another. Azzrix is an excellent swordsman and knife thrower, having trained in fancing and knife throwing since he was eight years old. He has also trained with light crossbows and is a very good marksmen. He is also an incredible unarmed combatant and thanks to his amazing agility Azzrix is amazingly evasiveness and can dodge extremely well. Azzrix is a great linguist and is excellent at learning and mastering languages. Magic: he has no magic impressions</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon NaidaBlue Moon Tavern Naida rolls her eyes as Sess asks for another bowl. She quickly dishes him some more, this time adding a little fairy dust to it so it will quell his hunger for at least a good hour, and says, "Alright, great! You and I can do a job together. I get to choose." She sets the bowl down in front of him, sticking her tongue out at him in a childish way as she does, and flits over to the job board, hovering above most of the people's heads. She notices one that looks very interesting and pulls it down off the board. Taken She reads the description quickly and flits back over to Sess, showing him the job. "How's this one? I think I know the daughter; I've seen her in here with her parents more than once." She then notices that it says that the island is on the river nearby. She smiles, delighted. It has been a long time since she has been in her mermaid form and she fears that she would die of withdrawal if she were to go any longer. "If we do this job, we need to stop by my house before we head out," she tells Sess. "Ileft my bow and arrows back there, along with a few of my knives. I hope that's alright." Her eyes scan over the paper again, curious on how much the reward is. It doesn't say, but from what she has seen from the parents, they are quite rich. She looks over at Bernard and says, "Hey, Bernard! I might be leaving a little early today." She grins at him and holds up the paper. "Gotta job to do."</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Sess swiftly continues to eat the stew, slowing down when he noticed a strange new flavor, almost like an exotic spice. The swordsman looked at the bowl, then to Naida. With a sigh and a shrug, he finished the new dish and wandered away into the kitchen. There was a commotion, a lot of yelling from the chef, and the kitchen door explodes open with Sessamaru running out of it, holding a giant pot full of the stew. "Miss Naida! Let's go!" He cried, fearing for his life whilst being chased by the chef and the other cooks. The cooks and chef began to throw objects at the fleeing Sess, who chugged the pot down while running, each object miraculously missing him. Dropping the now empty pot, the swordsman reached the door and left the tavern, leaving Naida to her own devices.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen looked hard at the priest. He shifted his gaze to the wall behind him. There were several papers attached to it. "Okay thank you," he replied curtly to the man. Other people seemed to be trying to talk to the priest so Rouen maneuvered around them to look at the board. He searched the wall with a finger for anything mentioning a cave. "A help board? Well that is a new idea," he thought looking at the variety of requests. Many of the requests seemed juvenile, like petty thievery or missing pets. They were jobs meant for squires and the local guard force. Things that were of no interest to Rouen at all. He found what the priest was talking about."A cave eh? Well hopefully I get the luck of the draw this time around," he thought. "I wouldn't be surprised if what this priest thinks a remnant is turned out to be another overgrown solitary fay creature." Rouen had searched many caves, abandoned houses, and valleys in the past nine months of travelling. Most of them were just that. Caves, abandoned houses, and valleys. Occasionally he would run into some fay creature like an ogre or harpy. Even then the majority of them were fairly harmless. None had actual Remnants. He sighed, "Well this is the only information I have so far, maybe it will actually lead me somewhere."However, as he turned around a smile grew on his face. "Back to the field," he thought happily thinking of this next part of his journey. The field was a term he used for where the action occurs. It was where battles took place, quests were completed, and history happens. Rouen didn't care if this cave turned out to be just some abandoned spookhole. He was a knight. The field, whether it be some cave, castle, forest, or a plain landscape was his duty. It was where he found his purpose. He walked toward the bar where there was an empty bowl of soup and half a mug of ale. Shuffling through his pouch he put down two silver coins. Looking at the big man who looked like the bartender Rouen said, "This should cover the stew," he said. He then put another silver coin down, "And this is for the lady. Please pass on my compliments." He turned and it looked like people in the bar seemed to be crowding over the message board. "So many people willing to help each other. This may be a fay tavern but the community seems to be healthy. It must be the human aspect," he thought. His eyes shifted to some of the more conspicuous folks. There was a woman wearing a robe made of a swirl of vibrant colors. "She must be important, I've only seen diplomats and high nobility wear such expensive gowns," he thought and couldn't help but admire her figure. He next looked at the one-armed village girl and glared. "Bah, someone will teach her manners one day. I shouldn't overreact like that again, it is beneath my station," he thought. Smile on his face, Rouen turned towards the tavern door and began to walk onto the road.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen After his little spat with the witch, Viggo swung by the bar, sitting down on a stool nearby his iced bucket of beer bottles. He uncorked one with his teeth and quickly consumed its contents, resting his idle hand flat on his guitars strings. Once sated, the guitarist stood again, wiping his lips with this thumb, and cast his gaze in the direction of Rouen who had been looking over the various contracts pinned to the large message board. With a huff, Viggo pushed himself off his seat and made his way over to the board to see if he could find something to do. Viggo poured over the messages, rolling his eyes at more than one. "Boo hoo, you lost a dog.. Buy a new one.." he uttered quietly while hunched forward to pour over the rest of the notices. At last, his eyes fixated on one that seemed worthy of his talents. After noting the details to memory, Viggo moved towards the bar, whistling to get Bernard's attention. "Hey, Bernie, what's the deal with this daughter situation. The island quest, with the uh, disgusting tribespeople" he would question, leaning forward onto the bar, having swung his guitar behind his back once more.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon NaidaBlue Moon Tavern Naida stares after Sess as he runs out the door, mouth agape, before slamming her palm into her forehead and dragging it down her face with an exasperated sigh. "You've got to be kidding," she murmurs to herself. She quickly helps the cooks and chefs pick up their things, apologizing profusely for her friend's behavior before grabbing the job and flying toward the door. She sees Sessamaru walking farther up and she sighs. She probably isn't going to be able to get him to go toward her house. She begins to fly slightly above the ground before she flies over to her house rapidly. Not bothering to go in through the door, she flies in through the window she always keeps open. She quickly grabs her quiver of arrows and her wooden bow that she got from her mother's former friends. She stares at the bow for a brief moment, tears beginning to form at the edge of her eyes. She quickly wipes them away and pulls the quiver and bow over her shoulders. She then walks over to her closet and pulls out a few knives, shoving them in her boots. She then grabs her dark blue head back and pushes her hair back out of her face. She is about to fly back out the window when she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She notices the scar on her stomach, slightly exposed under her mid-length cropped t-shirt. She sighs, running her hand along it for a moment before she flits back out then window in a dash of fairy dust and glitter. She flies above the road for a brief moment before she sees Sess still walking down the road. She flies down and lands next to him, still gripping the job in her hand. She shakes herself a little bit and smiles at him. "So, you ready?"</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske In response to Priest's concerns, Tahira expressed her agreement with a polite nod. While she appeared distant and mysterious to some, it were those very qualities which would point the astute observer to one of her defining traits, caution. If the priest thought the mission was too difficult to perform alone, she would seek out at least one partner to join her on the job, despite their potential to get in the way of her own scholarly interests in the gem. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long to find a prospective partner. As Rouen walked away from the board, and others came and went, Kat stepped up and pulled down the Arcane Collective's flyer. Glancing at her leopard, she said "Wanna kill some Drakas?" Although the question had not been directed at her, Tahira stepped closer and provided her own answer. "If you seek another partner to accompany you, I am quite interested in this quest," while speaking, she turned her eyes from Kat to Hel and back, as if addressing them both. She had not had much interaction with these two, as they did not stray near the library in which she spent most of her time, but they had proven themselves capable trackers from what she had heard.</s>	<\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix heard their responses and was slightly disappointed that Mysaren wasn't interested in going on missions with him yet, but he decided that he would have to wait for some other time. Azzrix excused himself to go look at the mission board and then he overheard Naida talking about a mission to find the daughter of a patron to the tavern who had gone missing. Azzrix also heard her mention the possibility of the patron being rich and he became even more interested. He then noticed a commotion going on in the kitchen and saw the weird dog like man run out with a pot of stew with the cooks screaming at him as he fled. Azzrix shook his head at the foolishness of the man, he would make a terrible thief if that's what he thought was worth stealing. Azzrix was interested in the mission so he followed them to wherever they were headed. He decided to follow Naida and soon saw that she was headed back to her home. Azzrix thought that it would be best to quickly go get his things. He quickly headed back to the place where he was staying to get his things and change his clothes. Once in his room he put on his darker robes and traveling cloak which were his thieving clothes when he wasn't robbing people in plain sight. Azzrix attached his rapier and Parrying Dagger to his belt and got his throwing knives and hand crossbow. Once he got the arrows for his crossbow Azzrix left his home and went look for Naida. He eventually found her waiting around and walked up to her calmly. "If you don't mind I would like to partake in this mission, a person with my kind of talents would be a great asset on a mission like this" he said to her with a polite tone to his voice.</s>
<\|description\|>Azzrix Grimmor Race: Ratman Gender: male Age: 20 Occupation: gentleman Thief, noble, he is also intraining to become an assassin Personality/Interests: at first glance Azzrix seems laid back and not really caring, but that is not the case. He is a firm believer in the term blood is thicker than water, to him his family and their honor is most important to him. This a trait that most of his family. In terms of alignment Azzrix is lawful neutral. He is a devout follower in his family's codes of thievery and assassination. Honor his very important to him and unless he is doing an assassination Azzrix will almost never stab someone in the back both literally and figuratively. Azzrix has no qualms with killing to make his reputation as an assassin known throughout the land. Vengeance is another trait of his personality and he will not think twice before getting revenge on those who have greatly offended. He can be good fun when he is not on mission and is willing to have a nice drink and talk with anyone who isn't an enemy. Despite his deceptive nature, Azzrix is very loyal to his friends and allies, he will never betray a friend or ally unless they have betrayed him. Azzrix also has a superiority complex and thinks of himself as being the greatest thief in the world and superior to people outside of his family. Even though he thinks extremely highly of his skills, he will still be willing to learn new skills and techniques in thievery. He is extremely persuasive and deceptive, which has helped him become a gentlemen thief. Azzrix believes that deceiving and talking right is just as an important aspect of thievery as sneakiness is. If you insult his family then he he will kill you or maim you badly for your dishonorable words. Mentally he is very smart and extremely cunning. Azzrix is not someone you want to get into a battle of wits with and he will try to always think up another plan if the last one fails thanks to great skill in multitasking. His family code states that that he cannot steal from or assassinate the poor. His family believe that a proper challenge offers more fame and fortune, and Azzrix follows this code to the letter. Appearance: He looks like an anthropomorphic rat and is very well groomed and carries himself like a noble. Details Body build: he very well built, he is short but he has the muscles to go toe to toe with bigger opponents. His legs are of the right proportion to give him great agility evasiveness Hair: fur Hair color: blueish gray Skin color: bluish gray Eye/Iris color: blue Height/Weight: five feet and five inches tall Notable Features: he has a crescent moon mark on his cheek. Clothing Description: he is from a noble family so his clothes are very well made and he could blend in perfectly as a socialite. Equipment Weapon(s) Rapier Parrying Dagger hand crossbow Throwing Knives Powers: he can communicate with and command rats. Abilities: Ratmen are excellent climbers and have incredible senses especially sight and smell and are able to see in the dark. They also are extremely agile and can barely make a sound while running. Ratmen are very hardy and stout and can take hits and keep going thanks to their tougher bone structures. And they are by no means weak, they can hold their own in a fight of strnegth. Talents: Azzrix has been trained in the art of thievery since he was a very young child and as a teenager he began his assassin training, all of these have given him great skills in these fields. He is an incredibly fast climber and a great jumper, he once was able to clear a fifteen foot span from one roof top to another. Azzrix is an excellent swordsman and knife thrower, having trained in fancing and knife throwing since he was eight years old. He has also trained with light crossbows and is a very good marksmen. He is also an incredible unarmed combatant and thanks to his amazing agility Azzrix is amazingly evasiveness and can dodge extremely well. Azzrix is a great linguist and is excellent at learning and mastering languages. Magic: he has no magic impressions</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nodded along slightly as Historia explained for her. She looked at the page, as if she was gaining the information from there, but she was only listening inventively. After Historia was finished explaining, Claire was about to agree to the mission, but Historia added another comment on the end. Claire's eye twitched when she registered the offer. "I..." She let her mouth hanging open a tiny bit. Searching for a word yet again. "I would like that..." She concluded, replying to both the job offer, and the future assistance. "And...thank you." She added softly. She tried again to give a smile. It was there, though quite faint. "Shall we...leave soon?" She gestured towards the door. She didn't have anything else to do, other than pick up her bag. If she was working alone she would have been on the road already, though she did tend to jump ahead when it came to acting and not thinking.</s> <\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era [timeskip; after breakfast] Several of the patrons left the Tavern in pursuit of missions the Priest had put up. Saha left her seat at the table to read the list of jobs available, at a short distance away from the gathered crowd. None interested her, and more importantly, they sounded too dangerous for her current state before she had regained full strength. The Big Guy hollered with a piece of notice that he held in a giant hand. "It said a couple lost their pet dog - a yellow mutt, goes by "Peanut", that's all - to be returned to 8 Bright Avenue, a red house in town. There's a reward, doesn't say how much or what it is." Saha appraised the Big Guy: he looked strong and intimidating, stupid as ogres were, but he seemed nice-natured enough that she could use his strength to serve as protection as well as to get the simple job done. "Do you want to do this mission with me? I think you're just the right bloke for the job," she complimented. "We better bring some food to bait the mutt," she said, from years of experience in trying to get close to animals as a Naga, and ordered a piece of steak to go from Bernard.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Dogs like me." Said Drubbins happily at the snake bloke. He had no idea what Da Boss would want a dog returned to someone, but that was normal. Da Boss asks you to punch down a building you don't ask what's inside. Da Boss wants every slime in the area gathered up and shoved behind the same door, you don't ask why. Da Boss asks you to chop off your hand and let your blood spill into the stone circle, you ask "how much blood would ya like, Boss?" He was also happy to have someone to come with him. Most Bosses didn't trust Drubbins to handle anything more complex than krumping a bloke on his own, and most of them at least sent someone to make sure he'd Krumped the right bloke. He thumped his chest, threw the rest of the pancakes directly into his mouth, and garbled "You point me at dat Peanut and dat 'ouse and I'll do da rest."</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren "Oh, I understand. Uhm, you can borrow my cloak if you want, you know. I don't mind." Even if Rimau was tough, Mysaren didn't want to have to deal with a pissy Zizz all the way up some mountains. She could live without the cloak, being pretty used to the cold. Her cloak was mostly just to disguise herself, make her blend in a bit, but it also helped with self esteem issues. She scratched her arm idly. "I'm not a huge fan of mountains either, of course, but, well, hopefully the reward makes up for it," Maybe she could actually buy some form of transportation, a horse or a cart or something with the prize money. "Besides, a bunch of idiots who decided to hide up in the mountains shouldn't take us that long to dispatch, of course. We'll be out of there in no time." She didn't exactly know that, of course, but bandits and robbers weren't generally the smartest of people, especially if they left enough evidence for them to know where they were hiding, even if it was just a vague area. Mysaren followed Rimau to the door, and frowned when she poked her head out, and turned back in. Inside the tavern looked bright and well lit, sun streaming through the windows, but outside was overcast and dreary. She coughed as she poked her head out, and looked at the mountains Rimau was pointing at. "Yes, that should be it. Hm, doesn't seem too too far away. Even then, there has to be some form of trail up there if the robbers were able to get up there so fast. Hopefully it won't be that hard to find where they're hiding."</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Outside the Blue Moon Naida does not care of Azzrix comes along, but she does care about her share of the reward. Consider that he is a thief, he might wind up cheating them out of their share. But as Sessamaru says that he can come along, she has no argument against it. She begins walking again, looking down at the job. "So it says that the daughter is being held on the island out in the river by the Blue Moon. I know what river they speak of in this job, but I do not know which island. There are three islands on the river." She furrows her brown and looks at Sessamaru. "It doesn't matter anyways if neither of you can swim fast enough to keep up with me. Would either of you like for me to scout ahead see if I can find out which of the islands this poor girl is on?" As she is speaking, she hears the rush of the river and she can't help herself. She rushes toward the sound and stands at the very edge of a cliff that overhangs the water. She stares down at the water, a little bit of fear crossing over her mind. The last time that she had set foot in the water was three years ago, which was the last time that she had seen her father. As soon as she would set foot in the water, he would know that she had come back. But when she doesn't know is if he will come searching for her. She takes a deep breath and smiles back at Sess and the new fellow. That is a risk that she will have to take. She sucks in a little more air and steps off the cliff. There is no point in flapping her wings; the best way to have fun at getting turned into her mermaid form is just to drop into it. The icy cold water splashes up around her and she shivers slightly, but the change is imminent. She feels her legs meld together into one form and her wings shoot down her spine to her legs, enveloping her legs in a bluish silvery glow. Before long, she has a long, bluish silver tail flipping around underneath her. She smiles, unable to contain her joy, and she swims as fast as she can toward the surface, which is well a top of her now. She leaps out of the water like a dolphin, giving an excited whoop as she does. She then lands back in the water and floats on top of the surface, smiling up at Sess and Azzrix. "Come on, you guys! The water is amazing!"</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Well, if we're goin' by the assumption that these dumbasses came from town..." Rimau said, choosing to politely ignore the topic of mountains any further before it became distracting. "...They prob'ly used this road right 'ere." Rimau stepped outside, into the purely natural, gritty air of the outdoors, and 'sweeped' his pointed hand along the road towards the mountains. "...I mean, sure, they mighta been the show-off type an' scaled some walls, but roads tend to be the only viable way up mountains. F'good reason." Rimau proceeded to take a few strides down the cobbled road, in the direction of the mountain gate, and turned back to Mysaren, who he assumed was still inside. "...Unless y'got any other plans, I suggest we get goin'. Uh, no pressure, though. Those dumbasses are prob'ly makin' a mess o' their britches just thinkin' about retribution right now, heheh." With that, Rimau grabbed the sides of his goggles and slid them over his eyes; the sign that he was now in 'work' mode. Which reminded him; 'must remember to take that medicine when we get there. Last thing I need is a repeat o' the last Plat'num troll hunt... geez, maybe I'm gettin' too old f'this. ...Naaaah.' He finalised that line of thought with another devilish grin.</s>	<\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was glad that the dog-like man was fine with him going with them on their mission and for once it seemed like he didn't have to use a lot of excellent persuasion skills to come along. He now thought of what was to come, if it was a kidnapping that they were dealing with then there was a good chance for combat, which made Azzrix smile a bit as he thought of getting a chance to show off his great swordsmanship. Azzrix listened to Naida explain the layout of the land and upon hearing that they would have to swim to the island he groaned. Azzrix knew how to swim, but he didn't like having to get his thief clothing wet and who knew how deep the river. He didn't voice any objection and after Naida asked she could scout ahead he watched her jump into the water and looked to be having the time of her life. Under different certumstances Azzrix would have laughed, but right now he was being very serious. "Is the water very deep and how far are the islands? I don't fancy drowning today" he replied to her, hesitant to jump into the water.</s>
<\|description\|>Drubbins Race: Ogre Gender: Male Age: 56 Occupation: As close to a professional henchmen as anyone is ever likely to get. Personality/Interests Drubbins is what would politely be called "simple." This is actually quite intelligent for an ogre as he's figured out that not krumpin' every last living thing he sees to eat there flesh and tender marrow is the best way to get ahead in the world. He's generally got no will of his own, willing to follow the orders of whomever he deems to be "Da Boss" (normally whomever is currently feeding him) no matter what those orders may be. He figures this is the best way to live because he, bein' not so smart n'all, will always make wrong decisions. This blind faith makes him steadfast, loyal, and very very gullible when it comes to his boss and anyone the boss puts in charge of him. When he's not doing something for the boss he enjoys the typical ogre activities of eatin' and drinkin', and the not so typical ogre activity of thinkin'. He's actually quite the philosopher for an ogre, and sits thinkin' and listenin' to the smart people talk in the hopes of one day becoming smart himself. Details [i]Body build: Thick. Arms and legs like tree trunks, with arms so long they drag along the ground. Fat with muscle. Hair: None. Hair color: None. He has no hair, that's trolls. Skin color: Mottled grey Eye/Iris color: Red Height/Weight: 8ft tall/Heavy Notable Features: Pronounced underbite, sharp jagged teeth visible covering his upper lip. Long, sharp, black nails on his fingers and toes. Body is covered in badly healed scars and he has a hatched head embedded in his skull. Clothing Description A large ragged kilt held on by a leather strap that goes over his shoulder. Equipment Black iron wristbands on both arms. Weapon(s) Generally the heaviest thing around he can pick up. Powers Weirdly lucky. Abilities Super strength, Super endurance, thick leathery hide that can shrug off most normal human blows. Talents Just throwing things. He's gotten really really good at throwing things over the years, he's got excellent aim. Magic None Sessamaru: Dis dog bloke, he seems like a boss, right? 'Sept he's just knockin' about like me, innie? Where's he live? Historia: Bird bloke, always doin' somefing for a boss. Like me. Saha: Don't see many snake blokes 'round here. Don't see many ogres either. Hmmm...likes drinkin'. Seems awright, for a snake bloke. Katelia: Oh wait, ders an ogre. No. 'Old on. Dat's a person. Someone krumped him good. Was it da pet? Wish I had a pet. Wanna see who's gots more scars? Dats a fun game. Julio: Tiny bird bloke. Put him behind me when dey kick in da door. Feels nice, bein' 'round him. Azzrix: Quick little git like dis take off wif half da bosses gubbins when fings go bad. I'm watching you, quick little git. Margaret: Don't trust witches no more. Dey can put needles in yer thinkin' bits. Don't put needles in my thinkin' bit witch, or I'll krump ya. Naida: Bar bloke. Make's nice music. Talks to me in my thinkin' bits. I don't like it, but I won't tell him that 'cause I like him. Mysaren: Feel comfortable 'round this bloke. Somefing about him's, ya know, where you remember somefing and it gives ya a feelin'? Slike dat. Tahira: Give em' a house and some boys and dis'ed be a proper boss ta have. Rimau: Dis is da type a boy ya want widcha when dey kick in da doors. Or just standin' 'round lookin' big. Or Lookin' for somefing. Or someone. Point is, da type a boy you want 'round. Claire: Tiny bloke. Scary bloke. Good bloke to have 'round. Viggo: Git. Makes nice music, but then krumps it with dat loud stuff. What'se for? Rouen: Have I krumped this bloke before? Maybe he was doin' the krumpin'. Not sure. Heads fuzzy. Dis is da sort of bloke that ends up kickin' in da door. Felan: I ain't never seen a dog dat big before! Noooo, stop bein' a git. Go back ta bein' a dog.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Malmsteen exits the lavatory, readjusting his belt as he looks at the newly repopulated tavern. His cruel gaze falls upon each member of the tavern in turn, judging everyone silently as he makes his way to the makeshift stage in the corner of the main floor. Grabbing a small stool as he passes, Viggo climbs onto the stage and takes his guitar off his back, saddling it across his chest. Once on stage, the pale musician sits and sheds his heavy black-leather jacket, letting it crumple to the ground behind him. Clearing his throat once, Viggo begins to tune his instrument, letting the strings twang softly as their pitch raises and lowers. After a few minutes of housekeeping, Viggo runs his calloused palm across the neck of his remarkable guitar, and begins to play. The melody is plucky and sharp, but has a certain harmony to it. The song rises and falls as Viggo's fingers climb up and down the neck of his instrument, his blond hair cascading forward and hiding his face as he continues to play the tune. The sophistication of the jaunty little ballad would inspire a foot-tap from anyone in a decent enough mood, and generally provides the otherwise quiet establishment with a pleasant and relaxing atmosphere. 'I bet none of these losers even recognise this as Zwelf's Fourth Ballad' he thinks to himself as he continues to play, 'Bah, to hell with such thoughts, I don't need their compliments or musical taste, only their coin...' he muses quietly, grinning as he continues to pluck at his fantastical guitar. After a little while, his song concludes, giving Viggo a chance to kick forward a small pail with a few shillings and silver pieces in it.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia glanced over at the door when she heard...she thought her name was Miss Katelia and the....big...cat Hel...Historia shuddered slightly. She had had enough of cats for today...So she turned her attention right back to the woman that she had sat down beside. "Claire, that's a nice name." Historia said with a smile. She looked over to Miss Claire again. There was something on her that didn't look weathered, which was the sash around Miss Claire's waist. It was a really pretty sash, and it made Historia wonder if perhaps it had some sort of special meaning to Miss Claire or if she just really liked it. "As for food," Historia said, responding to what Miss Claire told her, "I was thinking of ordering some myself in a minute." She added before turning around to Miss Mysaren. Historia didn't really notice before that she smelled a bit...funny...and she was covered in dirt...Perhaps she was a grave digger or something like that? "Will you be ordering something yourself?" Historia asked her. No sooner had Historia asked that though, did Historia notice that there was some music playing. She looked slightly past Miss Mysaren to see a man playing on the little makeshift stage. The tune was lovely, though Historia didn't know if it was a common tune or if the musician had written it himself as she was still getting used to this country. Historia then turned her full attention back to Miss Mysaren, deciding that perhaps she would talk with the musician later.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren Location: Blue Moon Tavern Mysaren looked up at Historia, smiling again. "Hm? Oh, uhm, probably just a drink or two," She said, seeing no reason to lie. She'd left behind that part of her self, or at least, she liked to think she did. "I was actually looking to get a room here for a while." She was still a bit intimidated by the bartender, owner, who ever he was. He seemed to be able to look through everything about her, and it made her a bit twitchy. She felt her stomach flip at the smell of food cooking, and she hadn't eaten in a while, but she couldn't afford it, not if she wanted to get a room. She'd have to sell off her loot soon, or she may have to live off of whatever she can find for a while. She heard the music start, and turned her head to watch the man playing perform. He wasn't bad, she had to admit. She wasn't a fan, but there was skill, she could appreciate that much. She turned back around after a while though, only half listening. The tune almost sounded familiar, but she couldn't put a name to it. She sighed, desperate for a drink and a nice, hot meal.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern A ruckus could be heard outside the tavern, banging and rumbling. Suddenly, the doors to the tavern burst inward and a shower of glitter follows behind a speeding streak of blue and white. Naida skids to a stop in the middle of the tavern and looks around with a large smile on her face. "Woah! Fast start to a day huh?!" she says rapidly, looking around. "Sorry I'm late!" She flies over to counter, pulling on her skirt apron and giving Bernard a kiss on the cheek. "Hey Bernard baby!" Her silvery blue and white hair flies about her head as some of the people at the counter begin shouting orders at her. She smiles quickly and says, "Coming right up!" She whips out a drink mixer and begins to pour the orders, pouring faster than any normal bartender could go. She pushes the drinks down the bar to the customers and she grins again. Before Bernard can even ask, Naida is out at the tables, taking orders and moving faster than those other waitresses could even go. She smiles at each of the customers and gives them each her best attention. "You want an omelet? Sure! I can whip that up in a jiff. What about you, hun? A bloodied steak? Coming right up!" Moving as a blur, she flits back over to the kitchen and shouts orders to the cook before turning around and smiling at Bernard again. "I think that makes up for a little of my tardiness, don't you think?" Before he can answer again, she wanders back over to the bar and looks around. She notices Historia in the corner and yells, "Hey darling! Glad to see ya here!" She also notices that she's talking to a new girl and says, "Hey, girly! You look great!" She turns back to Bernard and asks, "Has the demon been in yet?" She chuckles kindheartedly, thinking of Kat. She should really begin to try to get along with her, but she really can't. It's in her nature. She looks around and notices Sessamaru in a corner, hovering above the ground. She grins and, moving quietly, she walks over to him sneakily. "Hiya, Sess!" she says loudly, right next to his ear.</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf .</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix had a large bag full of going coins on his belt, this was thanks to his latest thievery from a greedy noble who had unfairly taxed the peasants and robbed them of their money. While he didn't give a single bit of care at the unfairness that was done to the peasants, he did however like stealing the man's money and got a laugh when he heard the man's screams of anger upon seeing that he had been robbed. Azzrix was now going to celebrate his success with his thievery. He came to the Blue Moon Tavern as the early lights of the morning began to come over the horizon, and Azzrix wanted to get a drink and was willing to share his wealth with the lucky people who were in the tavern at the time. He grinned at the thought of having the best food that the business could over and he was going drink till he fell to the floor. He quickly walked up to the tavern and came with a loud boom as he made the door bang open, and he gave them all a smile. Azzrix held up his bag of gold coins and shook it making it create a jingling noise. "Bartender! A plate of your finest meat and cheese and drinks for me and everyone in here! I am here to celebrate my recent amass of wealth." he said to everyone with a big smile. He hoped that this act of generosity would make him liked among the tavern goers and help get him some allies in case a mission came up that he would need assistance with.</s>	<\|message\|>Drubbins A few minutes pass before the door opens again. However, none of the fresh morning light seems to make its way inside. There's something blocking its passage completely. A single massive arm works its way inside, grabbing the top of the door frame as the being ducks its head to poke into the room. Its head seems small in comparison to its everything else as it twists its body to the side to slide through the door. It almost seems to explode into the room, the scarred pale skin of its bulk suddenly taking up the entire entryway as it draws itself to full height and casts its gaze about the room. This sudden appearance seems to shock those near the door into inaction as it takes three loud lumbering stride and opens its black toothed maw to speak. "A bloke told me," He calls out over the music in a deep, rumbly voice that seems to climb all the way up from his gut. "Dat dere was people what would deal with me here!" He'd heard that very clearly from that fancy bloke near the city gate. He'd turned to this other bloke as soon as Drubbins had walked past their carriage and said it. Blue Moon Tavern. He'd even gone back to ask that bloke, but couldn't get a proper answer on account of the bloke going very still when he'd come up to the window. But just a name was better than nothing, especially when he'd been wandering for what felt like a good long time with no one to tell him what to do. There were the problems of not knowing where the tavern was, and not knowing how he'd know when he saw it on account of him not being able to read, but fortune smiled on him as he made his way through the sleepy streets. He'd seen something come from around a corner and streak past him down a side street, something that was awfully blue, and figured whatever that was must be going to a place called the Blue Moon Tavern. He was really proud of putting that one together. That was an example of good thinkin'. He'd taken off after whatever it was as fast as he could, which was deceptively fast for a creature his size. It was a benefit of being so tall and not having to worry about anyone getting in your way. The thing he was chasing though was so fast he'd only caught sight of the tail end of it a few times. If its route hadn't taken it down a few long streets he would have lost it completely. But with luck he'd kept up and saw it streak into this building, which turned out to be full of blokes who looked like they were celebrating something. They were probably the boss of this places boys. Speaking of which... "Somebody point me to Da Boss!"</s>
<\|description\|>Drubbins Race: Ogre Gender: Male Age: 56 Occupation: As close to a professional henchmen as anyone is ever likely to get. Personality/Interests Drubbins is what would politely be called "simple." This is actually quite intelligent for an ogre as he's figured out that not krumpin' every last living thing he sees to eat there flesh and tender marrow is the best way to get ahead in the world. He's generally got no will of his own, willing to follow the orders of whomever he deems to be "Da Boss" (normally whomever is currently feeding him) no matter what those orders may be. He figures this is the best way to live because he, bein' not so smart n'all, will always make wrong decisions. This blind faith makes him steadfast, loyal, and very very gullible when it comes to his boss and anyone the boss puts in charge of him. When he's not doing something for the boss he enjoys the typical ogre activities of eatin' and drinkin', and the not so typical ogre activity of thinkin'. He's actually quite the philosopher for an ogre, and sits thinkin' and listenin' to the smart people talk in the hopes of one day becoming smart himself. Details [i]Body build: Thick. Arms and legs like tree trunks, with arms so long they drag along the ground. Fat with muscle. Hair: None. Hair color: None. He has no hair, that's trolls. Skin color: Mottled grey Eye/Iris color: Red Height/Weight: 8ft tall/Heavy Notable Features: Pronounced underbite, sharp jagged teeth visible covering his upper lip. Long, sharp, black nails on his fingers and toes. Body is covered in badly healed scars and he has a hatched head embedded in his skull. Clothing Description A large ragged kilt held on by a leather strap that goes over his shoulder. Equipment Black iron wristbands on both arms. Weapon(s) Generally the heaviest thing around he can pick up. Powers Weirdly lucky. Abilities Super strength, Super endurance, thick leathery hide that can shrug off most normal human blows. Talents Just throwing things. He's gotten really really good at throwing things over the years, he's got excellent aim. Magic None Sessamaru: Dis dog bloke, he seems like a boss, right? 'Sept he's just knockin' about like me, innie? Where's he live? Historia: Bird bloke, always doin' somefing for a boss. Like me. Saha: Don't see many snake blokes 'round here. Don't see many ogres either. Hmmm...likes drinkin'. Seems awright, for a snake bloke. Katelia: Oh wait, ders an ogre. No. 'Old on. Dat's a person. Someone krumped him good. Was it da pet? Wish I had a pet. Wanna see who's gots more scars? Dats a fun game. Julio: Tiny bird bloke. Put him behind me when dey kick in da door. Feels nice, bein' 'round him. Azzrix: Quick little git like dis take off wif half da bosses gubbins when fings go bad. I'm watching you, quick little git. Margaret: Don't trust witches no more. Dey can put needles in yer thinkin' bits. Don't put needles in my thinkin' bit witch, or I'll krump ya. Naida: Bar bloke. Make's nice music. Talks to me in my thinkin' bits. I don't like it, but I won't tell him that 'cause I like him. Mysaren: Feel comfortable 'round this bloke. Somefing about him's, ya know, where you remember somefing and it gives ya a feelin'? Slike dat. Tahira: Give em' a house and some boys and dis'ed be a proper boss ta have. Rimau: Dis is da type a boy ya want widcha when dey kick in da doors. Or just standin' 'round lookin' big. Or Lookin' for somefing. Or someone. Point is, da type a boy you want 'round. Claire: Tiny bloke. Scary bloke. Good bloke to have 'round. Viggo: Git. Makes nice music, but then krumps it with dat loud stuff. What'se for? Rouen: Have I krumped this bloke before? Maybe he was doin' the krumpin'. Not sure. Heads fuzzy. Dis is da sort of bloke that ends up kickin' in da door. Felan: I ain't never seen a dog dat big before! Noooo, stop bein' a git. Go back ta bein' a dog.</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf The sun peeked in past the wooden shutters of a cozy home. The house wasn't too big, but it didn't need to be. A fireplace smoldered on one end of the large, single room. A hand crafted table sat by the window, two slightly larger than normal chairs tucked in under it. The floor was dirt, swept and kept uniform. Several piles of pelts were nestled into various corners, with dogs sprawled across them lazily. A bed sat on the other end of the room, made of strong wood and cushioned with a mattress stuffed with feather and fleece. A couple blankets made up of various animal pelts covered the large man that slumbered there. A few more dogs had made themselves at home, one across his legs and one curled up at his back. The door of the house was left cracked open, fear of intruders not even a thought. Who would trifle with such a sizable resident and his many hounds? However, the heavy wooden door creaked open as someone dared to enter the home. Soft footfalls patted across the dirt floor, approaching the bed where the man slept. A soft, fuzzy white nose pressed into one of his large shoulders, exposed by the slipping blanket. The man grumbled and shifted, encouraging another poke. He blinked awake to look into the shiny black eyes of a young lamb, curious and eager for morning treats. It gave a soft bleat. A sleepy smile spread across the man's face as he reached out a massive hand to caress the lamb's head, fingers scratching under it's chin. "Good morning to you too, little girl," He said, voice gruff with sleep. The man slowly sat up, the excited lamb bleating and scampering back outside. One of the two dogs that laid on the bed lifted its head to watch. The man stood and began going about his morning routine. He pulled on some clothes: a pair of brown wool pants and a soft leather vest, trimmed with sheepskin. A couple of the canines in his home followed him around as he checked on the livestock. Some were not dogs at all, but wild wolves who had made themselves at home there. They seemed to enjoy the man's company; and as long as they didn't harm his sheep or livestock, they were welcomed to stay. The farmer hauled a few bales of hay out to his fields, dividing it among the sheep, goats, donkeys, and equines. He dug handfuls of seeds from a barrel to toss onto the ground for his chickens, exchanging them for a basket full of fresh eggs. The eggs were almost immediately turned into breakfast. Between the man and whatever begging hound was lucky enough to win his pity, they were mostly devoured. As the morning went on, the chores did not end. The firewood was chopped, the horses were groomed, hooves were trimmed, goats were shaved, and sheep were sheared. Of all the sheep in land, the ones on this farm seemed to yield the finest wool. The rate at which it grew was almost alarming. Between being spoiled by their shepherd, and never having to worry about a wolf attacking them, they were perhaps the happiest sheep as well. The goats grew soft coats of cashmere that needed shaving about once every four months. It could be made into soft clothing or blankets, easily dyed any sort of color. The upper class seemed to enjoy wearing it. Mostly because they could afford it. Once the animals were cared for, the garden came next. Fruits and vegetables were picked from the vines and taken into the house. The man himself didn't care much for food grown from the ground. Most of it was to feed his livestock. The lambs trailed after him eagerly as he walked into his home and dumped his pickings onto his counter. After having a few tiny hoofed feet jump up on his legs, the farmer finally caved and handed down a chopped apple. As the sun grew higher into the sky, the fleece and cashmere cut from the morning were bagged up into burlap sacks. With the aid of one of his donkeys, the man headed off towards the town with his load. ======================== It didn't take long to sell off his stock. The town's merchants always kept an eye out for the large man, whose head poked up above most others. When they saw his donkey carrying sacks, they would approach him with all ranges of offers. They would buy his fleece and process it, then sell it for twice the amount. The farmer knew good and well that he could make more profit if he really wanted to, but what use did he have for so much money? He took the pay he had and went down the road to his favorite tavern. It was an old tradition to come into town about once a week and enjoy the company of other people for a change. The man patted his donkey on the head as he tossed the loose sacks over it's back, sending it off to find its way home. For a beast of burden, it was incredibly smart. All of his creatures seemed to be. The man ducked his head as he stepped inside the tavern, his bare feet padding softly as he walked across the old wood floor to find a seat. It was a bit busy today, with faces that were both familiar and strange. The man sat himself down at one of the tables and waited for the nice young woman that worked here to bring him his usual.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Horse hooves clopped along the rocky dirt road. A lone hooded figure in a brown cloak steered his horse forward. A great sword three-quarters a man's height shifted in rhyme with the horse's movements. "Three weeks and no sight of any remnants," he thought glumly. He frowned and looked at his bruised hands. It had been months since he had left the boundaries of the Dukedom. Months of traversing hilly terran, fighting bandits, and looking for anything that might help him on his mission. Months, and all he had to show for progress was an unkempt grizzled face, clothes that badly needed to washed, and the smoking paralyzed corpses of dead highwaymen and creatures on the road behind. He was exhausted, and his horse's sluggish movements indicated that it too was growing weary of the long journey. His bruised hands were only a small part of his suffering. His feet were cold and aching, there was an itch on his back he couldn't reach, and now his stomach growled in complaint. Rouen never really learned to scavenge, so food was scarce. The silver and gold coins that jingled in his belt-pouch had little value in the woods, where civilization and consequently anything that could be bought could be weeks away. They neared a turn and Rouen could see in the corner of the treeline, looked like a tavern. "Finally! Civilization!" he thought as his face beamed with excitement. In his joy he discharged a jolt of electricity from his hand into his mount. The shock caused the horse to shriek and start jumping and tossing in a panic. "Whoa! Whoa! Easy girl! Easy!" he shouted as he jerked on the riding handles. The mount kept trying to shake him off and suddenly bolted into full speed towards the tavern. Rouen was too busy trying to stay on that he didn't realize the growing sight of the tavern's signpost, a blue half-moon. With an audible smack his head collided with the wooden plaque and he fell onto the ground.</s>	<\|message\|>Drubbins Drubbins accepts the pint with as much grace as he can muster, holding the mugs handle between his forefinger and thumb. Da Boss pointed over to the thing in the back covered in papers and notices. He'd seen maps before, bosses sometimes had those, along with a whole bunch of plans and notes that made no sense to him. Usually someone smarter than him just pointed to a place on the map, then a bunch of boys would take him to that place where they'd find a thing, or take a thing, or find a man, or krump a man, or something along those lines. Just his luck that the nobby looking rat bloke decided just that moment to come over and introduce himself. Funny thing, though, saying he was the boss. Drubbins took the whole introduction in with a sort of detached calm, taking the opportunity to down his entire pint in a single gulp, before shifting his big red eyes back to Bernard. There was usually one or two blokes in every organization that was planning to krump the boss and take over the operation, but they didn't make habit of saying so right in front of the boss. That, and the fact that Da Boss wasn't making any indication that he wanted the rat bloke krumped, convinced him that this was another joke. "Ahhhhhhhahahahaha," he laughed, taking one massive hand and slapping Azzrix as lightly as he could on the back. "Ya got some funny boys 'round here Boss." He said to Bernard, setting the empty mug back on the bar before turning back to Azzrix. "'Ey funny boy, what's dat for?" He said, pointing to the notice board. "Dat da plan? S'my job on dere?"</s>
<\|description\|>Tahira Raske Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: Mystic/Enchanter/Occasional Merc Personality That Tahira's is Intelligent is clear to anyone who speaks with her, she can bandy words with the best when she wants to and is surprisingly well-educated. However, as a result of being ostracized in her early childhood she is often Aloof and closed off. That doesn't mean she is hesitant to interact with others, it only means she doesn't have a lot of experience connecting with people emotionally. Anyone who works with her can tell you she is Hard Working, always willing to shoulder the burden herself if need be, and although few have had a chance to experience it she is extremely Loyal. Interests Tahira discovered a love for travel on her way to the Blue Moon Tavern, the world is a much bigger place than she thought it was growing up. She also loves to learn, whether it's history or how to make a dish her hunger for knowledge is insatiable. She also possesses a strong desire to protect the things that matter to her. Appearance Details Body build: Curvy, Athletic Height: 5'9" Hair: Short, Wavy Hair color: Raven Skin color: Pale Eye/Iris color: Amber Height/Weight: 145 lbs. Notable Features: Will be noted. Clothing Description Robes, typically hooded, of varying lengths, colors and styles. Equipment Scale armor cuirass, and whatever she can create magically. Weapon(s) A long, curved blade dagger in a holster she keeps on her lower back. Powers None Abilities None Talents Reading, Writing, Runic Script, Magical Lore, Wilderness Survival, Herbalism/Alchemy, Poison Tolerance, Astrology, hand-to-hand combat and light weapons training. Magic Mysticism and Auramancy. She primarily draws on the power of the spirit to protect, detect and enchant, or make constructs out of spirit energy. Tahira's Impressions Sessamaru: "So virtuous, he has either seen too little of the world or too much." Historia Saurvale:"It would not hurt others to be as courteous as she." Saha Thulaja Era: "She is at home in the Blue Moon, something that is unexpected for one of her kind, but she is still dangerous." Katelia:"I do not blame her for her reticence, it is clear that she has sufferred." Julio: "I know little of that one's motives, but perhaps we share a common interest in nature's remedies." Azzrix Grimmor: "Boasting does an assassin nothing, the best killers die unremarked." Margaret von Eisenberg: "I know her type too well to trust her, but perhaps I could learn something from her." Naida Marcoon: "I would be hard pressed to find a patron who doesn't like her." Drubbins: "His yearning to learn is admirable, I hope it carries him far in life." Mysaren: "She is quite...statuesque, and shows a surprising frugality which others could learn from." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Regardless of what is said about him, that lizard has seen things." Claire Alexandria: "There could be more to that one than meets the eye, I wouldn't mind finding out." Viggo Malmsteen: "I know little of music." Rouen Fulgur: "If he were to rule, they would call him a tyrant." Felan the Wolf: "A man of humble origins, he reminds me of shaman I once knew."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire allowed herself to remain a viewer, an outside party who is not involved, yet can look in. She watched as a lovely blue streak came in and began working. She was clearly in her element. She watched as she neared the party of three, regarded the two others, and went back to being a blur. Soon after a jingling sound and a loud voice drew her viewers eyes away. A free meal, how lovely. Claire bent over and drew her gold pouch from her travel bag. Untying the small knot she had previously made, she saw that she had very little coin left. She probably wouldn't have been able to stay the night. even if the man didn't pay for her meal. She sighed. "Is this all a common occurrence?" Claire asked over to Historia. She seemed to be the most experienced one of the bunch. Hysteria was reading her weapon...A bit jumpy perhaps. A lumbering figure found it's way into the scene. Another player in the blurring fantastic play she found herself in. They bellowed about the boss, and finding some place to be. Interesting, blur, free meal, boss, jumpy...Poor, hungry. A wave of energy ruptured past her. Her heart clenched. She shuddered. Something shattered. Claire sucked in air. She didn't know she had stopped. "I hope it's not.." she commented more to no one then to Historia. As if to console her, a plate of food appeared in front of her. She looked up to see the stoic face of Bernard. She nodded thankfully in return, but of course if he saw it, it was a mystery. She look to her conversation partners. Perhaps she should wait for them to be served too...</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern "Oooh, Sess, I'm really sorry!" Naida exclaims, reaching out to help him up. "I was just trying to have a little fun!" She smiles at him. "I haven't seen you in forever... Well, forever in being yesterday, but still..." Suddenly, the door bursts open and a man runs through yelling for drinks and how he is buying everyone in the bar a drink. Naida rolls her eyes and smiles at Sess. "I'm probably going to have to take care of that in a minute. Can you believe some of these thieves, man? I mean, I know that's Azzrix, but still, you don't need to barge into every place and flaunt your money." She rolls her eyes again and laughs, the light bell sound echoing through the tavern. Every time she talks, people can rarely understand her because she talks so speedily and she changes topics so fast that people often times do not follow her. "I really am sorry that I scared you, Sess," she states. "I'll make it up to you. I'll make you your favorite dish on the house. I'll even cook it myself if that helps at all." She grins at him, hoping that he'll accept her apology food... thing. Right then, the ogre bursts through the door and she sighs. He begins demanding to know where the boss is. "Give me a minute." She flits over to Bernard with a blur and a sprinkle of glitter across the floor and apologizes. "Sorry about the damage to the bar. You can take it out of my paycheck for this month. I'll take care of the big guy if it's any consolation." Before he can answer yet again, she flits up to the ogre and she notices that she is not as tall as this humongous being is. In fact, she is down right puny in his presence. She smiles at Drubbins, fluttering directly in front of his face, and says, "Hello, sir! I am Naida Marcoon, part time bartender." She grabs his hand and shakes it rapidly, glitter and fairy dust from her wings and arms and legs falling to the ground. She then sets his hand back down by his side with another wide grin. Her hand began to coat with ice, a reflexive magic move that was defensive, just in case someone got out of hand in the bar. "May I ask who is asking for our boss? Actually, a better question would be what are you asking for? I mean, normally people just ask for the boss's name so that they can do business with him. Oh! Is that why you're here? Bernard has a lot of people who does business with him..." Naida's excitement gets ahead of her and she begins to randomly jump from tangent to tangent, probably confusing the poor fellow to no end with how rapidly she's talking and how quickly she changes subjects. A couple minutes later she realizes what she's doing. "I am so sorry sir. Faeries are known for having short attention spans though. Anyways, who is asking for our boss?" Right then, Bernard rings his bell and Naida looks back over at him. "Oh! There he is right there. You can go seem him if you would like. I take it by the bell ringing that he would like to talk to you as well. Not a very talkative fellow, but he's a good boss" She flits away back to Sessamaru and says, "Now, what were we talking about?"</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) It wasn't long before Kat saw the blue sparkles that signaled the sprite had made her appearance. She considered flagging her down and ordering food if only to annoy Naida, but decided against it. Kat was bored, but not that bored. Besides, that imp would probably just spit in her food anyway. Kat raised an eyebrow when a walking, talking rat sauntered into the tavern, ordering a round for everyone present. Exchanging a glance with Hel (Is this guy for real?) she shrugged. If he was paying, she wasn't gonna turn down a meal. Not that the tavern actually ever made you pay. It was the principle of the thing. She motioned to a waitress skittering back and forth through the tables and ordered a drink and a healthy plate of food. She almost spat out said drink when an ogre of all things busted through the tavern door. Some dark newcomer to the tavern was already on her feet, blade drawn. Well, she's a twitchy thing. This would be entertaining sure, but Kat wasn't really in the mood to watch someone get slaughtered. "Hey," she called out, still leaning casually at her table, "big guy." She gave a short whistle and raised her arm above her head, beconning the ogre towards her with two fingers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hel looking up at her, decidedly unimpressed. She winked back at him and he just rolled his eyes with a huff. Still, his tail flicked back and forth across the tavern floor, the only sign that he tensed in case any trouble came from Kat's… socialization. "You looking for the boss?" she asked him. Gesturing with her chin at Azzrix, she continued, "That's him over there. They call him Sir Rat, the Inexterminable. He likes it when you bow and kiss his hand."</s>	<\|message\|>Tahira Raske Old parchment rustled soothingly as Tahira turned to the next page in A History of Elrikur, which she read with a complacent smile in the shadows of her hood. She sat cross-legged between two bookshelves on the floor of the tavern's library, absorbed in her reading as usual, with the gentle murmur of conversation and revelry drifting in from the rest of the tavern to provide a warm atmosphere. As she read, many new sounds mixed in with the conversation, adding flavor to that atmosphere. The harmonious melody undoubtedly played by Viggo, and the excited chatter that could only mean the arrival of Naida. These things were interesting, yes, but they didn't break her concentration on the book before her. At least until she felt the backlash. Expanding outwards from a single point beyond the door, a virulent wave of arcane energy washed over the tavern. Tahira had little time to prepare, so as it passed through the library it scalded her delicately attuned magical senses, much like walking from the darkness into bright sunlight would sting the eyes. The book dropped from her hands, followed quickly by a foreign curse which would have revealed her coastal heritage were there any in earshot. Rubbing her temples, Tahira climbed to her feet cautiously. Whatever that had been, it was likely not intentional and she sensed no further spikes in magic coming from the next room. However, just to be safe she erected a spirit barrier around herself, invisible to normal eyes, which would protect her from the disorientation of another wave. Picking up the fallen book, she placed it back on itself and brushed off her knee-length robes. There would be no going back to reading now, she had a few herbal remedies which would soothe her headache, but a drink would do the same and it gave her an excuse to investigate what had just happened. Naida was apologizing to Sessamaru profusely as Tahira stepped out of the library and into the tavern. It seemed that his potent magic was at the center of this issue, but they were not well-acquainted enough for Tahira to feel comfortable prying. Instead, her eye caught the Witch, Margaret, who was ensconced in the same bench she had been the night prior. It was a safe assumption that she had been similarly affected by the magic, so Tahira thought it would be a good opportunity to approach her. Of course, she didn't consider what the combined effect of alcohol and volatile magic might have felt like at so close a range. Stepping up the witch's table, she addressed her prone form. "Was that as...uncomfortable...for you as it was for me?" she asked, her voice it's typical low-pitched murmur.</s>
<\|description\|>Tahira Raske Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: Mystic/Enchanter/Occasional Merc Personality That Tahira's is Intelligent is clear to anyone who speaks with her, she can bandy words with the best when she wants to and is surprisingly well-educated. However, as a result of being ostracized in her early childhood she is often Aloof and closed off. That doesn't mean she is hesitant to interact with others, it only means she doesn't have a lot of experience connecting with people emotionally. Anyone who works with her can tell you she is Hard Working, always willing to shoulder the burden herself if need be, and although few have had a chance to experience it she is extremely Loyal. Interests Tahira discovered a love for travel on her way to the Blue Moon Tavern, the world is a much bigger place than she thought it was growing up. She also loves to learn, whether it's history or how to make a dish her hunger for knowledge is insatiable. She also possesses a strong desire to protect the things that matter to her. Appearance Details Body build: Curvy, Athletic Height: 5'9" Hair: Short, Wavy Hair color: Raven Skin color: Pale Eye/Iris color: Amber Height/Weight: 145 lbs. Notable Features: Will be noted. Clothing Description Robes, typically hooded, of varying lengths, colors and styles. Equipment Scale armor cuirass, and whatever she can create magically. Weapon(s) A long, curved blade dagger in a holster she keeps on her lower back. Powers None Abilities None Talents Reading, Writing, Runic Script, Magical Lore, Wilderness Survival, Herbalism/Alchemy, Poison Tolerance, Astrology, hand-to-hand combat and light weapons training. Magic Mysticism and Auramancy. She primarily draws on the power of the spirit to protect, detect and enchant, or make constructs out of spirit energy. Tahira's Impressions Sessamaru: "So virtuous, he has either seen too little of the world or too much." Historia Saurvale:"It would not hurt others to be as courteous as she." Saha Thulaja Era: "She is at home in the Blue Moon, something that is unexpected for one of her kind, but she is still dangerous." Katelia:"I do not blame her for her reticence, it is clear that she has sufferred." Julio: "I know little of that one's motives, but perhaps we share a common interest in nature's remedies." Azzrix Grimmor: "Boasting does an assassin nothing, the best killers die unremarked." Margaret von Eisenberg: "I know her type too well to trust her, but perhaps I could learn something from her." Naida Marcoon: "I would be hard pressed to find a patron who doesn't like her." Drubbins: "His yearning to learn is admirable, I hope it carries him far in life." Mysaren: "She is quite...statuesque, and shows a surprising frugality which others could learn from." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Regardless of what is said about him, that lizard has seen things." Claire Alexandria: "There could be more to that one than meets the eye, I wouldn't mind finding out." Viggo Malmsteen: "I know little of music." Rouen Fulgur: "If he were to rule, they would call him a tyrant." Felan the Wolf: "A man of humble origins, he reminds me of shaman I once knew."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku The old Zizz soon descended the stairs and entered the main room of the tavern, scanning his head from left to right. It was considerably busier than usual this morning, he noticed. Lots of strange folk hanging around, too. There was some fancy-pants Rodent hanging about; could've sworn he's seen that one before. But there was something even stranger next to him; a giant Ogre was standing there with a pint in his hand (seemed like a woefully inadequate amount for a creature of his size), laughing in the Rodent's face. He couldn't see the Rodent's face, and that was a shame, because he'd probably have been putting on a funny expression. Off in one of the corners, he squinted at the redhead witch hanging about in the shade. It wasn't an evil squint, mind you, but a competitive squint; he had been at the tavern for about a week now, and had had ample opportunity to acquaint himself with that one. He couldn't help but admire her ingenuity with that Crossbow of hers. She could prove problematic if any big-time mercenary work pops up, with all that old-school magic of hers. Cheating? Yes, but only if you got caught. Then there was that Sheep herder at one of the tables. Best ignore that one, he thought. He'd been sneaking about 'his' land again, and he didn't seem to have a good sense of humour. The sort of person who'd go nuts if you so much as mentioned the idea of controlling animal population. Which was a shame, given the enormous Wolf he'd spotted in the area. That was going to prove quite the prize, when he had some free time. What was particularly irritating at this time in the morning, though, was the sheer business of the place. The Zizz usually sat in one of the comfy seats off in the corner somewhere, but it seemed like that area was flooded with young fools getting drunk at nine A.M., or whatever time it was. Morons! They'd probably end up dead before the day was done, he thought as he chuckled to himself slightly, though not forgetting his irritation. As a result of these morons, however, the Zizz was forced to manuever his way past quite a few patrons (not an easy task thanks to his height and tail swaying about) and clamber up on top a lone stool at the bar, somewhere he rarely ever sat. There was a good reason for this, which made itself apparent pretty soon. Ignoring the great wall that was the Ogre to his left, he rummaged about in one of his belt pockets to retrieve his prized Pipe, made of dark wood as per usual Zizz preference. Removing the little cap to stop all the pre-packed 'medicinal' herbs from falling out, he removed a match from the same pocket and attempted to strike it against the bar. No luck. He tried it again, and again, and about six more 'agains' before he could finally squeeze a little flame off it, grumbling to himself the entire time. That was another weird thing about the tavern; it always took more effort to light matches. Some sort of newfangled suppression field, perhaps, which might also explain the sheer lack of the usual bar fights he'd seen in... just about every other tavern he'd been to. Except the ones in Tarzblik, obviously. For entirely different reasons. Finally, he stuck his Pipe in his toothy mouth and lit it with the match, waving it about afterwards to turn the fire into a little smoke puff. Of course, that was nothing compared to what happened afterwards as the Zizz began to actually smoke said Pipe, releasing much bigger puffs of smoke which spread across the bar. Of course the Zizz didn't particularly care for any inconvenience this may cause, since the calming herbal sensation had him captivated. It was enough to make him grin again, in that classic terrifying fashion Zizz were known for.</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was slightly disappointed that Kat hadn't taken the mug he had offered, but she did already have one. He then heard the orge's response and even though he kept a straight face Azzrix had a vein bulging on his head. How dare this creature make his offer of help a game, if he wasn't of noble birth then he would have taken this beast's head. Even though his mind was thinking violent thoughts Azzrix still smiled at the inferior creature before him. "You're a funny one ogre, what is your name, you do have a name right?" he asked with a smile still imagining throwing a knife at him. He took sips of his mead and felt his anger calm down for a bit. He was waiting to see what kind of mission he could take to earn some money and also see if there would be a chance for him to steal from a challenging wealthy person, maybe he would also get an assassination mission. God only knows when he would get a chance to practice his assassin skills on a mission and he wondered how well the others would do on such missions. Azzrix was more interested in working with magic users, muscle was good, but he had plenty of that and anymore stealthy people would mean that he would lose the franchise, he had enough stealth. Magic on other hand he had none of and so getting a good magic user to work with him would open up a whole world of possibility and fencing magical artifacts would get him a really great amount of gold, he's heard stories about some magic guilds being loaded thanks some of them being able to make gold with their magic. Azzrix especially would love to get his hands on the alchemy formula to create gold if it existed, an infinite amount of gold would be very useful for expanding his family's influence and ambitions of his own.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Dat'd be Drubbins." The Ogre announced proudly. "Dats da name..." He quiets down, thinking back. Drubbins didn't have the best memory in the world. He remembered general things, but who's and where's and when's generally leaked out of his head between bosses. He didn't consider this a bad thing, it cleared space for all the new people he'd be putting in his head, but even he wouldn't forget a life changing encounter. "Dats da name I was givin' by Malia Burg, da Source-ress, on account a my big 'ands and what I could do wif 'em."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire listened intently to Historia as she answered her question, nodding slightly here and there. As soon as her...friend, here got her food, Claire worked up the courage to try her own. Clearly far behind Mysaren, she took a few dainty bites of her meal. Honestly she was quite hungry, but she never knew eating any other way. "It certainly is..." Claire stopped to look around the place, choosing a word for the tavern. "Warm." She finished. She regarded the large ogre, now enjoying a drink with the stoic barhand and ratman. Next was the white haired boy with animal ears. He was the source of the magic earlier...The cheery blue, working as she wanted, and another new face. A reptilian man smoking to himself at another seat..."and interesting." She continued before going back to eating. Her food was warm and quite good, not what she was used to, but she was enjoying it so far. As she ate she on and off watched her two companions. They were quite different people, but they didn't seem bad. "Thank you." She added softly, avoiding eye contact. She didn't know what exactly she was thanking them for, but it seemed right.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) The tavern was certainly getting lively. People were bustling this way and that, mingling with each other, and Kat was just about done with all this for the day. Entertaining characters aside, she was tired. Hunting in the forest all night tended to be a draining experience. Kat knew, tired as she was, any reservations she had about making smartass comments would be all but gone. And Hel could only hold her back so much. "Well," she said with an exaggerated sigh, patting Hel on his great furry head to signal it was time. "This has been a pleasure, my lord," she said to Azzrix, "but I really must be going." Hel got up so Kat could stand. It was time for a nice nap in the forest. She had a permanent room at the tavern, but if the magical mishap had been any indication for the day, it would be too rowdy here to get any rest. On their way out as they weaved through the crowd, Kat saw some people that made her reconsider. The Zizz was out and about, which usually meant a fun time. And Felan had just entered in his quiet way. He wasn't as lively, but Hel was fond enough of him. Kat just gave them both quick nods as she left. When they finally got outside, Hel almost immediately shoved her back through the door. A frantic horse, wild and riderless was thundering towards them. The snow leopard jumped in front of her, baring his fangs and hissing at the mare. The horse slid to a stop, tearing up her front legs with a screech. And then she was turning, dashing away from the two of them. Lowering his hackles, Hel relaxed his stance, while Kat just looked after the horse, eyebrow raised. It was then that she saw the horse's rider, flat on the ground. Glancing at Hel, she walked around her companion to squat next to the man. "Trouble with your horse?" she said slyly, A smirk making its way onto her face. Hel plodded up beside her and nudged him a bit with his nose, sniffing.</s>	<\|message\|>Tahira Raske Although she didn't quite agree, Tahira smiled at the comment about Viggo's music as she sat down in the chair Margaret had offered her. The charm that the witch was referring to intrigued her, as their magic both strayed along a similar path, so she pulled back her hood far enough to expose her amber eyes so that she could see it in detail. Her senses were still upset from the earlier shock, but she could still identify the trinket's energy. She was capable of making her own enchantments, but she preferred keeping them temporary, which meant she wasn't arrayed in enchanted items unless she was going out on one of the few missions that caught her attention. In three months, she had only found a handful of jobs that interested her. Realizing she had been silent for a second longer than was comfortable, Tahira looked up from the charm. "How long have you practiced the arts?" she asked, hesitant at the personal question. However, magic users were so dynamic in skill and knowledge it was natural for her to be curious.</s>
<\|description\|>Tahira Raske Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: Mystic/Enchanter/Occasional Merc Personality That Tahira's is Intelligent is clear to anyone who speaks with her, she can bandy words with the best when she wants to and is surprisingly well-educated. However, as a result of being ostracized in her early childhood she is often Aloof and closed off. That doesn't mean she is hesitant to interact with others, it only means she doesn't have a lot of experience connecting with people emotionally. Anyone who works with her can tell you she is Hard Working, always willing to shoulder the burden herself if need be, and although few have had a chance to experience it she is extremely Loyal. Interests Tahira discovered a love for travel on her way to the Blue Moon Tavern, the world is a much bigger place than she thought it was growing up. She also loves to learn, whether it's history or how to make a dish her hunger for knowledge is insatiable. She also possesses a strong desire to protect the things that matter to her. Appearance Details Body build: Curvy, Athletic Height: 5'9" Hair: Short, Wavy Hair color: Raven Skin color: Pale Eye/Iris color: Amber Height/Weight: 145 lbs. Notable Features: Will be noted. Clothing Description Robes, typically hooded, of varying lengths, colors and styles. Equipment Scale armor cuirass, and whatever she can create magically. Weapon(s) A long, curved blade dagger in a holster she keeps on her lower back. Powers None Abilities None Talents Reading, Writing, Runic Script, Magical Lore, Wilderness Survival, Herbalism/Alchemy, Poison Tolerance, Astrology, hand-to-hand combat and light weapons training. Magic Mysticism and Auramancy. She primarily draws on the power of the spirit to protect, detect and enchant, or make constructs out of spirit energy. Tahira's Impressions Sessamaru: "So virtuous, he has either seen too little of the world or too much." Historia Saurvale:"It would not hurt others to be as courteous as she." Saha Thulaja Era: "She is at home in the Blue Moon, something that is unexpected for one of her kind, but she is still dangerous." Katelia:"I do not blame her for her reticence, it is clear that she has sufferred." Julio: "I know little of that one's motives, but perhaps we share a common interest in nature's remedies." Azzrix Grimmor: "Boasting does an assassin nothing, the best killers die unremarked." Margaret von Eisenberg: "I know her type too well to trust her, but perhaps I could learn something from her." Naida Marcoon: "I would be hard pressed to find a patron who doesn't like her." Drubbins: "His yearning to learn is admirable, I hope it carries him far in life." Mysaren: "She is quite...statuesque, and shows a surprising frugality which others could learn from." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Regardless of what is said about him, that lizard has seen things." Claire Alexandria: "There could be more to that one than meets the eye, I wouldn't mind finding out." Viggo Malmsteen: "I know little of music." Rouen Fulgur: "If he were to rule, they would call him a tyrant." Felan the Wolf: "A man of humble origins, he reminds me of shaman I once knew."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Thank y'kindly." The Lizard returned the courtesy to the Sprite. But once that was over with, he wasted no time in grabbing the glass given and downing the entire thing in one go; it wasn't exactly unusual for him to drink his fruit juice in such a way. Only problem was, after he drunk it, he felt an almost electrical jolt of energy course through his entire body, making him shiver and widen his eyes. If he had hairs, they'd all be standing on end. This wasn't a bad thing, however, because to comprehend what he saw next, he'd need to be awake as possible. A boy... girl... thing in a white overcoat typically worn by human religious missionaries burst into the bar and started talking all rainbows and cupcakes. S/he did this all the way up to, and on the other side of, the bar, a little too close for comfort. Rimau looked on with even wider eyes and a blank expression of bewilderment. Then he said to the wo/man: "Huh... ain't seen you 'round 'ere before, kid." What especially confused him here was that no-one else seemed to react the same way he did. Maybe s/he was a regular, but he wouldn't know, since he only discovered the ostensibly legendary bar less than a week ago. Could just be another sign of its apparent weirdness. "...What's yer deal?" He continued, licking the inside of his mouth to get the most out of his juice. "...Y'part o' the Church o' Happy-ology or somethin'? Y'act like that on a day-to-day basis, there's good odds some'un'll turn yer face into a modern art masterpiece, let alone 'convert'!" He propelled up and slightly over the bar to add weight to that last part, but he couldn't hide the little grin on his face. He sat back down to let the remark sink in for a bit, before waiting for the best opportunity to start laughing, allowing his little grin to pop open. "...Baahhh, I'm just messin' with ya! ...B'seriously, though..." He added, changing his expression to a solemn and serious one almost cartoonishly quickly; something that took a bit of practice, it seemed. "...That cheerful stuff creeps folks out, kid. Makes people think y'tryin' to... do somethin'. Like, y'got an agenda. No-one is 'at 'appy normally 'cept a slimy lil' hatchlin' fresh from the shell. Makes it cute in kind of er... never mind, it's a Zizz thing." What proved interesting now, though, was the bits of paper s/he was pinning to the wall. He once again tried to stretch his upper body over the bar to get a closer look, his view obscured by the mass of people milling about like... a mass of people.</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix gave a bigger smile when Mysaren and Claire thanked him for the drinks and asked him what business that he had in mind. "I am looking for people to go on missions with and I am pretty sure that some will come up soon. I am perfectly fine with doing them myself, but I find having a group to aid you is much better for health than doing them alone. So if any of you are interested in going on a mission then I am perfectly fine with you coming along with me. There would be riches to be had and the promise of glory." he said to them calmly. He was hoping to find allies to make doing the tougher missions easier, his family may have liked a challenge, but they weren't stupid. "Remember Azzrix, if you can have assistance in job with a person you can trust then always have it." Azzrix remembered his dad telling him that when he was a young child learning how to be an expert thief.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale "Ah! Yes a tour, thank you Miss Mysaren." Historia smiled when she remembered where she left off. "Well I could show you around now-" She started to say but was cut off when the ratman from earlier (she had yet to catch his name) came over and started to talk to them. "Oh, well thank you for the compliment Mr. Grimmor, but I only did what I thought was right as I doubt any of us wanted to deal with a fight in here." She gave Mr. Grimmor a smile, "And thank you for the meal, and I do hope you don't think me rude, but I can't take you up on your offer for drinks. The ability to fly mixed with alcohol has never ended well for my kind." But Historia didn't have to go without a drink for long as Mr.Bernard made his way over to them with a bottle in his hand. She was surprised when Mr.Bernard actually spoke to her while popping the cap off the bottle. Historia was a little under the impression that Mr.Bernard couldn't speak but now she knew better. "Oh, thank you very much Mr. Bernard." Historia told him as she took a sip of the drink. The fizz tickled her lips and it tasted like strawberries. It was amazing! "Ah, well. Looks like I don't have to go without a drink after all." She told Mr. Grimmor as the priest came in with today's jobs. "As for business, well, I mostly do small missions and act as a messenger or courier, so if you need anything delivered, I might be able to help. Though if there is a big group, I might be persuaded to help. But I promised these two a tour soon. I'm hoping to find a job or two around the city that we might be able to do together as a way to show them around." Historia looked at the board and at the small crowd that was still around it. But it might take a bit to even get to the board. "If that's alright with you two that is." Historia told her companions when she looked back.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen raised his eyebrows as Naida spoke and looked at the drink suspiciously. "Eh, she is probably jesting," he thought and raised the mug up, eyeing the amber ale. Still, he took a small sip and placed it on the bar table. "Doesn't taste too bad, a little sour end but the flavor is unique. As long as it is more palatable than revolting I suppose," he thought. He ate a spoonful of the soup that was placed in front of him. "Hog's meat, now this is a fine stew. Worthy for the court," he thought and a smile grew on his lips. He quietly finished the stew and began sipping on the brew. Content and satisfied he leaned back. He pulled out a small white piece of paper, an ink vial, and a quill from his belt satchel. Hundreds of little black lines crossed the surface of the paper. "Let us see one…two……forty-five….one-hundred….," he thought counting the lines on the paper. "273, that makes nine-months. Goddess have I really been gone for that long?" Brushing the quill into the vial of ink he added another line to the piece of paper. He leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes. "All this time, and still no sign of what I am looking for." He thought remembering visions of the black hulking being in the dark forest. He swept his left hand to his right arm, feeling the scars that lined it underneath the leather jerkin. Rouen hadn't felt terror like that. It was an experience that he wished to erase from his mind but at the same time refused to forget. It was something that was forever scarred into the landscape of his subconscious. The trauma echoed in the walls of his psyche. Sometimes he would dream of the encounter, and wake sweating feverishly. He opened his eyes, and lightly shook his head trying to think of something else. Sighing, he reached into his satchel and pulled out a small ring with a red garnet etched into its center. "I wonder if she still remem-," he thought, but it was interrupted as he overheard someone say, "The Remnants haven't been stirring up trouble lately," "Remnants?" he thought. The mere word alerted him and he brought himself to a level position. He looked behind him and saw the man who spoke, he was pasting something up on the board. Rouen immediately grabbed his paper, vial, quill, and ring then stuffed them into the satchel. He sternly walked up behind the man. "Excuse me, did you mention something about Remnants?" Rouen asked.</s>	<\|message\|>Tahira Raske Tahira chose to ignore the witch's slanderous remark towards the musician. She didn't have a strong opinion of his music but she did recognize that it took some skill, and there was no danger of her falling under the sway of that particular spell, since the magic blast from earlier had made her more alert. In fact, she was interested in how he fused magic into his music and made a mental note to ask him later. For now, she would focus on one thing at a time, and that was awaiting Margaret's response to her question. "Oh, quite a few years. Under various masters and from various sources. I suppose that's the defining quality of witchcraft - learning on your own and largely by doing." she shrugged at Tahira's question. "It is more reliant on resources than the magic itself, which can make it rather costly at times though." Hmmm, that was rather interesting. So she used components for her magical works? That made sense considering the nature of her charm. Tahira's magic relied on the strength and focus of the spirit, but she didn't have an opportunity to respond as the tavern's new ogre crouched beside her for help reading. That was certainly something she didn't have a problem offering, she loved reading and writing, and anyone who wanted help with it was worth her time. However, Margaret intercepted the question before she had a chance to see it and the ogre withdrew the paper to analyze it more closely. Then the musician, Viggo, stormed up to them, apparently he had heard the witch's rather vocal criticism. The events unfolding in the rest of the bar escaped Tahira's notice as she was caught on the fringes of the heated exchange. Pulling her hood farther down, to hide her eyes once again, she hoped her placement at the table wouldn't affect her chances of weaseling some magical secrets out of Viggo later. As the argument resolved itself, Margaret turned her attention to the ogre and she could see the gears turning in the witch's head as she ordered pancakes. Since she was not exactly in a breakfast mood, Tahira thought it would be best to talk to her at another time. "Thank you for the information," she said, nodding to Margaret and then Drubbins. "I hope you don't mind if I…leave you two to your meal." As she stood up, she took note of Priest and those gathering around him and decided to see what jobs would be available. Navigating through the patrons of the somewhat crowded tavern, she noticed a few new faces, but she wasn't the type to stop and greet them as she made her way to the board, stopping next to a new knight. Anything particularly magic related would catch her interest, so that is what she looked for as she stood behind Priest, analyzing each job as he put it up until one caught her eye. A rare jewel? The Mages of Elrikur? Yes, this is the one. "Priest...what do you know of these mages, and the gem they seek?" She asked, tilting her head curiously.</s>
<\|description\|>Tahira Raske Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: Mystic/Enchanter/Occasional Merc Personality That Tahira's is Intelligent is clear to anyone who speaks with her, she can bandy words with the best when she wants to and is surprisingly well-educated. However, as a result of being ostracized in her early childhood she is often Aloof and closed off. That doesn't mean she is hesitant to interact with others, it only means she doesn't have a lot of experience connecting with people emotionally. Anyone who works with her can tell you she is Hard Working, always willing to shoulder the burden herself if need be, and although few have had a chance to experience it she is extremely Loyal. Interests Tahira discovered a love for travel on her way to the Blue Moon Tavern, the world is a much bigger place than she thought it was growing up. She also loves to learn, whether it's history or how to make a dish her hunger for knowledge is insatiable. She also possesses a strong desire to protect the things that matter to her. Appearance Details Body build: Curvy, Athletic Height: 5'9" Hair: Short, Wavy Hair color: Raven Skin color: Pale Eye/Iris color: Amber Height/Weight: 145 lbs. Notable Features: Will be noted. Clothing Description Robes, typically hooded, of varying lengths, colors and styles. Equipment Scale armor cuirass, and whatever she can create magically. Weapon(s) A long, curved blade dagger in a holster she keeps on her lower back. Powers None Abilities None Talents Reading, Writing, Runic Script, Magical Lore, Wilderness Survival, Herbalism/Alchemy, Poison Tolerance, Astrology, hand-to-hand combat and light weapons training. Magic Mysticism and Auramancy. She primarily draws on the power of the spirit to protect, detect and enchant, or make constructs out of spirit energy. Tahira's Impressions Sessamaru: "So virtuous, he has either seen too little of the world or too much." Historia Saurvale:"It would not hurt others to be as courteous as she." Saha Thulaja Era: "She is at home in the Blue Moon, something that is unexpected for one of her kind, but she is still dangerous." Katelia:"I do not blame her for her reticence, it is clear that she has sufferred." Julio: "I know little of that one's motives, but perhaps we share a common interest in nature's remedies." Azzrix Grimmor: "Boasting does an assassin nothing, the best killers die unremarked." Margaret von Eisenberg: "I know her type too well to trust her, but perhaps I could learn something from her." Naida Marcoon: "I would be hard pressed to find a patron who doesn't like her." Drubbins: "His yearning to learn is admirable, I hope it carries him far in life." Mysaren: "She is quite...statuesque, and shows a surprising frugality which others could learn from." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Regardless of what is said about him, that lizard has seen things." Claire Alexandria: "There could be more to that one than meets the eye, I wouldn't mind finding out." Viggo Malmsteen: "I know little of music." Rouen Fulgur: "If he were to rule, they would call him a tyrant." Felan the Wolf: "A man of humble origins, he reminds me of shaman I once knew."</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon NaidaBlue Moon Tavern Naida rolls her eyes as Sess asks for another bowl. She quickly dishes him some more, this time adding a little fairy dust to it so it will quell his hunger for at least a good hour, and says, "Alright, great! You and I can do a job together. I get to choose." She sets the bowl down in front of him, sticking her tongue out at him in a childish way as she does, and flits over to the job board, hovering above most of the people's heads. She notices one that looks very interesting and pulls it down off the board. Taken She reads the description quickly and flits back over to Sess, showing him the job. "How's this one? I think I know the daughter; I've seen her in here with her parents more than once." She then notices that it says that the island is on the river nearby. She smiles, delighted. It has been a long time since she has been in her mermaid form and she fears that she would die of withdrawal if she were to go any longer. "If we do this job, we need to stop by my house before we head out," she tells Sess. "Ileft my bow and arrows back there, along with a few of my knives. I hope that's alright." Her eyes scan over the paper again, curious on how much the reward is. It doesn't say, but from what she has seen from the parents, they are quite rich. She looks over at Bernard and says, "Hey, Bernard! I might be leaving a little early today." She grins at him and holds up the paper. "Gotta job to do."</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Sess swiftly continues to eat the stew, slowing down when he noticed a strange new flavor, almost like an exotic spice. The swordsman looked at the bowl, then to Naida. With a sigh and a shrug, he finished the new dish and wandered away into the kitchen. There was a commotion, a lot of yelling from the chef, and the kitchen door explodes open with Sessamaru running out of it, holding a giant pot full of the stew. "Miss Naida! Let's go!" He cried, fearing for his life whilst being chased by the chef and the other cooks. The cooks and chef began to throw objects at the fleeing Sess, who chugged the pot down while running, each object miraculously missing him. Dropping the now empty pot, the swordsman reached the door and left the tavern, leaving Naida to her own devices.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen looked hard at the priest. He shifted his gaze to the wall behind him. There were several papers attached to it. "Okay thank you," he replied curtly to the man. Other people seemed to be trying to talk to the priest so Rouen maneuvered around them to look at the board. He searched the wall with a finger for anything mentioning a cave. "A help board? Well that is a new idea," he thought looking at the variety of requests. Many of the requests seemed juvenile, like petty thievery or missing pets. They were jobs meant for squires and the local guard force. Things that were of no interest to Rouen at all. He found what the priest was talking about."A cave eh? Well hopefully I get the luck of the draw this time around," he thought. "I wouldn't be surprised if what this priest thinks a remnant is turned out to be another overgrown solitary fay creature." Rouen had searched many caves, abandoned houses, and valleys in the past nine months of travelling. Most of them were just that. Caves, abandoned houses, and valleys. Occasionally he would run into some fay creature like an ogre or harpy. Even then the majority of them were fairly harmless. None had actual Remnants. He sighed, "Well this is the only information I have so far, maybe it will actually lead me somewhere."However, as he turned around a smile grew on his face. "Back to the field," he thought happily thinking of this next part of his journey. The field was a term he used for where the action occurs. It was where battles took place, quests were completed, and history happens. Rouen didn't care if this cave turned out to be just some abandoned spookhole. He was a knight. The field, whether it be some cave, castle, forest, or a plain landscape was his duty. It was where he found his purpose. He walked toward the bar where there was an empty bowl of soup and half a mug of ale. Shuffling through his pouch he put down two silver coins. Looking at the big man who looked like the bartender Rouen said, "This should cover the stew," he said. He then put another silver coin down, "And this is for the lady. Please pass on my compliments." He turned and it looked like people in the bar seemed to be crowding over the message board. "So many people willing to help each other. This may be a fay tavern but the community seems to be healthy. It must be the human aspect," he thought. His eyes shifted to some of the more conspicuous folks. There was a woman wearing a robe made of a swirl of vibrant colors. "She must be important, I've only seen diplomats and high nobility wear such expensive gowns," he thought and couldn't help but admire her figure. He next looked at the one-armed village girl and glared. "Bah, someone will teach her manners one day. I shouldn't overreact like that again, it is beneath my station," he thought. Smile on his face, Rouen turned towards the tavern door and began to walk onto the road.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen After his little spat with the witch, Viggo swung by the bar, sitting down on a stool nearby his iced bucket of beer bottles. He uncorked one with his teeth and quickly consumed its contents, resting his idle hand flat on his guitars strings. Once sated, the guitarist stood again, wiping his lips with this thumb, and cast his gaze in the direction of Rouen who had been looking over the various contracts pinned to the large message board. With a huff, Viggo pushed himself off his seat and made his way over to the board to see if he could find something to do. Viggo poured over the messages, rolling his eyes at more than one. "Boo hoo, you lost a dog.. Buy a new one.." he uttered quietly while hunched forward to pour over the rest of the notices. At last, his eyes fixated on one that seemed worthy of his talents. After noting the details to memory, Viggo moved towards the bar, whistling to get Bernard's attention. "Hey, Bernie, what's the deal with this daughter situation. The island quest, with the uh, disgusting tribespeople" he would question, leaning forward onto the bar, having swung his guitar behind his back once more.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon NaidaBlue Moon Tavern Naida stares after Sess as he runs out the door, mouth agape, before slamming her palm into her forehead and dragging it down her face with an exasperated sigh. "You've got to be kidding," she murmurs to herself. She quickly helps the cooks and chefs pick up their things, apologizing profusely for her friend's behavior before grabbing the job and flying toward the door. She sees Sessamaru walking farther up and she sighs. She probably isn't going to be able to get him to go toward her house. She begins to fly slightly above the ground before she flies over to her house rapidly. Not bothering to go in through the door, she flies in through the window she always keeps open. She quickly grabs her quiver of arrows and her wooden bow that she got from her mother's former friends. She stares at the bow for a brief moment, tears beginning to form at the edge of her eyes. She quickly wipes them away and pulls the quiver and bow over her shoulders. She then walks over to her closet and pulls out a few knives, shoving them in her boots. She then grabs her dark blue head back and pushes her hair back out of her face. She is about to fly back out the window when she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She notices the scar on her stomach, slightly exposed under her mid-length cropped t-shirt. She sighs, running her hand along it for a moment before she flits back out then window in a dash of fairy dust and glitter. She flies above the road for a brief moment before she sees Sess still walking down the road. She flies down and lands next to him, still gripping the job in her hand. She shakes herself a little bit and smiles at him. "So, you ready?"</s>	<\|message\|>Tahira Raske In response to Priest's concerns, Tahira expressed her agreement with a polite nod. While she appeared distant and mysterious to some, it were those very qualities which would point the astute observer to one of her defining traits, caution. If the priest thought the mission was too difficult to perform alone, she would seek out at least one partner to join her on the job, despite their potential to get in the way of her own scholarly interests in the gem. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long to find a prospective partner. As Rouen walked away from the board, and others came and went, Kat stepped up and pulled down the Arcane Collective's flyer. Glancing at her leopard, she said "Wanna kill some Drakas?" Although the question had not been directed at her, Tahira stepped closer and provided her own answer. "If you seek another partner to accompany you, I am quite interested in this quest," while speaking, she turned her eyes from Kat to Hel and back, as if addressing them both. She had not had much interaction with these two, as they did not stray near the library in which she spent most of her time, but they had proven themselves capable trackers from what she had heard.</s>
<\|description\|>Tahira Raske Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: Mystic/Enchanter/Occasional Merc Personality That Tahira's is Intelligent is clear to anyone who speaks with her, she can bandy words with the best when she wants to and is surprisingly well-educated. However, as a result of being ostracized in her early childhood she is often Aloof and closed off. That doesn't mean she is hesitant to interact with others, it only means she doesn't have a lot of experience connecting with people emotionally. Anyone who works with her can tell you she is Hard Working, always willing to shoulder the burden herself if need be, and although few have had a chance to experience it she is extremely Loyal. Interests Tahira discovered a love for travel on her way to the Blue Moon Tavern, the world is a much bigger place than she thought it was growing up. She also loves to learn, whether it's history or how to make a dish her hunger for knowledge is insatiable. She also possesses a strong desire to protect the things that matter to her. Appearance Details Body build: Curvy, Athletic Height: 5'9" Hair: Short, Wavy Hair color: Raven Skin color: Pale Eye/Iris color: Amber Height/Weight: 145 lbs. Notable Features: Will be noted. Clothing Description Robes, typically hooded, of varying lengths, colors and styles. Equipment Scale armor cuirass, and whatever she can create magically. Weapon(s) A long, curved blade dagger in a holster she keeps on her lower back. Powers None Abilities None Talents Reading, Writing, Runic Script, Magical Lore, Wilderness Survival, Herbalism/Alchemy, Poison Tolerance, Astrology, hand-to-hand combat and light weapons training. Magic Mysticism and Auramancy. She primarily draws on the power of the spirit to protect, detect and enchant, or make constructs out of spirit energy. Tahira's Impressions Sessamaru: "So virtuous, he has either seen too little of the world or too much." Historia Saurvale:"It would not hurt others to be as courteous as she." Saha Thulaja Era: "She is at home in the Blue Moon, something that is unexpected for one of her kind, but she is still dangerous." Katelia:"I do not blame her for her reticence, it is clear that she has sufferred." Julio: "I know little of that one's motives, but perhaps we share a common interest in nature's remedies." Azzrix Grimmor: "Boasting does an assassin nothing, the best killers die unremarked." Margaret von Eisenberg: "I know her type too well to trust her, but perhaps I could learn something from her." Naida Marcoon: "I would be hard pressed to find a patron who doesn't like her." Drubbins: "His yearning to learn is admirable, I hope it carries him far in life." Mysaren: "She is quite...statuesque, and shows a surprising frugality which others could learn from." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Regardless of what is said about him, that lizard has seen things." Claire Alexandria: "There could be more to that one than meets the eye, I wouldn't mind finding out." Viggo Malmsteen: "I know little of music." Rouen Fulgur: "If he were to rule, they would call him a tyrant." Felan the Wolf: "A man of humble origins, he reminds me of shaman I once knew."</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat blinked when the priest's words finally trickled in through her 'annoying shit I don't need to hear' filter. "However, it is being guarded by Drakas, Remnants from the continent of Shoba." She very nearly slammed the paper back onto the board then and there. Remnants… After what happened last time, Kat'd done all she could to avoid them. Memories surfaced through a fog: a Remant's shriek, pain like fire igniting her blood, a snow leopard's yowl… she felt her breath catch in her throat at the idea of facing one again. She felt like a child, letting herself be paralyzed so, but she couldn't bring herself back from her reaction. Hel watched her with a heavy gaze, sensing her unrest. A new voice cut through the air, jolting her out of her thoughts. It was the witch, Tahira, asking to come along on the quest Kat'd just claimed. She was half tempted to just shove the paper at the other woman and tell her to do it on her own, but she hesitated. Kat eyed her, and looked back at Hel. The great cat's tail swayed easily behind him, back and forth, measuring the seconds. Kat remembered the silver coin the knight had given her, and how he'd reassured her she could live a fulfilling life in spite of her 'impairment.' She remembered how easily Hel had killed the boar they'd spent the night hunting, carrying it on his back all the way to the tavern, never slowing or tiring, or needing any help at all. She remembered the memories she'd long trained herself to not think on, and the feeling of helplessness that came with them. It was a feeling that had once been alien to her. Kat's gaze focused then, and she turned back to Tahira. "Come along if you want," she replied, her voice bored and uncaring as ever. "Guess you're a better pick than most of these other idiots." The witch was… unsettling, but she had yet to do anything to annoy Kat. Hel didn't trust her, but that didn't say much. Hel rarely trusted anyone. Besides, she was almost as big a mystery to Kat as Bernard was, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't the least bit curious. That's what Kat thought, at least, when she asked herself why now of all times she accepted the idea of another companion on a job.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia watched as not only Mr. Grimmor left the group, but also Miss Mysaren followed suit as well, both of them going over to look for jobs at the board. "Uh, bye?" She called out to them before sitting back in her seat, continuing sipping on the drink Bernard was kind enough to give to her. She watched as the two found jobs and partners for themselves (or in Mr. Grimmor's case, rushing out the door to find his partners). Historia began to wonder if there would be that many jobs left as she watched people still look at all the jobs at the boards. Well, all the well paying jobs would most likely be taken, the ones that had higher difficulty. Historia didn't usually take those jobs, mainly cause she wasn't a very strong fighter. She preferred easier, albeit less paying most of the time, jobs. Historia looked at Miss Claire when she spoke up, asking about looking at the board. "Yes, I was going to take a look at the board anyways. It'd be nice to see what you might want to do as well." Historia told her with a smile as she got up and walked over with her to the board. There was only three jobs that really interested Histoira. A missing memory book that could be anywhere in the city, a quest to find a teenage thief, and a quest to find a lost dog. The dog one would most likely be the easiest to do for Historia as she could just fly above the city and look for it that way. But Miss Claire couldn't fly so that one was out of the question. AS for the one with the thief, Historia didn't really want to get involved with a quest that had a really good chance of confronting someone that might fight back. So for now, that also wasn't a good option. That left the memory book. That was something that she and Claire could do rather easily, and the quest giver was a nobleman so they might get paid decently after all. "Does this sound good to you?" Historia asked Miss Claire as she handed her the paper to look at.</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske "Come along if you want," she replied, her voice bored and uncaring as ever. "Guess you're a better pick than most of these other idiots." Kat was clearly on edge. Tahira was not an expert on interpreting body language, but the leopard was eyeing her master uneasily and, considering how close the two were, that was the only cue she needed to sense the woman's discomfort. However, she had long ago learned when it was best to stifle her curiosity. As long as it did not interfere with their mission, the diminutive woman's issues were none of her concern. Cocking her head to the side, she recalled something that might be of use to the two of them. "I believe the library holds a tome which refers to these 'Drakas' at some length," Tahira said. "You can make ready to depart while I retrieve it." Turning her back on the duo, she moved away from the job board and went through the door to the library. Her fingers traced a path along the spine of several books as she moved up and down the shelves, seeking the one she had mentioned. [i]Ah, there[i]. Her hand touched the well-worn bindings of a tome which was simply entitled On Shoba, and penned by an unknown scholar on the subject. She had yet to read it, but its inclusion in the tavern's surprisingly extensive library lent something to its credibility, so she removed it from the shelf, making a note of where it belonged. Leaving the library as quickly as she had entered, she ascended to the second floor to receive the leather satchel that hung from a hook in the wall of her room. Slipping the book into one of its pockets, she returned to the place she had left Kat, satisfied she was prepared.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat stood where Tahira left her for a moment, staring after the woman as she made her way to the library. Stuffing any memories she had down, she thought on the witch. She was a fair sort, didn't talk down to either Kat or Hel, smart, probably useful if you had her on your side… but something about her made Kat want to always know where she was. It was probably just her stoicism and ethereal nature that peaked Kat's curiosity, but still. She looked back to Hel, and said "Watch her, yeah?" This probably meant that any vindictive plans Kat had been concocting were off limits in regards to the jewel. She didn't know much about Tahira, but she struck her as someone respectful and dutiful. She'd probably frown on how Kat was not. The two made their way to their room in the tavern and Kat scooped up her bag, tossing things in or out of it as she thought of what they might need. Once they were done, they walked back to the kitchen and grabbed some handfuls of dried meat ("We killed it, we can take it," she called back to a waitress glaring at them) and filled her water flask from the tap. After that, they made their way back to the area by the board, Tahira already waiting for them. "You ready?" she asked.</s>	<\|message\|>Tahira Raske Tahira was not waiting long for Kat's return, although she did have time to note those who had left on missions and those still discussing them. Rimau and a robed newcomer seemed to be conversing rather amicably, her attire seemed to indicate a knowledge of the arcane which piqued the mystic's curiosity. Perhaps she would find an occasion to speak with her at a later date, for now she still had to familiarize herself with the witch, Margaret. As Kat asked if she was ready, Tahira nodded solemnly. "The cave we seek lies within the forests of Barvra," she said, tugging the satchel higher on her shoulder and straightening her robes. "The journey there should not be too strenuous, but once we delve into the forests it will become rather dangerous," she had studied Elrikur's geography, and new where the forest lay. It would not be too long before they reached their outskirts, depending on how they set their pace.</s>
<\|description\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Race: Zizz (Human-sized Bipedal Lizards, leaning more towards Lizard than Human; think Dinolfos, as opposed to Argonian ) Gender: Male Age: 303 Occupation: Hunter, Tracker and occasional Mercenary. Personality/Interests: Rimau has a rather mercenary approach to life, who desires nothing more than an easygoing job that pays well; preferably one that makes use of his prime talent of 'shooting things'. He's actually quite friendly and chatty if you can get him going, though he has a rather dark sense of humour; he's the sort of fellow who finds flailing burn victims kind of funny, especially if he caused it. Though he can easily come across as cranky and senile (he has a habit of rambling incessantly and ranting about random things), he's actually quite intelligent, at least on a tactical level. Appearance Details: Body build: Possesses a rather lean musculature; is quite fit for his age, but that's not saying much. Hair: What sort of Lizard has hair? Hair colour: See above. Skin colour: Dull, dark green. Can appear quite cracked and dry in places due to his age. Eye colour: Orange. Height/Weight: About 5'0'', but appears shorter since he's usually hunched over. Quite light. Notable Features: Has about four 'whiskers' coming off his chin and jaw that resemble a beard. Also has two bullet scars on his chest, near his heart. Clothing Description: His dress sense could be best described as 'eccentric'. Despite not being an aviator at all, he wears a black leather aviator hat with accompanying goggles, with a set of colourful feathers stitched to the side. He also wears a matching fur-lined leather vest (with the head of a mechanical dinosaur and the words 'Gekko Gras Muriak' stitched to the back), and a bandolier for holding bullets. Aside from this, the rest of him is bare; after all, his kind needs a lot of space to absorb heat. He doesn't have any visible 'equipment', either. Equipment: He has a belt on which he carries assorted items necessary to make his special ammo, such as gunpowder for explosive hollow-point ammo, oil for incendiary ammo, and so on. Of course, these supplies are limited. Weapon(s): His weapon of choice is a Repeating Revolver Rifle affectionately dubbed 'Skrin-Ko' ('Smart' in Zizz language). Like most Zizz technology, it is utilitarian in appearance and made of blackened metal and darkened wood (sort of like this), and has a custom scope attached to the top (made from an old telescope). He also has a machete with a splintered handle, which he uses more as a tool than anything else. Powers: Nothing here. Born on the same level as the rest of his kind. Abilities: As a Zizz, he possesses a tough, scaly hide that is considerably harder to penetrate than human skin. He also has an enhanced sense of smell (from his tongue) and sight, which is particularly useful for his line of work. The Zizz also have the ability to heal from injuries faster than other species, though due to his age it takes over a week at least, and he can no longer grow back entire limbs or anything similarly major. Talents: Crack shot with a Rifle. Has shot people from a mile-and-a-half away (or 2.414 kilometres). He is also something of a handyman; besides repairing Skrin-Ko, he can also jury-rig his own ammo and construct and place an assortment of traps (such as Bear Claws, Trip Mines and anything else he can think of), provided he has the right materials, of course. Magic: While he has no magic of his own, he once hired an enchanter to magically bind Skrin-Ko to him; this means that no-one can fire the Rifle but him. His machete is fair game, however. Miscellaneous Notes: His name, 'Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku', translates to 'Rimau, son of Rimau, times twelve'. It's not his full name. Due to the nature of his work, he often takes medicine to keep him awake for extremely long periods of time. As a consequence, when he's not working, he is something of a heavy sleeper. He prefers warm, sunny, dry climates. He becomes infinitely more grouchy in cold or wet environments. He particularly enjoys smoking various herbal substances with a pipe. Keeps him calm and alert. Sessamaru: "Nice kid. He ain't gonna get far if he don't get more realistic about the ol' warfare, though. Plus, he eats like a Pig." Historia: "Textbook youngster; friendly, wants to travel, real naïve... she'd better shape up or she'll end up a Sunday roast, heh." Saha: "Boy, I'd love to hang her picture on the wall." Katelia: "I like this girl... she ain't got an ounce o' hospitality in her, but fun to watch. Remember to not shoot her cat." Julio: cough cough "Whaddya mean that's a guy?!" Azzrix: "I can't believe the Rodent ain't been put on the choppin' block yet. What kinda thief acts like this?!" Margaret: "I see a bit o' myself in this lady... but she's got a long way to go before she can shoot with the best of 'em. Even with that fancy Crossbow." Naida: "Well, if it ain't my favourite Sprite bartender? I dunno if there's a cocktail she can't make!" Drubbins: "Most Ogre dumb-asses ain't good for much besides easy target practice. This guy... he's somethin' else." Mysaren: "Somethin' ain't right about this kid. She's nice, but... nah, probably nothin'." Tahira: "Not bad, but a bit lackin' in humour, when all's said an' done. I don't think I've ever seen her laugh!" Claire: "Never 'eard of 'er. Is she a looker?" Viggo: "Boy, lemme tell ya... Blunderbuss next to the ear drum? That's frickin' Opera compared to the drivel this kid calls music!" Rouen: "This dumb-ass is pretty funny to listen to. 'Specially his precious Dukedom. The pinnacle of order, huh? Yeah, it's a frickin' circus compared to Tarzblik, kiddo." Felan (Human): "I dunno 'bout this kid. He ain't a dumb-ass, but he ain't exactly fond of hunters, either." Felan (Wolf):"I ain't never seen a dog that big. I'll have to clear some space if I wanted to mount his head on the wall."</s> <\|message\|>Margaret von Eisenberg Spark Just when Margaret thought her prediction about the day would true, a few things happened that spoke otherwise. At first, the one called Azzrix arrived and ordered ale. Perfect! Nothing like a glass of something mild to ease the body out of the hangover. Just as she was about to thank the rat, the light dimmed significantly in the room. Squinting, she found out it was an ogre obstructing her sun. Were it anyone else, she might have gone to complain, but with the sheer size of him and his most likely disproportionate intellect, the witch thought it wise to keep her mouth shut. Oh, and somebody unleashed the magical equivalent of a fart. Oh joy. Fortunately, Margaret wasn't as affected as one might believe. first of all, her affinity for magic was considerably lower than that of a wizard, and second was the little charm hanging around her neck. It was a silver chain with a stylized figure of a human hanging on it, with it's head replaced by a sapphire decorated with cracks that were tainted in crimson. the stone seemed to be giving off a faint glow that was diminishing slowly. Still, it wasn't anything she would like to repeat. If only because it made the bartender use that hellish bell that made her head ring for long minutes afterwards. She was soon distracted form her misery though as she was approached by someone. Looking at the source of the question, her eyes fell on a robed woman, possibly younger than herself but who could tell under that hood. Tahira, was it? She has seen - or rather not - her around the library. It sparked a little bit of interest in the witch, even if only a professional one. "Aye, it wasn't anything worth repeating. Much like most of the musical numbers around here." Margaret nodded, waving her hand to an empty chair at the table she was occupying. "But these things make wonders." she said and tucked on the charm around her neck.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren felt the burst of energy, and felt Historia's wings close around her. She was forced back into her seat, her hand slipping from her blade again from the force of it all. It all happened so fast, and her entire body shook by the end of it, her mouth held open. She had her hand on her bag, about to run, but decided to stay. Some of the commotion had finally calmed down, and the plate was set in front of her by one of the mysterious men the owner brought in. "T-thanks." She gulped to Historia. She started to nibble on her food, her hunger replaced by panic and hysteria. Yet, the screaming still hadn't started. This was past weird, and ventured into utterly terrifying. A burst of energy like that should've killed something, he knew it. One of the older folks in the tavern, hell even a gnat on the wall, but death seemed to escape this place, and it scared her. Death was natural, something that was around every corner. Mysaren was almost too well acquainted with how common death was, especially in a tavern like this, but she felt a deep worry in her chest. Something was off. She started to eat anyways, though. Maybe the lack of food recently was makin her a bit skittish. She still scarfed down the meal quickly though, not caring that anyone was watching. She was starving, utterly and truly starving, and a hot meal was happily accepted. She still needed a bath though, a bath and some nice clothes. That would make the day go a whole lot better.</s>	<\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku The old Zizz soon descended the stairs and entered the main room of the tavern, scanning his head from left to right. It was considerably busier than usual this morning, he noticed. Lots of strange folk hanging around, too. There was some fancy-pants Rodent hanging about; could've sworn he's seen that one before. But there was something even stranger next to him; a giant Ogre was standing there with a pint in his hand (seemed like a woefully inadequate amount for a creature of his size), laughing in the Rodent's face. He couldn't see the Rodent's face, and that was a shame, because he'd probably have been putting on a funny expression. Off in one of the corners, he squinted at the redhead witch hanging about in the shade. It wasn't an evil squint, mind you, but a competitive squint; he had been at the tavern for about a week now, and had had ample opportunity to acquaint himself with that one. He couldn't help but admire her ingenuity with that Crossbow of hers. She could prove problematic if any big-time mercenary work pops up, with all that old-school magic of hers. Cheating? Yes, but only if you got caught. Then there was that Sheep herder at one of the tables. Best ignore that one, he thought. He'd been sneaking about 'his' land again, and he didn't seem to have a good sense of humour. The sort of person who'd go nuts if you so much as mentioned the idea of controlling animal population. Which was a shame, given the enormous Wolf he'd spotted in the area. That was going to prove quite the prize, when he had some free time. What was particularly irritating at this time in the morning, though, was the sheer business of the place. The Zizz usually sat in one of the comfy seats off in the corner somewhere, but it seemed like that area was flooded with young fools getting drunk at nine A.M., or whatever time it was. Morons! They'd probably end up dead before the day was done, he thought as he chuckled to himself slightly, though not forgetting his irritation. As a result of these morons, however, the Zizz was forced to manuever his way past quite a few patrons (not an easy task thanks to his height and tail swaying about) and clamber up on top a lone stool at the bar, somewhere he rarely ever sat. There was a good reason for this, which made itself apparent pretty soon. Ignoring the great wall that was the Ogre to his left, he rummaged about in one of his belt pockets to retrieve his prized Pipe, made of dark wood as per usual Zizz preference. Removing the little cap to stop all the pre-packed 'medicinal' herbs from falling out, he removed a match from the same pocket and attempted to strike it against the bar. No luck. He tried it again, and again, and about six more 'agains' before he could finally squeeze a little flame off it, grumbling to himself the entire time. That was another weird thing about the tavern; it always took more effort to light matches. Some sort of newfangled suppression field, perhaps, which might also explain the sheer lack of the usual bar fights he'd seen in... just about every other tavern he'd been to. Except the ones in Tarzblik, obviously. For entirely different reasons. Finally, he stuck his Pipe in his toothy mouth and lit it with the match, waving it about afterwards to turn the fire into a little smoke puff. Of course, that was nothing compared to what happened afterwards as the Zizz began to actually smoke said Pipe, releasing much bigger puffs of smoke which spread across the bar. Of course the Zizz didn't particularly care for any inconvenience this may cause, since the calming herbal sensation had him captivated. It was enough to make him grin again, in that classic terrifying fashion Zizz were known for.</s>
<\|description\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Race: Zizz (Human-sized Bipedal Lizards, leaning more towards Lizard than Human; think Dinolfos, as opposed to Argonian ) Gender: Male Age: 303 Occupation: Hunter, Tracker and occasional Mercenary. Personality/Interests: Rimau has a rather mercenary approach to life, who desires nothing more than an easygoing job that pays well; preferably one that makes use of his prime talent of 'shooting things'. He's actually quite friendly and chatty if you can get him going, though he has a rather dark sense of humour; he's the sort of fellow who finds flailing burn victims kind of funny, especially if he caused it. Though he can easily come across as cranky and senile (he has a habit of rambling incessantly and ranting about random things), he's actually quite intelligent, at least on a tactical level. Appearance Details: Body build: Possesses a rather lean musculature; is quite fit for his age, but that's not saying much. Hair: What sort of Lizard has hair? Hair colour: See above. Skin colour: Dull, dark green. Can appear quite cracked and dry in places due to his age. Eye colour: Orange. Height/Weight: About 5'0'', but appears shorter since he's usually hunched over. Quite light. Notable Features: Has about four 'whiskers' coming off his chin and jaw that resemble a beard. Also has two bullet scars on his chest, near his heart. Clothing Description: His dress sense could be best described as 'eccentric'. Despite not being an aviator at all, he wears a black leather aviator hat with accompanying goggles, with a set of colourful feathers stitched to the side. He also wears a matching fur-lined leather vest (with the head of a mechanical dinosaur and the words 'Gekko Gras Muriak' stitched to the back), and a bandolier for holding bullets. Aside from this, the rest of him is bare; after all, his kind needs a lot of space to absorb heat. He doesn't have any visible 'equipment', either. Equipment: He has a belt on which he carries assorted items necessary to make his special ammo, such as gunpowder for explosive hollow-point ammo, oil for incendiary ammo, and so on. Of course, these supplies are limited. Weapon(s): His weapon of choice is a Repeating Revolver Rifle affectionately dubbed 'Skrin-Ko' ('Smart' in Zizz language). Like most Zizz technology, it is utilitarian in appearance and made of blackened metal and darkened wood (sort of like this), and has a custom scope attached to the top (made from an old telescope). He also has a machete with a splintered handle, which he uses more as a tool than anything else. Powers: Nothing here. Born on the same level as the rest of his kind. Abilities: As a Zizz, he possesses a tough, scaly hide that is considerably harder to penetrate than human skin. He also has an enhanced sense of smell (from his tongue) and sight, which is particularly useful for his line of work. The Zizz also have the ability to heal from injuries faster than other species, though due to his age it takes over a week at least, and he can no longer grow back entire limbs or anything similarly major. Talents: Crack shot with a Rifle. Has shot people from a mile-and-a-half away (or 2.414 kilometres). He is also something of a handyman; besides repairing Skrin-Ko, he can also jury-rig his own ammo and construct and place an assortment of traps (such as Bear Claws, Trip Mines and anything else he can think of), provided he has the right materials, of course. Magic: While he has no magic of his own, he once hired an enchanter to magically bind Skrin-Ko to him; this means that no-one can fire the Rifle but him. His machete is fair game, however. Miscellaneous Notes: His name, 'Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku', translates to 'Rimau, son of Rimau, times twelve'. It's not his full name. Due to the nature of his work, he often takes medicine to keep him awake for extremely long periods of time. As a consequence, when he's not working, he is something of a heavy sleeper. He prefers warm, sunny, dry climates. He becomes infinitely more grouchy in cold or wet environments. He particularly enjoys smoking various herbal substances with a pipe. Keeps him calm and alert. Sessamaru: "Nice kid. He ain't gonna get far if he don't get more realistic about the ol' warfare, though. Plus, he eats like a Pig." Historia: "Textbook youngster; friendly, wants to travel, real naïve... she'd better shape up or she'll end up a Sunday roast, heh." Saha: "Boy, I'd love to hang her picture on the wall." Katelia: "I like this girl... she ain't got an ounce o' hospitality in her, but fun to watch. Remember to not shoot her cat." Julio: cough cough "Whaddya mean that's a guy?!" Azzrix: "I can't believe the Rodent ain't been put on the choppin' block yet. What kinda thief acts like this?!" Margaret: "I see a bit o' myself in this lady... but she's got a long way to go before she can shoot with the best of 'em. Even with that fancy Crossbow." Naida: "Well, if it ain't my favourite Sprite bartender? I dunno if there's a cocktail she can't make!" Drubbins: "Most Ogre dumb-asses ain't good for much besides easy target practice. This guy... he's somethin' else." Mysaren: "Somethin' ain't right about this kid. She's nice, but... nah, probably nothin'." Tahira: "Not bad, but a bit lackin' in humour, when all's said an' done. I don't think I've ever seen her laugh!" Claire: "Never 'eard of 'er. Is she a looker?" Viggo: "Boy, lemme tell ya... Blunderbuss next to the ear drum? That's frickin' Opera compared to the drivel this kid calls music!" Rouen: "This dumb-ass is pretty funny to listen to. 'Specially his precious Dukedom. The pinnacle of order, huh? Yeah, it's a frickin' circus compared to Tarzblik, kiddo." Felan (Human): "I dunno 'bout this kid. He ain't a dumb-ass, but he ain't exactly fond of hunters, either." Felan (Wolf):"I ain't never seen a dog that big. I'll have to clear some space if I wanted to mount his head on the wall."</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was still drinking when he saw the altercation go on between Kat and the newcomer. Had he not drank so much then he would have tried to break it up, but the alcohol made the idea of fight seem entertaining and he was tempted to start cheering them on, but Historia intervened, which was a bit of a surprise since she seemed very shy to him, but she actually went up to talk to a big swordsmen who seemed to have electrical powers. "Very well, little lady. I must thank you for reminding my of my post. After all manners do make the man," he said looking at her. "I shall cause no further trouble in your abode, have a good day." he heard Rouen say, he already liked this newcomer already. It was a rare thing to find such discipline, he had to be of noble birth to have manners like that Azzrix thought to himself, maybe they could work together eventually, he never objected to having more muscle in his party. He walked over to where Historia, Claire and Mysaren were sitting to start up a conversation. "That was an admirible attempt at ending their argument before it became a fight" he said to Historia. He then looked at the other two with her and gave a polite bow. "Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Azzrix Grimmor. I am paying for all of the drinks so please drink whatever you like. I hope that we can do business sometime in the near future" he said to them with a smile.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren nodded. Yes, she just wanted to show concern for Historia, that's all. She had seen too many good kids lose everything just because they got a bit too hopeful. "I just don't wish to be rude, Historia," She said after a while, her voice low and dark, "just remember that bad things can happen to good people. Watch out for yourself. At least you have me now, yeah?" At the last sentence, she grinned again, sighing and watching the patrons of the bar. "A tour?" She said, considering the possibility. Yes, a tour would be very nice. All she knew about was the tavern and the graveyard, but knowing of the other houses and buildings, especially a shop to sell her wares, would be very useful to know about. Especially anywhere she could run to in case of trouble, or in case that she needed to grab a lot of items and get the hell out of town, which had happened a few times. The guards would be called, she would grab everything she can within the nearest big house she could find, and she fled, never to be seen again. Mysaren paid little attention to the fight about to start, even when Historia got involved. She could say with about 90% accuracy that no one would've died from the fight, at least not within the first while of it. Historia handled it surprisingly well, in a more diplomatic way than she would've. Historia spoke and Mysaren looked at her. "Uhm, tour around town, things like that. That would be very useful, thank you, Historia." She didn't like that she was making friends at this point. Friends just kept her in town longer, and if she wasn't on the move constantly, someone would finally catch up to her, and thus ends the story of Mysaren. Mysaren looked up as Azzrix introduced himself, raising an eyebrow and watching him carefully. "Mysaren. Pleasure." She said rather bluntly, something off about the man in front of her. He seemed shady to her, and she didn't exactly feel like trusting him right now. Ah, what the hell, benefit of the doubt, right? She still looked wary as he spoke. "Thank you for the drinks, Azzrix, but tell me, what business did you have in mind?"</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Rupert] Rupert hopped around for a good while until Naida came by with a ball of ice wrapped in a towel. However, when she handed it to the old man, he was too unfocused to keep a hold of the item, causing it to fall onto his other foot. "Yow!" He cried, slamming his other foot down and raising the other one to hold. However, his face lit up like a flame and he dropped the other foot to grasp the other, continuing this as he cried and cursed. This continued for a good while, causing Rupert to hop around the entire bar switching feet as he hopped around. [Sessamaru] The half-breed looked at Naida as she helped him hold the ball of ice over his stomach as she help raised him to his feet, and he smiled, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. "Indeed, Miss Naida," he told her, laughing. "I feel bad for Mister Rupert, though. He will not get to enjoy his drink for a good while." Sessamaru stood up right and placed the ice-towel onto the bar, scratching the back of his head; an unorthodox habit of his. "Honestly though, I am quite fine. Nothing more than a bit of shock." He explained, his smile becoming a wide grin. However, the moment the sentence ended, his stomach let out a ferocious growl, reminiscent of a jungle cat! The half-breed bent forward, holding his stomach. "Except that," he groaned. "Miss Naida, may I have some food, please?" Sess asked, his stomach once again growling with hunger. This ground made the fox-eared youth sink to the floor. Already he could smell the food in the kitchen, causing yet another roar from his stomach. "Ugh..." he moaned, attempting to crawl his way up a stool. "Fooooooood..."</s>	<\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "...Y'sure 'bout that, mister?" Rimau asked, quizically turning his eyes upward as if to actually look quite worried about his Sheep. Of course it wasn't really that bad; there's lots more Sheep in the world. "...Okay, if y'say so. I do believe we live in a... 'democracy' 'ere." He said, recognising the man's choice as an adult, but at the same time making an 'inverted commas' gesture when he said 'democracy'; something of a foreign and kind of silly concept to the old Zizz. "Jus' remember, if that big-ass canid starts a lil' bloodbath at y'pasture, you come an' see me." The Zizz concluded with confidence that this would not be the last Felan heard about this, taking another puff into Felan's big, humourless face before he pulled his chair away, clambering back to the floor. "'Ave a superb day, mister." Soon after that was over with, he found himself turning back to witness that other old guy at the bar, the one that always complained about literally everything. Seemed like he was doing some kind of ritual dance, going 'wowowowow' like some kind a... he didn't even know what. "What in Gekko's name... pffffftthehehehe!" He muttered in response, causing him to clinch his gut in his stifled laughter as he walked over to the bar again, coughing as he approached another barstool. Clambering back up to the bar, he noticed the Rodent was still there, still making himself look like a fool, it seemed. Even better, Naida had returned, though she was still talking with that dog-eared kid. "'Ey, Naida, m'lady, y'back!" He said pleasantly, putting on his toothy grin again. "Terribly sorry for the ramblin' again, but I still 'aven't 'ad m'juice. But no rush. By th'way, what in th'ell was up w'that dumb-ass back there, the one with th'big-ass compensator sword?" He asked, pointing towards said dumb-ass, who for some reason was still standing even after the crazy cat lady had yelled at him. From what he had gathered, when the crazy cat lady got mad, she tended to hurt people. Then again... newfangled suppression field.</s>
<\|description\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Race: Zizz (Human-sized Bipedal Lizards, leaning more towards Lizard than Human; think Dinolfos, as opposed to Argonian ) Gender: Male Age: 303 Occupation: Hunter, Tracker and occasional Mercenary. Personality/Interests: Rimau has a rather mercenary approach to life, who desires nothing more than an easygoing job that pays well; preferably one that makes use of his prime talent of 'shooting things'. He's actually quite friendly and chatty if you can get him going, though he has a rather dark sense of humour; he's the sort of fellow who finds flailing burn victims kind of funny, especially if he caused it. Though he can easily come across as cranky and senile (he has a habit of rambling incessantly and ranting about random things), he's actually quite intelligent, at least on a tactical level. Appearance Details: Body build: Possesses a rather lean musculature; is quite fit for his age, but that's not saying much. Hair: What sort of Lizard has hair? Hair colour: See above. Skin colour: Dull, dark green. Can appear quite cracked and dry in places due to his age. Eye colour: Orange. Height/Weight: About 5'0'', but appears shorter since he's usually hunched over. Quite light. Notable Features: Has about four 'whiskers' coming off his chin and jaw that resemble a beard. Also has two bullet scars on his chest, near his heart. Clothing Description: His dress sense could be best described as 'eccentric'. Despite not being an aviator at all, he wears a black leather aviator hat with accompanying goggles, with a set of colourful feathers stitched to the side. He also wears a matching fur-lined leather vest (with the head of a mechanical dinosaur and the words 'Gekko Gras Muriak' stitched to the back), and a bandolier for holding bullets. Aside from this, the rest of him is bare; after all, his kind needs a lot of space to absorb heat. He doesn't have any visible 'equipment', either. Equipment: He has a belt on which he carries assorted items necessary to make his special ammo, such as gunpowder for explosive hollow-point ammo, oil for incendiary ammo, and so on. Of course, these supplies are limited. Weapon(s): His weapon of choice is a Repeating Revolver Rifle affectionately dubbed 'Skrin-Ko' ('Smart' in Zizz language). Like most Zizz technology, it is utilitarian in appearance and made of blackened metal and darkened wood (sort of like this), and has a custom scope attached to the top (made from an old telescope). He also has a machete with a splintered handle, which he uses more as a tool than anything else. Powers: Nothing here. Born on the same level as the rest of his kind. Abilities: As a Zizz, he possesses a tough, scaly hide that is considerably harder to penetrate than human skin. He also has an enhanced sense of smell (from his tongue) and sight, which is particularly useful for his line of work. The Zizz also have the ability to heal from injuries faster than other species, though due to his age it takes over a week at least, and he can no longer grow back entire limbs or anything similarly major. Talents: Crack shot with a Rifle. Has shot people from a mile-and-a-half away (or 2.414 kilometres). He is also something of a handyman; besides repairing Skrin-Ko, he can also jury-rig his own ammo and construct and place an assortment of traps (such as Bear Claws, Trip Mines and anything else he can think of), provided he has the right materials, of course. Magic: While he has no magic of his own, he once hired an enchanter to magically bind Skrin-Ko to him; this means that no-one can fire the Rifle but him. His machete is fair game, however. Miscellaneous Notes: His name, 'Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku', translates to 'Rimau, son of Rimau, times twelve'. It's not his full name. Due to the nature of his work, he often takes medicine to keep him awake for extremely long periods of time. As a consequence, when he's not working, he is something of a heavy sleeper. He prefers warm, sunny, dry climates. He becomes infinitely more grouchy in cold or wet environments. He particularly enjoys smoking various herbal substances with a pipe. Keeps him calm and alert. Sessamaru: "Nice kid. He ain't gonna get far if he don't get more realistic about the ol' warfare, though. Plus, he eats like a Pig." Historia: "Textbook youngster; friendly, wants to travel, real naïve... she'd better shape up or she'll end up a Sunday roast, heh." Saha: "Boy, I'd love to hang her picture on the wall." Katelia: "I like this girl... she ain't got an ounce o' hospitality in her, but fun to watch. Remember to not shoot her cat." Julio: cough cough "Whaddya mean that's a guy?!" Azzrix: "I can't believe the Rodent ain't been put on the choppin' block yet. What kinda thief acts like this?!" Margaret: "I see a bit o' myself in this lady... but she's got a long way to go before she can shoot with the best of 'em. Even with that fancy Crossbow." Naida: "Well, if it ain't my favourite Sprite bartender? I dunno if there's a cocktail she can't make!" Drubbins: "Most Ogre dumb-asses ain't good for much besides easy target practice. This guy... he's somethin' else." Mysaren: "Somethin' ain't right about this kid. She's nice, but... nah, probably nothin'." Tahira: "Not bad, but a bit lackin' in humour, when all's said an' done. I don't think I've ever seen her laugh!" Claire: "Never 'eard of 'er. Is she a looker?" Viggo: "Boy, lemme tell ya... Blunderbuss next to the ear drum? That's frickin' Opera compared to the drivel this kid calls music!" Rouen: "This dumb-ass is pretty funny to listen to. 'Specially his precious Dukedom. The pinnacle of order, huh? Yeah, it's a frickin' circus compared to Tarzblik, kiddo." Felan (Human): "I dunno 'bout this kid. He ain't a dumb-ass, but he ain't exactly fond of hunters, either." Felan (Wolf):"I ain't never seen a dog that big. I'll have to clear some space if I wanted to mount his head on the wall."</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix heard their responses and was slightly disappointed that Mysaren wasn't interested in going on missions with him yet, but he decided that he would have to wait for some other time. Azzrix excused himself to go look at the mission board and then he overheard Naida talking about a mission to find the daughter of a patron to the tavern who had gone missing. Azzrix also heard her mention the possibility of the patron being rich and he became even more interested. He then noticed a commotion going on in the kitchen and saw the weird dog like man run out with a pot of stew with the cooks screaming at him as he fled. Azzrix shook his head at the foolishness of the man, he would make a terrible thief if that's what he thought was worth stealing. Azzrix was interested in the mission so he followed them to wherever they were headed. He decided to follow Naida and soon saw that she was headed back to her home. Azzrix thought that it would be best to quickly go get his things. He quickly headed back to the place where he was staying to get his things and change his clothes. Once in his room he put on his darker robes and traveling cloak which were his thieving clothes when he wasn't robbing people in plain sight. Azzrix attached his rapier and Parrying Dagger to his belt and got his throwing knives and hand crossbow. Once he got the arrows for his crossbow Azzrix left his home and went look for Naida. He eventually found her waiting around and walked up to her calmly. "If you don't mind I would like to partake in this mission, a person with my kind of talents would be a great asset on a mission like this" he said to her with a polite tone to his voice.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "If y'say so, m'good... person." Rimau said after listening to what the Priest had to say, still unsure over what pronouns to use. He scratched his head as the Priest's words came tumbling into his mind, and back out again. 'Heh... poor kid.' He thought, remembering the standards of life set for him and the rest of his kind. 'Where I come from, people who try an' see the light usually end up makin' a bloody mess of 'emselves on the streets, heheh.' He was about to shake his hand, until his attention was stolen by the big-pauldron dumbass. The Zizz squinted at that man with suspicion for a good while, listening in on his words. He didn't say that much, but he had a blank expression of purpose on his face, something Rimau was all too familiar with, to the point of it seemingly transcending the racial boundaries. It was the sort of expression made by a dedicated servant. A loyal attack dog. There was something about him that Rimau just didn't like, beyond simply looking ridiculous with his oversized equipment. Rimau decided to turn away from him until he walked away from the nearby mission board, slapping the side of his head. He was worrying too much. Once he was out the way, Rimau took the opportunity to leave a coin on the bar (with the face of someone he didn't recognise on it) and turn his head around to inspect the board; his eyesight enabled him to see what was on the papers without having to clamber down and navigate the masses again; it wasn't that far away, anyways. "Well now, what do we 'ave 'ere?" He muttered to himself as he took a look, scratching the side of his chin. There were a few jobs in the city, which weren't really his thing; he'd seen enough of urban warfare in his time, and none of them seemed suited to his skillset anyway. Ignoring the fetch-quests, there were a couple of jobs offered by some local noblemen. They both demanded the return of something, that something having been stolen from them. One of them, a golden mask, and the other, his daughter. The rescue mission seemed easier, with the tribe responsible for the kidnapping in open territory, but Rimau was never one for babysitting spoilt princess-types. Plus, if he knew human nobility, they'd pay a lot more for a trinket than for their trophy daughters. Tough decision.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren stood to stretch, noticing the mission board cleared up a bit. Fine, she'd go look. She waltzed over, to looking at the papers curiously. She noticed a specific mission, one about a thief and a golden mask. Seemed easy enough, and returning something that expensive had to have a good reward for it. She grabbed the paper, looking at it curiously before smiling. Yeah, she could do this. She needed someone to do it with though, she knew that. As helpful as necromancy was, it wasn't exactly the most useful of powers in combat. Talking with the dead and raising them to fight for her was great, and bodies were kinda plentiful around these parts, but it required a lot of energy, and she wasn't the best of controlling them. She felt someone staring at her, and she turned, her eyes darting to the lizard guy. Oh yeah, that ass. Well, maybe he was nice, just a bit rude in the "don't blow smoke all around the tavern." department. Was he looking at her, or... Surely his eyesight couldn't be that good? She didn't really know anything about whatever species he was, besides, well, they were obviously rather large lizards.</s>	<\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau was about to look further into the job about the golden mask when the paper was suddenly taken off the board by some kid in fancy robes. He attempted to position himself in such a manner that he could continue reading, but no such luck; the kid was simply too big for him to not obscure Rimau's vision. He screwed up his face and grumbled for a brief moment. Alas, if he could see through solid objects, not only would he be the world's greatest marksman, without a doubt, but this sort of annoyance wouldn't happen. Soon, however, the kid suddenly turned around and looked Rimau directly in the eyes, the invisible 'force' of which prompted Rimau's own eyes to widen and his the line that was his mouth to upturn in a more friendly manner. It was then he realised something; the kid was actually a woman. A square-jawed woman, sure, but still a woman. Those were some thick robes. The sort of robes Rimau would die in if he wore them. Deciding that you can always get more done in life if you're nice to people, Rimau decided to clamber down off of his stool and make his way over to the lady; as fun as it was to keep rivalries, most of the time it tended to be impractical and juvenile to insist on a professional rivalry with a specific individual, especially if the job was well-paying. Merely competing with other mercs and hunters was a fact of business. But 'sportsmanlike' rivalry? Laughable. "Heyo there, kid. Couldn't 'elp but notice y'took down that mighty interestin' job proposition off the wall. ...Can't say I've seen y'round 'ere before, either." He said as he approached the lady, that weird muffle effect the Tavern seemed to have turning on. He stopped to look her over, see if she was the trustworthy type. She was certainly a lot taller than she looked, even taller than most humans he'd seen, who all tended to be taller than Rimau anyway. Made them easier to target. Raising one brow, he looked over her scars; clearly, she had experience with fighting, then. You don't get the sorts of scars on her face from cutting yourself while shaving... not that she'd need to shave, but still. Her attire seemed to suggest a magic user; magic and him didn't get along too well, but its practitioners had their uses. Their flashy tricks were very distracting for most people, and Skrin'Ko was indeed bound to him by an enchantier. Very nice fellow, he was. After a few seconds, Rimau decided he may as well introduce himself; after all, a name doesn't convey much. But he kept his hands close to his body, in case she was the twitchy kind. "...Th'name's Rimau. Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku, but that's, uh... well, y'don't wanna know m'full name. Believe me, some'un once asked for it, an' lemme tell ya... uh, never mind. What's your name, kid?" He asked, smiling a little.</s>
<\|description\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Race: Zizz (Human-sized Bipedal Lizards, leaning more towards Lizard than Human; think Dinolfos, as opposed to Argonian ) Gender: Male Age: 303 Occupation: Hunter, Tracker and occasional Mercenary. Personality/Interests: Rimau has a rather mercenary approach to life, who desires nothing more than an easygoing job that pays well; preferably one that makes use of his prime talent of 'shooting things'. He's actually quite friendly and chatty if you can get him going, though he has a rather dark sense of humour; he's the sort of fellow who finds flailing burn victims kind of funny, especially if he caused it. Though he can easily come across as cranky and senile (he has a habit of rambling incessantly and ranting about random things), he's actually quite intelligent, at least on a tactical level. Appearance Details: Body build: Possesses a rather lean musculature; is quite fit for his age, but that's not saying much. Hair: What sort of Lizard has hair? Hair colour: See above. Skin colour: Dull, dark green. Can appear quite cracked and dry in places due to his age. Eye colour: Orange. Height/Weight: About 5'0'', but appears shorter since he's usually hunched over. Quite light. Notable Features: Has about four 'whiskers' coming off his chin and jaw that resemble a beard. Also has two bullet scars on his chest, near his heart. Clothing Description: His dress sense could be best described as 'eccentric'. Despite not being an aviator at all, he wears a black leather aviator hat with accompanying goggles, with a set of colourful feathers stitched to the side. He also wears a matching fur-lined leather vest (with the head of a mechanical dinosaur and the words 'Gekko Gras Muriak' stitched to the back), and a bandolier for holding bullets. Aside from this, the rest of him is bare; after all, his kind needs a lot of space to absorb heat. He doesn't have any visible 'equipment', either. Equipment: He has a belt on which he carries assorted items necessary to make his special ammo, such as gunpowder for explosive hollow-point ammo, oil for incendiary ammo, and so on. Of course, these supplies are limited. Weapon(s): His weapon of choice is a Repeating Revolver Rifle affectionately dubbed 'Skrin-Ko' ('Smart' in Zizz language). Like most Zizz technology, it is utilitarian in appearance and made of blackened metal and darkened wood (sort of like this), and has a custom scope attached to the top (made from an old telescope). He also has a machete with a splintered handle, which he uses more as a tool than anything else. Powers: Nothing here. Born on the same level as the rest of his kind. Abilities: As a Zizz, he possesses a tough, scaly hide that is considerably harder to penetrate than human skin. He also has an enhanced sense of smell (from his tongue) and sight, which is particularly useful for his line of work. The Zizz also have the ability to heal from injuries faster than other species, though due to his age it takes over a week at least, and he can no longer grow back entire limbs or anything similarly major. Talents: Crack shot with a Rifle. Has shot people from a mile-and-a-half away (or 2.414 kilometres). He is also something of a handyman; besides repairing Skrin-Ko, he can also jury-rig his own ammo and construct and place an assortment of traps (such as Bear Claws, Trip Mines and anything else he can think of), provided he has the right materials, of course. Magic: While he has no magic of his own, he once hired an enchanter to magically bind Skrin-Ko to him; this means that no-one can fire the Rifle but him. His machete is fair game, however. Miscellaneous Notes: His name, 'Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku', translates to 'Rimau, son of Rimau, times twelve'. It's not his full name. Due to the nature of his work, he often takes medicine to keep him awake for extremely long periods of time. As a consequence, when he's not working, he is something of a heavy sleeper. He prefers warm, sunny, dry climates. He becomes infinitely more grouchy in cold or wet environments. He particularly enjoys smoking various herbal substances with a pipe. Keeps him calm and alert. Sessamaru: "Nice kid. He ain't gonna get far if he don't get more realistic about the ol' warfare, though. Plus, he eats like a Pig." Historia: "Textbook youngster; friendly, wants to travel, real naïve... she'd better shape up or she'll end up a Sunday roast, heh." Saha: "Boy, I'd love to hang her picture on the wall." Katelia: "I like this girl... she ain't got an ounce o' hospitality in her, but fun to watch. Remember to not shoot her cat." Julio: cough cough "Whaddya mean that's a guy?!" Azzrix: "I can't believe the Rodent ain't been put on the choppin' block yet. What kinda thief acts like this?!" Margaret: "I see a bit o' myself in this lady... but she's got a long way to go before she can shoot with the best of 'em. Even with that fancy Crossbow." Naida: "Well, if it ain't my favourite Sprite bartender? I dunno if there's a cocktail she can't make!" Drubbins: "Most Ogre dumb-asses ain't good for much besides easy target practice. This guy... he's somethin' else." Mysaren: "Somethin' ain't right about this kid. She's nice, but... nah, probably nothin'." Tahira: "Not bad, but a bit lackin' in humour, when all's said an' done. I don't think I've ever seen her laugh!" Claire: "Never 'eard of 'er. Is she a looker?" Viggo: "Boy, lemme tell ya... Blunderbuss next to the ear drum? That's frickin' Opera compared to the drivel this kid calls music!" Rouen: "This dumb-ass is pretty funny to listen to. 'Specially his precious Dukedom. The pinnacle of order, huh? Yeah, it's a frickin' circus compared to Tarzblik, kiddo." Felan (Human): "I dunno 'bout this kid. He ain't a dumb-ass, but he ain't exactly fond of hunters, either." Felan (Wolf):"I ain't never seen a dog that big. I'll have to clear some space if I wanted to mount his head on the wall."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire trailed after Historia to the board. She wasn't even going to pretend to read the board, once the paper was presented to her she looked it over once. She could put together...the word 'book' but that's all she could manage. "Uh..." she tried not to frown. Her cheeks were a tad pink. "Would you...explain it to me?" She gave a pleading look to her partner. She was sure that whatever they were being set out to do, she could handle it. Though she didn't want to sign up for anything she disliked or disagreed with. Of course with the person suggesting it, anything shady was likely not an option. Still, pretending to know something wen you don't is a lie, and lie's are wrong. "I..." She wanted to pick a word to explain her lack of knowledge. She struggled, nothing was coming to mind that she could...bear to say aloud. She gave small looks to people around her. She didn't want to admit her faults in such a public place. Admitting to someone she just met was a bit much already... "I would appreciate it..." she decided, her comment almost a hush.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia looked at her, confused for a moment, until she pieced it together. "Oh! sure!" Historia said, not even going to try and ask if her suspicions about why Miss Claire was asking her to read it were true. It looked like it made Miss Claire to embarrassed to tell Historia anyhow. "So basically, there's this elderly nobleman. He had a memory book, of his life I presume, and has lost it. This quest page doesn't give out too much information, so I can't really say how easy or how safe this quest will be, but seeing how a memory book only has sentimental value, not tangible value, I don't imagine we'd be fighting any thiefs. Overall, it sounds like something reality simple, pretty safe, and has the possiblity of a good reward to spilt between the two of us." Historia told her. In a more hushed voice, Historia leaned towards Miss Claire a bit, and added, "And um...if you ever need help with...anything like this again, and I'm near by, I'd be happy to help." She gave her a surrporting smile.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins Drubbins trundled up to the job board, holding one platter of pancakes in his hand and just picking them up and plopping them, whole, in his mouth. It was right nice of that bloke to clear up that confusion and but him all these pancakes. He liked that bloke. While he'd been eating, though, it looked like one of the bosses underlings had put some real jobs up on that board. He reached over and ripped one down, then held it up over his head. This had worked before, so he called out. "OI! Who 'ere can read?"</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur It had been half a day since Rouen left the tavern. He walked down a dirt path deep inside a forest. A small piece of paper was folded up in his right hand. To his right he heard the steady of trickle of water from the river flowing parallel to the trail and the wind whooshing past his face. That however, was all he hard besides the soft scrunch of dry leaves against his boots. "This is strange. No sound of any birds or wildlife. I don't even hear a gadfly. What is going on in this forest?" he wondered. His swiveled his head looking at the eerily empty forest. In the horizon, Rouen could see the setting sun slowly retreating behind the mountains. Soon the orange light would fade and darkness would descend. "Whatever, I'm almost there," he thought and unfolded the paper. It had drawings of landmarks and trails in the nearby area. Land Navigation and creating rough maps was one of the basic skills he learned in his time as a squire. He had been in the area for a few weeks and took the time to mark some terrain features. "Now if I'm right this cave should be a hundred imperial units from where this river ends," he thought. An imperial unit was a hallmark from the days of Deardmadtha rule. Rouen begrudgingly acknowledged that a standard of measurement was one of the few good things that resulted from their empire. He looked ahead and saw a pond that the river poured into. A beaten path could be seen through the brush. "Well, at least I know where this cave is," he thought. "And it probably isn't abandoned." Rouen folded the paper and put it in his satchel. He pulled a stick with some rags wrapped around it on one end. Removing a glove, he let one finger near the wrapped end of the makeshift torch. Small sparks arced from his finger to the cloth, causing it to smoke and then burst into flame. New light lit up the area around Rouen. " Let us see what haunts these woods," he thought putting his glove back on and holding the torch up high. He walked down the beaten path with the lit torch. The sun finally disappeared behind the horizon and nightfall descended onto the forest.</s>	<\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau's expression turned a little uneasy when Mysaren started talking about the transportation, or lack thereof. Don't get him wrong, Rimau was not lazy at all, no matter what the macho sword-swinging types said. It was just the weather he was worried about. It might make him act erratically, a thought that was enough to distract him from Mysaren's comment on his little joke. Or maybe it instead distracted her from his uneasiness. "Alright, well... walkin' it is, I s'pose." He conceded, rubbed the back of his neck. Sure, she mentioned she could find something else, but what were the chances? Horses didn't really like the old lizard, anyway, they always got worked up around him for some reason. Three-hundred-and-three years old and he still hadn't figured out why. "I should confess, I ain't too big on mountains an' such." He said with added honesty. "Too cold. An' us Zizz, we get real pissy when it ain't warm an' dry. It ain't nothin' personal if I start criticisin' life itself, heheh. Sooner we get t'where these dumbasses are, th'better, wouldn'tya say?" He finalised, restoring his previous optimism. Rightly so, of course. Between him and this lady, he was sure that these dumbasses would stand no chance. Even if she wasn't that good. Placing his now-empty Pipe back in its place on his belt, Rimau walked across the wooden floor, now a bit clearer, and poked his long neck out the window. He coughed slightly, since it felt like he stuck his head into a bowl of dirt and tumbling rocks once it was out the window. Even though the city looked quite clean compared to the Tavern... another weird thing. It also seemed a lot brighter outside when inside, but when actually outside Rimau noticed it was overcast for the first time. "Well, I'm guessin' that's the mountain range..." He said, pointing at said mountains visible to east, just over the town walls, and waving for Mysaren to observe with his other hand. "...Considerin' it's the only damn mountain range in sight an' all. Whad'you think?"</s>
<\|description\|>Saha Thulaja Era Race: Naga Gender: Female Age: 28 Occupation: Wanderer/Mercenary Personality/Interests Does whatever it takes to accomplish the goal. Conquering. Still calibrating her moral compass. Is protective of herself and puts herself first as her species is wont to do when they're single. Solemn, wary of strangers. Jovial among friends. Nagas are immune to alcohol, so Saha has never been drunk, but she does drink a large amount and pretend like she is. Lust rather than love at her young age, swings both ways. Loves music, a good dancer. Not a fan of vegetables. Animals, esp prey types, don't warm up to her easily. Appearance Details Body build: Fit, very toned Hair: Long, to chest; tied up Hair color: Black Skin color: Tan Eye/Iris color: Yellow eyes with round black pupils Height/Weight: 5'10" i.e 178cm, 154lbs i.e 70kg Notable Features: Her skin is lightly scaled and feels a little cold and snake-y to the touch. It is shed twice a year in seclusion. She has small sharp teeth and two dangerous fangs that eject venom, although her tongue and jaws are like a regular human's and she speaks without sibilant. Wears a cloak and hood generally for many species don't seem welcoming of her kind. Eats a large amount when she can and can go on without food or water for a longer period of time than humans. Clothing Description Light armor. Equipment (More) healing and (less) mana potions. Astika's Bracelet: charmed and bound to her arm for a one-time use to heal a deathly injury. Weapon(s) A well-made steel blade and a dagger. Powers (Innate talents that are "abnormal" and not considered to be "magical") Venomous fangs that inject neurotoxins and cause severe pain, blurred vision, vertigo, drowsiness, paralysis and coma; can spit the venom too for lesser effects; using their fangs in a fight is considered undignified and shameful for a Naga warrior but it's fine to coat their swords in their own venom. Abilities (Traits commonly found in only your race) High dexterity and reflexive speed. Nagas have normal eyesight like a human but are better at sensing movements near or far. In battle, in addition to their vision, they breathe through their mouths to rely on their Jacobson's organ that gives them a sharper and more instantaneous idea of the situation. Longevity: 200-300 years of living, and so age slower and heal faster than a human. They tend to begin settling down in the later half of their first century. Talents (Natural strengths developed by years of training) Close combat. Stealth. Saha is more patient with and approachable to animals than most other Nagas. She spent a lot of time in the forests learning how to make herself likeable to them when she lived with her parents. Magic (What school(s) of magic are you trained in?; if applicable) Nature magic: starting a fire, etc for basic survivalism; moving the earth, grass, whipping up the wind etc, all to surprise, destabilise and give her an edge over the enemy in battle. Impressions Sess - "A great warrior, but his strict altruism might be his downfall." Historia - "A small flying human with a pair of strange contraptions for her eyes." Katelia - "She must have incredible stories to tell, and I am curious about the pet, Hel." Julio - "I will need his healing skills later on. I must not insult his angelic heritage." Azzrix - "scoffs a rat." Margaret - "An interesting woman of the cold. Beware." Naida - "Attractive." Drubbins - "Amusing. Perhaps I can become his new Da Boss." Mysaren - "Approach cautiously, pry open with beer." Tahira - "I can learn about the world from her." Rimau - "with distaste a lizard. I might have to swallow my pride when I need something from him." Claire - "A fellow warrior." Viggo - "A musician! with a strangely attractive scent about him." Rouen - "A fanatic human warrior. Guard up." Felan - "A Nature man. We might get along."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nearly dropped her fork when the music she had mostly ignored took a new turn. She felt a little...different. Restless? Not possible...she just spend a night in an alley, sleep hadn't been good. The same clenching feeling was clasping her chest. Magic? Was it the musician? She gave a searching look for the sound. Through the smoke, the many moving bodies and other obstructions, they barely caught the man thrashing about. Interesting, annoying, angering. A shaky sigh left the small woman. As if to calm her, her winged partner began to speak once more. Sharing pieces of her past and who she was. In turn, the third party of the trio gave her piece. A bit more to the point, a bit less informative. Not so jumpy anymore apparently? "...I'm afraid I have to agree with her Historia dear...Sometimes your past is to be...retained." She thought for a moment. "Though It doesn't seem you have anything to hide, which is quite..." She searched for a word. "Magical..." she decided. Her voice trailed off at that last word. Her tone was, sad, almost, but perhaps more so it seemed to be...longing. Perhaps envious. She tried to give a smile to accompany the word, but it didn't really find it's way out. "Thank you for sharing." She added softly. "Both of you..." She realized she had hardly addressed the other girl. Perhaps she should be making some effort to do so...</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan sat quietly at his table as he waited, looking around at the patrons inside the tavern. There were a few new faces, but most he'd seen before. The girl that stayed here often, her name escaped him, was roaming about with her leopard. Felan was impressed by the creature. He had slightly embarrassed himself upon seeing it for the first time, having assumed it was a fellow skin changer. Obviously, that was not the case. He noticed an ogre was among the people bustling around, and Felan's lip curled slightly. He didn't care much for their kind, having had not-so-good experiences with them in the past. Of course, as long as the creature didn't act up, he wouldn't purposely cross paths with him. Another patron caught his eyes: a younger man casting magic on another customer. Felan watched, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Magic was not his forte. He didn't do it, didn't like it, and typically tried to avoid it. Before long, Naida swung by to take his order. Of course he just wanted his regular; Felan was a man of habit. Soon, it was on a plate in front of him: a juicy cut of meat, cooked very rare, and a glass of ale. His large hands fumbled with the eating utensils as he attempted to cut his food up. When at home, he wouldn't even bother. But in public, Felan made an attempt to appear remotely civilized.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia quietly listened to the advice Miss Mysaren shared with her, noticing that Miss Claire was also in agreement. Historia smiled at the both of them cheerfully. "I don't quite believe I gave that much away." She told them. "Anybody with any knowledge of the Anemoi islands would know that's where I hail from. It's the only place that I know of where you can find my race. My name is my name, I would have to be really in trouble if I was trying to hide it. And for what else I told you, it's what happened a week ago in this very Tavern, and there's not much there to use against me, but I do appreciate the advice. There's not a lot of people here that be so kind to do that." Plus...if they really wanted dirt on Historia...well, her wings were more than enough really to a specific few. She paused a moment, wondering if perhaps anyone was looking for her. She really hadn't thought of it till now... Historia was pulled from her thoughts when Miss Claire said that it didn't seem like Historia had anything to hide and that was magical. "Ah, thank you Miss Claire." Historia told her, smiling even brighter. "But if I'm to refrain from speaking of my past, we should perhaps find something else to talk about...it'll hopefully take my mind off the music that currently playing." She told them with a hint of annoyance. Historia had no problem with the music itself. It was the spell that went with it. Not that Historia had any problems with magic either (though it wasn't till recently that she had even first got exposed to magic in general), but she didn't like for spells to be casted on her without her permission. This spell in particular made her wings twitch, like she should just get up and fly right out of the Tavern and into the wild blue yonder. Which would not have been a good plan as she did not have the funds to leave yet. "So," Historia said, pulling up her googles to rub her eyes, trying to be less annoyed as annoyance could lead to poor judgement. "Is there anything you two would like to discuss?"</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren The music playing was magic, Mysaren could tell that much. At least, it made her feel irrationally... angry. Courageous. She wanted to fight and argue against almost everyone near her. She swallowed her anger and clenched her fists, gritting her teeth impatiently. She wanted to bash in the head of that idiot that was playing the music that made her feel weird, she wanted to fight the orc that was standing across the room, she wanted to use her sword on the useless rat beside her that was blowing smoke all over the place. She had the courage to do it now, but didn't, she resisted her urges. Who let this moron play music like this in a tavern? Mysaren let a grin tug at the side of her mouth as she listened to Historia, shaking her head slightly. "Sorry for uhm, the advice, Historia," She said, letting her dark blue eyes scan over Historia again. She wished she could be like that, naive and carefree. "It's just that, well, where I come from, telling people hopes and dreams is kinda a death wish. I didn't mean to offend you, of course." She still didn't feel comfortable telling anyone where she was from, but her accent probably clued them in that she wasn't from around these parts. "Not much. I would like to know where maybe I could sell a few family heirlooms. " She said. Mysaren was also well aware of how a good lie worked. One, you never added too much detail unless questioned. Too many details, and you look suspicious, it seems to well thought out. Two, you practice, like Mysaren had been for most of her life. She had been to too many cities, met too many people in skeevy taverns and bars to not know how to lie. She didn't like lying anymore, though, but this was a necessary evil, at least to her. She needed money, and no one would want some piss poor necromancer freak to work for them.</s>	<\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era Saha had finished shedding her skin. Dry, delicate, paper-thin pieces of what used to be parts of her lay in a neat pile on the floor: a whole translucent mould of an arm, or an ear, or a toe, was stacked with short and long strips that had fallen off on their own or had been scrapped off with the help of a smooth pebble. She had been cooped up in the small room, cheaply that the wanderer could afford in Blue Tavern, for almost a week. Her body had conserved its energy by lulling her to sleep for days and nights, only to wake when her skin itched, without food or drink; now, recuperated and with vision restored, Saha could feel her mouth parched and cracked lips, her stomach grumbled, although, with a look down and feel of her body, she had hardly lost weight. She folded up the pile in a piece of cloth to be burned in the forest and put on her light armour. The leather felt a little tight and uncomfortable on her soft skin and etched in more when she moved, but she ignored it knowing her body would toughen up in a few days to its usual self. The bedroom tidied, Saha opened the door and stepped out of its enchantment that had been affording her peace and silence and, being sensitive, was struck by the overwhelming odours and aggressive music that had stalked upstairs. Her breathing quickened. There was pipe smoke, rare meat that excited her, strong magic, a multitude of folks from different places, animals, blood and ale - worst of all, she felt stirred to whip out her sword and dance as if she was in a fierce fight. Saha relaxed her grip on the hilt and muttered a spell. A breeze cleared the way and her head. She hurried downstairs, she could feel the bardic influence returning. "Bernard!" she called out with nary a glance at the numerous patrons on her way to the front door. "Six for me please! Rare! Put it on my tab, I'll be back in a bit." The door shut behind her; the guitar was muffled to a quieter sound that let her fully regain control of her senses and Saha found herself interjected into company. "Good morning, Kat and Hel," she greeted, and to the stranger, held her left palm to her chest in accordance to polite Naga custom. "Sorry I had to stay away for a while, I had a private matter that needed my attention." Saha looked at Hel in the eye, as if addressing him, too, as an equal, and continued saying to them both, "I'll be having breakfast soon, with enough to share, perhaps you'd like to join me." Saha excused herself from the trio and walked down the beaten path. The sunlight warmed her skin, a delicious sensation she had missed, and she focused on the fresh air that brought scents of morning dew, grass and dirt from the surrounding forest. It was a short stroll into the woods, the damp ground, brown and green with leaves, under the protection of the tall trees, held an intimacy that felt like home. She found a good spot by a fallen log and stilled with her mouth open to breathe in and sense if there was anyone nearby; then she gathered some twigs and cast a spell to start a fire. The Naga untied the pouch she had been carrying in one hand and carefully laid it on top of the flames. It consumed the gift in whole. "Saha'le arimay aksatelaikum," she gave thanks in her native tongue, for the experiences life had bestowed upon her, for the joys, pains and regrets, for another beginning now was she wiser; then Saha covered the fire with dirt to complete the ritual.</s>
<\|description\|>Saha Thulaja Era Race: Naga Gender: Female Age: 28 Occupation: Wanderer/Mercenary Personality/Interests Does whatever it takes to accomplish the goal. Conquering. Still calibrating her moral compass. Is protective of herself and puts herself first as her species is wont to do when they're single. Solemn, wary of strangers. Jovial among friends. Nagas are immune to alcohol, so Saha has never been drunk, but she does drink a large amount and pretend like she is. Lust rather than love at her young age, swings both ways. Loves music, a good dancer. Not a fan of vegetables. Animals, esp prey types, don't warm up to her easily. Appearance Details Body build: Fit, very toned Hair: Long, to chest; tied up Hair color: Black Skin color: Tan Eye/Iris color: Yellow eyes with round black pupils Height/Weight: 5'10" i.e 178cm, 154lbs i.e 70kg Notable Features: Her skin is lightly scaled and feels a little cold and snake-y to the touch. It is shed twice a year in seclusion. She has small sharp teeth and two dangerous fangs that eject venom, although her tongue and jaws are like a regular human's and she speaks without sibilant. Wears a cloak and hood generally for many species don't seem welcoming of her kind. Eats a large amount when she can and can go on without food or water for a longer period of time than humans. Clothing Description Light armor. Equipment (More) healing and (less) mana potions. Astika's Bracelet: charmed and bound to her arm for a one-time use to heal a deathly injury. Weapon(s) A well-made steel blade and a dagger. Powers (Innate talents that are "abnormal" and not considered to be "magical") Venomous fangs that inject neurotoxins and cause severe pain, blurred vision, vertigo, drowsiness, paralysis and coma; can spit the venom too for lesser effects; using their fangs in a fight is considered undignified and shameful for a Naga warrior but it's fine to coat their swords in their own venom. Abilities (Traits commonly found in only your race) High dexterity and reflexive speed. Nagas have normal eyesight like a human but are better at sensing movements near or far. In battle, in addition to their vision, they breathe through their mouths to rely on their Jacobson's organ that gives them a sharper and more instantaneous idea of the situation. Longevity: 200-300 years of living, and so age slower and heal faster than a human. They tend to begin settling down in the later half of their first century. Talents (Natural strengths developed by years of training) Close combat. Stealth. Saha is more patient with and approachable to animals than most other Nagas. She spent a lot of time in the forests learning how to make herself likeable to them when she lived with her parents. Magic (What school(s) of magic are you trained in?; if applicable) Nature magic: starting a fire, etc for basic survivalism; moving the earth, grass, whipping up the wind etc, all to surprise, destabilise and give her an edge over the enemy in battle. Impressions Sess - "A great warrior, but his strict altruism might be his downfall." Historia - "A small flying human with a pair of strange contraptions for her eyes." Katelia - "She must have incredible stories to tell, and I am curious about the pet, Hel." Julio - "I will need his healing skills later on. I must not insult his angelic heritage." Azzrix - "scoffs a rat." Margaret - "An interesting woman of the cold. Beware." Naida - "Attractive." Drubbins - "Amusing. Perhaps I can become his new Da Boss." Mysaren - "Approach cautiously, pry open with beer." Tahira - "I can learn about the world from her." Rimau - "with distaste a lizard. I might have to swallow my pride when I need something from him." Claire - "A fellow warrior." Viggo - "A musician! with a strangely attractive scent about him." Rouen - "A fanatic human warrior. Guard up." Felan - "A Nature man. We might get along."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nodded along slightly as Historia explained for her. She looked at the page, as if she was gaining the information from there, but she was only listening inventively. After Historia was finished explaining, Claire was about to agree to the mission, but Historia added another comment on the end. Claire's eye twitched when she registered the offer. "I..." She let her mouth hanging open a tiny bit. Searching for a word yet again. "I would like that..." She concluded, replying to both the job offer, and the future assistance. "And...thank you." She added softly. She tried again to give a smile. It was there, though quite faint. "Shall we...leave soon?" She gestured towards the door. She didn't have anything else to do, other than pick up her bag. If she was working alone she would have been on the road already, though she did tend to jump ahead when it came to acting and not thinking.</s> <\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era [timeskip; after breakfast] Several of the patrons left the Tavern in pursuit of missions the Priest had put up. Saha left her seat at the table to read the list of jobs available, at a short distance away from the gathered crowd. None interested her, and more importantly, they sounded too dangerous for her current state before she had regained full strength. The Big Guy hollered with a piece of notice that he held in a giant hand. "It said a couple lost their pet dog - a yellow mutt, goes by "Peanut", that's all - to be returned to 8 Bright Avenue, a red house in town. There's a reward, doesn't say how much or what it is." Saha appraised the Big Guy: he looked strong and intimidating, stupid as ogres were, but he seemed nice-natured enough that she could use his strength to serve as protection as well as to get the simple job done. "Do you want to do this mission with me? I think you're just the right bloke for the job," she complimented. "We better bring some food to bait the mutt," she said, from years of experience in trying to get close to animals as a Naga, and ordered a piece of steak to go from Bernard.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Dogs like me." Said Drubbins happily at the snake bloke. He had no idea what Da Boss would want a dog returned to someone, but that was normal. Da Boss asks you to punch down a building you don't ask what's inside. Da Boss wants every slime in the area gathered up and shoved behind the same door, you don't ask why. Da Boss asks you to chop off your hand and let your blood spill into the stone circle, you ask "how much blood would ya like, Boss?" He was also happy to have someone to come with him. Most Bosses didn't trust Drubbins to handle anything more complex than krumping a bloke on his own, and most of them at least sent someone to make sure he'd Krumped the right bloke. He thumped his chest, threw the rest of the pancakes directly into his mouth, and garbled "You point me at dat Peanut and dat 'ouse and I'll do da rest."</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren "Oh, I understand. Uhm, you can borrow my cloak if you want, you know. I don't mind." Even if Rimau was tough, Mysaren didn't want to have to deal with a pissy Zizz all the way up some mountains. She could live without the cloak, being pretty used to the cold. Her cloak was mostly just to disguise herself, make her blend in a bit, but it also helped with self esteem issues. She scratched her arm idly. "I'm not a huge fan of mountains either, of course, but, well, hopefully the reward makes up for it," Maybe she could actually buy some form of transportation, a horse or a cart or something with the prize money. "Besides, a bunch of idiots who decided to hide up in the mountains shouldn't take us that long to dispatch, of course. We'll be out of there in no time." She didn't exactly know that, of course, but bandits and robbers weren't generally the smartest of people, especially if they left enough evidence for them to know where they were hiding, even if it was just a vague area. Mysaren followed Rimau to the door, and frowned when she poked her head out, and turned back in. Inside the tavern looked bright and well lit, sun streaming through the windows, but outside was overcast and dreary. She coughed as she poked her head out, and looked at the mountains Rimau was pointing at. "Yes, that should be it. Hm, doesn't seem too too far away. Even then, there has to be some form of trail up there if the robbers were able to get up there so fast. Hopefully it won't be that hard to find where they're hiding."</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Outside the Blue Moon Naida does not care of Azzrix comes along, but she does care about her share of the reward. Consider that he is a thief, he might wind up cheating them out of their share. But as Sessamaru says that he can come along, she has no argument against it. She begins walking again, looking down at the job. "So it says that the daughter is being held on the island out in the river by the Blue Moon. I know what river they speak of in this job, but I do not know which island. There are three islands on the river." She furrows her brown and looks at Sessamaru. "It doesn't matter anyways if neither of you can swim fast enough to keep up with me. Would either of you like for me to scout ahead see if I can find out which of the islands this poor girl is on?" As she is speaking, she hears the rush of the river and she can't help herself. She rushes toward the sound and stands at the very edge of a cliff that overhangs the water. She stares down at the water, a little bit of fear crossing over her mind. The last time that she had set foot in the water was three years ago, which was the last time that she had seen her father. As soon as she would set foot in the water, he would know that she had come back. But when she doesn't know is if he will come searching for her. She takes a deep breath and smiles back at Sess and the new fellow. That is a risk that she will have to take. She sucks in a little more air and steps off the cliff. There is no point in flapping her wings; the best way to have fun at getting turned into her mermaid form is just to drop into it. The icy cold water splashes up around her and she shivers slightly, but the change is imminent. She feels her legs meld together into one form and her wings shoot down her spine to her legs, enveloping her legs in a bluish silvery glow. Before long, she has a long, bluish silver tail flipping around underneath her. She smiles, unable to contain her joy, and she swims as fast as she can toward the surface, which is well a top of her now. She leaps out of the water like a dolphin, giving an excited whoop as she does. She then lands back in the water and floats on top of the surface, smiling up at Sess and Azzrix. "Come on, you guys! The water is amazing!"</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Well, if we're goin' by the assumption that these dumbasses came from town..." Rimau said, choosing to politely ignore the topic of mountains any further before it became distracting. "...They prob'ly used this road right 'ere." Rimau stepped outside, into the purely natural, gritty air of the outdoors, and 'sweeped' his pointed hand along the road towards the mountains. "...I mean, sure, they mighta been the show-off type an' scaled some walls, but roads tend to be the only viable way up mountains. F'good reason." Rimau proceeded to take a few strides down the cobbled road, in the direction of the mountain gate, and turned back to Mysaren, who he assumed was still inside. "...Unless y'got any other plans, I suggest we get goin'. Uh, no pressure, though. Those dumbasses are prob'ly makin' a mess o' their britches just thinkin' about retribution right now, heheh." With that, Rimau grabbed the sides of his goggles and slid them over his eyes; the sign that he was now in 'work' mode. Which reminded him; 'must remember to take that medicine when we get there. Last thing I need is a repeat o' the last Plat'num troll hunt... geez, maybe I'm gettin' too old f'this. ...Naaaah.' He finalised that line of thought with another devilish grin.</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was glad that the dog-like man was fine with him going with them on their mission and for once it seemed like he didn't have to use a lot of excellent persuasion skills to come along. He now thought of what was to come, if it was a kidnapping that they were dealing with then there was a good chance for combat, which made Azzrix smile a bit as he thought of getting a chance to show off his great swordsmanship. Azzrix listened to Naida explain the layout of the land and upon hearing that they would have to swim to the island he groaned. Azzrix knew how to swim, but he didn't like having to get his thief clothing wet and who knew how deep the river. He didn't voice any objection and after Naida asked she could scout ahead he watched her jump into the water and looked to be having the time of her life. Under different certumstances Azzrix would have laughed, but right now he was being very serious. "Is the water very deep and how far are the islands? I don't fancy drowning today" he replied to her, hesitant to jump into the water.</s>	<\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era "You're a good right bloke, aren't 'cha?" Saha said in a saccharine tone, like she had found small animals responded better to a higher pitched, pleasant sound. "You'll make the Boss very happy when you've completed the mission. You'll split the rewards with me, yes?" She had to make sure the ogre knew what the deal was, for Bernard, the Priest or the couple might not care who got the reward as long as it was given out. Saha was in no mood to fight with the dumb Big Guy over some monies. She took the wrapped up steak and headed out of the Tavern. The sky had darkened considerably. The town wasn't faraway, its rows of short buildings and chimney smoke could be seen from a distance, and without a need to hurry too much, Saha strolled down the path with an appreciation for the humidity. When her partner had caught up to her, she said, "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. I am Saha of the Era tribe. What's your story, Big Guy?"</s>
<\|description\|>Saha Thulaja Era Race: Naga Gender: Female Age: 28 Occupation: Wanderer/Mercenary Personality/Interests Does whatever it takes to accomplish the goal. Conquering. Still calibrating her moral compass. Is protective of herself and puts herself first as her species is wont to do when they're single. Solemn, wary of strangers. Jovial among friends. Nagas are immune to alcohol, so Saha has never been drunk, but she does drink a large amount and pretend like she is. Lust rather than love at her young age, swings both ways. Loves music, a good dancer. Not a fan of vegetables. Animals, esp prey types, don't warm up to her easily. Appearance Details Body build: Fit, very toned Hair: Long, to chest; tied up Hair color: Black Skin color: Tan Eye/Iris color: Yellow eyes with round black pupils Height/Weight: 5'10" i.e 178cm, 154lbs i.e 70kg Notable Features: Her skin is lightly scaled and feels a little cold and snake-y to the touch. It is shed twice a year in seclusion. She has small sharp teeth and two dangerous fangs that eject venom, although her tongue and jaws are like a regular human's and she speaks without sibilant. Wears a cloak and hood generally for many species don't seem welcoming of her kind. Eats a large amount when she can and can go on without food or water for a longer period of time than humans. Clothing Description Light armor. Equipment (More) healing and (less) mana potions. Astika's Bracelet: charmed and bound to her arm for a one-time use to heal a deathly injury. Weapon(s) A well-made steel blade and a dagger. Powers (Innate talents that are "abnormal" and not considered to be "magical") Venomous fangs that inject neurotoxins and cause severe pain, blurred vision, vertigo, drowsiness, paralysis and coma; can spit the venom too for lesser effects; using their fangs in a fight is considered undignified and shameful for a Naga warrior but it's fine to coat their swords in their own venom. Abilities (Traits commonly found in only your race) High dexterity and reflexive speed. Nagas have normal eyesight like a human but are better at sensing movements near or far. In battle, in addition to their vision, they breathe through their mouths to rely on their Jacobson's organ that gives them a sharper and more instantaneous idea of the situation. Longevity: 200-300 years of living, and so age slower and heal faster than a human. They tend to begin settling down in the later half of their first century. Talents (Natural strengths developed by years of training) Close combat. Stealth. Saha is more patient with and approachable to animals than most other Nagas. She spent a lot of time in the forests learning how to make herself likeable to them when she lived with her parents. Magic (What school(s) of magic are you trained in?; if applicable) Nature magic: starting a fire, etc for basic survivalism; moving the earth, grass, whipping up the wind etc, all to surprise, destabilise and give her an edge over the enemy in battle. Impressions Sess - "A great warrior, but his strict altruism might be his downfall." Historia - "A small flying human with a pair of strange contraptions for her eyes." Katelia - "She must have incredible stories to tell, and I am curious about the pet, Hel." Julio - "I will need his healing skills later on. I must not insult his angelic heritage." Azzrix - "scoffs a rat." Margaret - "An interesting woman of the cold. Beware." Naida - "Attractive." Drubbins - "Amusing. Perhaps I can become his new Da Boss." Mysaren - "Approach cautiously, pry open with beer." Tahira - "I can learn about the world from her." Rimau - "with distaste a lizard. I might have to swallow my pride when I need something from him." Claire - "A fellow warrior." Viggo - "A musician! with a strangely attractive scent about him." Rouen - "A fanatic human warrior. Guard up." Felan - "A Nature man. We might get along."</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Well..." Drubbins said shutting down everything else from the effort of remembering. "Don't kno' de island, but I was working fer dis pirate Boss, see, before we was attacked by snake blokes like you. So we get in dis huge scrap, yeah, with de snakes, and one of em puts a spear in Da Bosses head. Dat took da fight right outta us, so dey scooped us all up and took us ta meet da new Boss which was dis huge snake bloke wif, like, lotsa arms, an he tells us dat we gonna be diggin' up dese statues from dis old place. So we go dere and we dig fer a long time and we bring up all dese statues and I was real good at it 'cause they was so big, so Da Boss let me put em up in this, like, big circle. And after dat Da Boss brought us all up and started krumpin' us in front of de statues, but I'm real tough so dey 'ad a hard time of it wit me. Got a thick neck, couldn't choke me like de other boys. So Da Boss comes down and decided to krump me personal like, but den someone screams 'Navy!" and everyfing just starts blowin' up and dese human blokes run up da hill and deres another huge scrap and fink I fell off a cliff." "Woke up on one a dem navy blokes boats, takin' me ta be hanged fer piratin' seeing as how I was now tech-nical-cally de captain." Drubbins finishes. "Never been a captain before. Felt nice." He adds wistfully.</s> <\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era "Are you sure your old boss had many arms?" Saha asked, reserving her instinctive distaste at the idea that the Gruen had harnessed such dark magic that they could physically deform themselves; or more likely than not the dumb ogre recollected wrongly and embellished details in the haziness of his memory. The Era tribe instilled a sense of reverence towards Nature, the basis of their magic, along with the philosophy that there was always a cost to an advantage, and for them, physical strength wasn't their strong suit. "Naga are as different to each other as the stones in the river," she continued. "No two tribes are the same in thinking. If what you say is true, I'm sorry you saw the worst of us." Thunder rumbled; a flash of white lightened the sky near the mountains at a distance. Moments later fat raindrops covered the terrain. Saha was no stranger to living in the wild and was as comfortable in the heat as in water, but she had the sense the rain and possible storm would have the dog scurry into hiding. "8 Bright Avenue should be down this way," she said, hurrying towards the peripheral, residential area of the town. "There's a tavern a few streets from here, maybe we can ask the locals and see if the mutt is scavenging around."</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins Drubbins thudded along behind as the raindrops plinked down on his head. He reached over and held one massive hand over his companions head, so as to shield him from the rain. Smart blokes doing smart thinking on his behalf deserved it. He'd have just started looking around for a dog. He didn't know where anyplace in the city was. This was the benefit of hanging around with someone who could think good, they were full of ideas. "Yeah. More den a bug, and dats more arms den anyfing needs. I get by wifout dat many." Then he started whistling. He wasn't very good at it on account of his large underbite, but the guy that taught him hadn't had any lips. He knew that dogs liked whistling.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau looked back at the corpse again, with a look of danger on his face. He had to do something. Just to be on the safe side. Not that he couldn't handle a single zombie, but it'd be far more convenient to deal with it before it got to its feet. "...Better safe than sorry, y'know." Having verbally established that, he walked back over to the corpse, removed his machete from his belt and proceeded to stab the dead robber in the skull, destroying the brain inside. At the very least, he'd heard that a zombie with no brain was just a shuffling moron. "Sorry 'bout that..." He stated apologetically, as he strenuously withdrew the giant knife from the man's head, allowing out-of-date blood to spew out in places. "...'Bout those Pyramid rocks..." He paused once again to grunt as he finally removed the knife, having had to acquire support by placing one foot on the man's neck. He coughed, cleaning the blade on the man's clothes. He doubted that he'd take them with him to whatever afterlife he believed in. "...I kinda meant I heard o' Pyramid rocks before. One o' those ol' bits o' junk left lyin' around by ancient civilisations or somethin'. Eroded an' whatnot." The old lizard scratched the back of his neck before finally setting himself back on course in a very nonchalant fashion, acting as if he hadn't just stabbed a dead guy in the head. No vomit or nothing. "...S'pose I could jus' be imaginin' things, though. Anyways, I reckon we're gettin' close t'the base o' the mountains. Those dumbasses are probably in the valley. If they can't move a frickin' golden mask up walls, I doubt they're the outdoorsy kind."</s> <\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era His giant hand roofed her from the rain. It sheltered almost the width of her, so that only the sides of her arms and clothing were splattered by drops. Saha looked up at the ogre, whose long and thick limbs lumbered in small steps so as to match her pace. She was a little touched by his kind and strangely thoughtful gestures and realised that, like herself, neither his appearance nor race was a good summary of who he was. "Thank you for doing that," she said, pointing at his hand above her head in case he missed the message. They were close to the tavern when he whistled suddenly; she flinched and pressed her fingers to her ears. The sound was loud and piercing without any sense of a melody. It was a jargon of notes, discordant and uncomfortable. She was surprised to feel a bare trace of magic, from an ogre no less, that tried and failed to pull her into its ugly embrace. The noise travelled the distance; within moments, howls and barks chorused in reply. Villagers shouted at their dogs for silence. Doors and gates were clawed. Saha felt the air tremble: a horde of dogs from all directions rushed at them. They were surrounded by by dozens of excited yelps and whines and panting and wagging, although a few at the outer rim of the group snarled at Saha. The closest sniffed at her waist, nudged their noses into her sides - she tried to push them away - and took off with the packet of meat that was quickly devoured. She stood hemmed in by warm furry eager dogs: seven or eight of them were in varying shades of yellow. "Peanut?" she asked. "PEANUT!" They milled jovially.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "'Ello boys!" He said excitedly, looking around at the thronging mass of dog that now surrounded them. He tried not to step on one as they we've in and out around his legs. "Dat's never 'appened befor." While Saha tried calling out for Peanut Drubbins cut out the middle man and just started picking up yellow dogs, which he laid across his shoulders like furs. For the most part they'd just sit there panting a bit before getting up and jumping back down, but a few seemed content to just hang out up there.</s> <\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era "My mentor always said that magic began at the point of intent and purpose, the wielder conducted the flow of power," Saha replied. "You're smarter than you look, Big Guy." Drubbins could carry the dogs on his shoulders but several suspects were still on the loose. The crowd was dispersing, the dogs ambled away now that he had stopped whistling. She thought to grab two herself but animals could be unpredictably aggressive at her, so she asked Drubbins, "The house is in these couple of streets. Do you think you can keep whistling - quieter - so that the mutts will follow us?"</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Sure fing boss." Drubbins replied, taking up his tuneless whistling again. It was slow going. He had to shuffle to avoid stepping on any of them, barely picking up his feet as he moved, but they eventually reached the house that Saha pointed out to him. Stopping his whistling, he sucked in his breath and yelled out at the house, "Oi! You was the ones what wanted dogs?"</s>	<\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era The red door cracked open emitting dim candlelight behind a young man. His thin pale face peered out and he glanced down at a dog sniffing at the threshold hungrily. It scratched at the door but the man was steadfast in keeping it out. "H-h-hello," he stammered at Drubbins. His eyes widened at the group of mutts gathered around the ogre. "I-I don't want no trouble, mister." "We've got your dog," Saha said. "Which one of these is yours?" "Peanut? You've got Peanut?" He opened the door wider to take a better look but didn't step outside. "That one!" He stretched out a lanky arm and pointed at one of them that resembled the others. "That's him! Peanut! Come here, boy!" When neither the man nor the dog made any move towards each other, Saha took the yellow mutt by its scruff and walked it to its owner. He was grinning and quickly let Peanut inside then shut the door. "Please wait!" came the muffled words. The timid man reopened it just long enough to pass Saha a small pouch. "T-Thank you! This means a lot to me and my wife!"</s>
<\|description\|>Liang Xian Age: 28 Sex: female Team: Legendary Lion-Turtles Role: Firebender Appearance: Liang stands just barely over 5 feet. Her face is quite pretty - though little scar runs from the left tip of her mouth to her chin. Her eyes are golden in color. Liang keeps her black hair cut very short from the front and the longer back part is held on a bun most of the time. Her left arm is missing - having been cut off just above the elbow in a horrible freak accident caused by an opposing team's blatant cheating. Liang wears a sort of prosthetic arm which is fixed behind her back as a part of her pro-bending uniform, mostly for helping her keep her balance. When not pro-bending she either wears a blue jacket with it's left sleeve tucked in a manner which hides the stump of her arm, or a bit longer red coat with the sleeve fixed in a similar manner. If she's making some kind of a public appearance she wears a slightly different prosthetic which she either tucks in one of her coat pockets or fixes behind her back. In addition to the coat or jacket Liang usually wears either gray or black pants with knee high boots that have a large buckle at the front and a red sleeveless shirt. Personality: Liang is a very quick thinker, she's able to come up with a strategy at a moment's notice. She trusts her friends more than anyone and does her best to never let their hopes down. Liang loathes cheaters to such a degree that if her team members do not step in she might actually cause some serious injury to the cheating party - be it in or outside the ring, even if it would cost them the whole tournament. Luckily she's easily calmed down by both Shin and Gen. Due to her rather volatile temperament Liang has a hard time controlling the intensity of her firebending - especially if she's frustrated - which can, and most likely will earn their team a penalty. Background: Liang Xian was born and raised in the Republic city to a relatively wealthy - if not overtly so - family of mixed heritage. Her father had been an above average pro-bender - he actually was the original captain of the Leaping Lion-Turtles well to his 50's until his back simply couldn't manage the work as a member of the Metalbending Police Force and his hobby of pro-bending. Her mother had tried her best not to encourage Liang in to following at her father's footsteps and instead work with the electric company she was working in. Their daughter however was enamored with the sport the moment she saw her first mach and after some arguing, a few tantrums and other such happenings Liang took over the captaincy and the legacy of the Leaping Lion-Turtles at the young age of 16. The new generation of the Lion-Turtles was a true force to be reckoned with - even though they were relatively young and at first quite untalented the group won their first championship during their first year and went on to dominate the Pro-Bending scene for the next 3 years. Their magnificent streak of victories and domination - which came at first from a combination of their opponents underestimating them and their skill and Liang's tactical thinking and later their near unrivaled teamwork and downright amazing stunts and sheer strength - came to a rather gruesome end. The opposing team cheated their way to a tiebreaker round where Liang faced the opposing team's firebender. Their match was very even until the opposing team's earthbender used a sharpened stone disc to brutally maim her arm. The opposing team was immediately disqualified and the Metalbending Police Force quickly took them in to custody. The Leaping Lion-Turtles won the championship at the cost of Liang's dominant arm and left the sport altogether for nearly 8 years. Sadly Liang's arm was so badly damaged that it had to be amputated. This however didn't stop her from bending. On the contrary she's spent a good portion of her free time to teach herself a new firebending style that only uses one arm. Just before the beginning of the tournament Liang gathered the old team together again and signed up as the Legendary Lion-Turtles. Though she knows they are all a bit out of practice they have not been forgotten. With luck their former success and fame gives them an edge over the competition - though no-one's going to underestimate them this time. Name: Shin Yu Age: 29 Sex: male Team: Legendary Lion-Turtles Role: Waterbender Appearance: Shin stands at just under 6 feet tall, he's quite broad shouldered - which makes him seem rather top heavy due to his thin arms and legs. His eyes have a warm brown color. His shoulder length hair is kept on a very simple topknot held in place by a thin strap of blue cloth. Shin has a bit effeminate facial features and a very kind and charming smile. Outside the ring Shin more often than not lends his blue jacket to Liang and just wears a white long sleeved collared shirt and blueish-gray pants with soft leather boots. Personality: If Liang is the hotblooded tactician of the team and Gen is the strength Shin is the mediator and diplomat. He seems to have a knack of talking the group out of any situation that Liang's temper or Gen's furious stubbornness have gotten them in to that time. He is quite overprotective of the rest of the team - especially after what happened to Liang - which oftentimes makes it seem like he has no sense of self preservation during matches. He often makes downright stupid stunts to keep his teammates out of harms way - usually it costs him either a knock back a zone or some minor injury. Background: Shin's family had been on the move ever since he could remember. Both is father and mother were skilled healers who seemingly had a need to help anyone in need of healing. The good part was that this actually kept the family well fed, but the bad part was that Shin really didn't have that many friends while growing up. When Shin was 17 - his family had settled down in Republic City for the time being - he made his first real longtime friends mostly by accident by intervening in a fight a really hotheaded girl had gotten into. It wasn't long until the girl - Liang - managed to convince him to join her Pro-Bending team which soon gained a third member in the form of a perhaps the most hardheaded earthbender Shin had ever met. The Leaping Lion-Turtles had their time in the spotlight and after the horrible accident that crippled Liang the team was disbanded. Shin has spent the last 8 years healing people in his small clinic near the Pro-Bending arena and though he has kept out of the ring himself he's still an avid fan - occasionally people recognize him which gives him a chance to for at least a while go back to the glory days of the team. When Liang suggested that the team should reform Shin was at first a bit skeptical, but eventually Gen's stubbornness and Liang's excitement won him over. Name: Gen Gan-Jin Age: 31 Sex: Male Team: Legendary Lion-Turtles Role: Earthbender Appearance: Gen stands at an amazing 7'2 feet, he's noticeably more muscular and larger than the rest of the team to the point that if the group has to be found in a crowd spotting him is the easiest way. His black hair has a thick reddish-brown lock on the left temple which he keeps away from his eye with a silver hairpin. Gen has a very strong jaw and his nose has been broken a few times judging by the angle it has twisted to. Despite that he's quite handsome and used to be the face of the team - though Shin did most of the talking especially when Liang was frustrated over something. Outside the ring Gen wears a wide sleeved black shirt with way too many buttons on it and over it he drapes a gray overcoat that extends just below his knees. Despite wearing a very stylish pair of pants - that have way too many pockets - Gen doesn't wear any shoes if it's not cold outside - in his own words it 'cramps his style'. Personality: Gen is a very stubborn individual - though quite nice to chat with and most of the times polite - he just has a very bad habit of not agreeing with people even when he's wrong, though eventually he might cave in and admit that he was wrong. His sheer size has made him slightly overconfident in his strength and he's usually the first target the opposing team goes for - not that it bothers him to the slightest since he's very good at taking and causing damage. Gen still tries to act like the young, handsome and lady wooing fellow he was 10 years ago, but nowadays he does it mostly to annoy his teammates. Background: Gen had never been much of a fan of Pro-Bending even though his father had taken him to watch the matches since he was 4 years old. There had just been something about the sport that kinda went over his head. He was in his early 20's - well 19 to be exact - when he was coerced in to trying the sport by a friend of his father. His father's friend had been a captain of a pro-bending team for nearly 30 years as a side hobby and the team had managed to get a few wins under their belt. He joined the team quite reluctantly - after all the captain of the team was just an annoyingly hotheaded girl and the waterbender was an annoyingly pretty boy with an annoyingly nice smile. The team however worked surprisingly well and Gen had to admit that the attention they were getting from fans was something he really liked. The team's heyday came and went, the team was eventually disbanded due to Liang's injury and Gen ended up joining the Metalbending Police for a brief while before working on different odd jobs. Nearly 8 years passed and while Gen kept close contact to his former team members and stayed in touch with the sport - even stepping back to the ring for a brief while - he really didn't feel at home without his friends. When Liang suggested that the old band was to be put together Gen was more than delighted to join and eventually he and Liang managed to convince Shin back to the team as well.</s> <\|message\|>Bon Xiu Kimiko shrugged before whistling loudly, enough to get the attention of everyone in the gym. "Fellas," she called out towards the Elephant Kois, "Want to lend one of your teammates to aid Mr. Earthbender over there in a sparring match?" "For a pretty girl like you, I'll spar anyone." said Bon. "Who wants to spar?" He looked around to see if anyone responded. Wes sighed, then introduced the team to the others that were there. "I'm Wes Xiu, Earthbender, that bone-head over there is Bon, my brother, and Waterbender, and this is Min Sun, our little sis, and a Firebender. Our Firebender quit on us the same night we won a spot in the championship, so we had to get Min to fill in. We came to get her some practice before the tournament, so if anyone should spar with one of you, it's her. In fact, if two of you want to take us on, I'll take you on with her on my side."</s> <\|message\|>Xeno Kimiko watched as people after people came in the gym and a grin took over her face. She could feel herself getting fired up just by seeing all her opponents. Even the cockiness of some only proved to ignite the flame inside her further. Xeno, seeing this, sighed. "So, I guess this is happening, huh?" After seeing an enthusiastic nod from Kimiko, Xeno craned her neck to look over the opponents. Team Elephant Kois was in complete attendance, as was the Viper Bats. And there was one member of the Legendary Lion-Turtles that popped in. They were definitely contenders, teams they knew would prove to be strong opponents in the field, and Xeno felt just how pumped up their team leader was. "How about we do it this way," they began, bending and bringing up four earth slabs, "Two teams of two, with one person from each team as a representative for this sparring match." Kimiko stepped up next to her teammate and lowered her goggles to her eyes. "I'll be representing the Raven Eagles. Which one of you is going to be my partner?" Xeno grinned and bended the slab towards Kimiko, carving the number one on it. They bended the same number on one of the remaining slabs and the number two on the rest. "Oh, and Xeno, we're gonna need a referee," Kimiko added as an afterthought. She turned towards the other teams while pointing with her thumb towards her teammate. "You guys okay if Xeno over there took up that role? If they try to cheat, you have my permission to beat them up." Xeno's only response was a small smirk towards Kimiko, as though saying they'd like to see them try, but said nothing as she waited for the rest of the teams to offer up someone. Kimiko pumped her fist in the air. "Come on, people. This is a learning experience!"</s>	<\|message\|>Liang Xian Liang managed to pump herself up a bit at the prospect of having a little sparring match. She smiled quite excitedly and shrugged her shoulders "Heck, why not. I'm in." The firebender began tucking her jacket sleeve in to a better position and mumbled something about forgetting things, then she just opened her jacket and tossed it aside. Under the jacket she wore a simple white shirt that had only one sleeve to cover the stump of her arm. "So, who wants a handicap for their team?" Though Liang was quite self-conscious about her handicap she wasn't above jesting about it at this point. When someone mentioned cheating the firebender tensed up a bit - quite noticeably actually, but atleast she managed to keep her cool - though her voice was ever so slightly strained. "No need to worry about cheating on my part, just warning you. If anyone tries something fishy they got me to contend with." Liang pointed herself with her thumb and tried to look intimidating. Then she smirked excitedly and coughed "Oh, where are my manners!" Liang shook her head a bit before taking a goofy little pose. "I'm Liang Xian! The captain of the Legendary Lion-turtles!"</s>
<\|description\|>Siku Juntenka Age: Sixteen Sex: Female Team: Viper Bats Role: Water-Bender Appearance: She is very tall and lengthy. Her hair is also longer than that, but she normally keeps it up in a ponytail Personality: Siku tends to be quiet during a match. She never responds to taunts. Even though she does not respond to them doesn't mean that she doesn't hears them. Siku tends to keep her anger bottled up inside rather than letting it out. She is very fun loving thought when she is not in a match. She tends to be very carefree and excited all the time. She is never quiet outside of a match. She has a weakness, though, towards fire because of her family history (reason why below). She never purposely steps over a boundary though, unless she is forced over it. Her main weapon of choice is the water whip, which seems to the do the job in a match very well. Siku isn't a showoff, but she likes to add a little flare to whatever she is doing. She tends to be restless when she is not doing anything and likes to get into trouble at times. But she would never jeopardize her team. Whenever she is knocked into the water, she is always frustrated with herself and always tells herself that she needs to do better. If they lose a match, never talk to her. She gets furious and goes out to the ocean to train some more. Background: Siku grew up mostly in the northern water tribe. She was a very restless child, always getting into trouble whenever she could. She discovered that she was a water bender when she was seven years old. Her and one of her friends were running along the edge (like the very edge) of the outer wall when he suddenly slipped and fell off the side. There was nothing below but freezing water. She ran to the other side and screamed for help. He tumbled even further down and she mimicked something that she had seen some of the older water benders do. A small block of snow came out from within the wall and caught her friend just in time. After she discovered this new power, she began to train with the other water benders. When she was eight, only a year after beginning her training, her parents decided to move to Republic City for a better life. They packed up their things and left the tribe, heading for the emblem of freedom. They found a small apartment close to the pro bending arena and her and her father began to go to games frequently. This is how to she got into pro bending. She would watch the matches and then go out to the sea and try to copy the movements. One night, when she was thirteen, when she and her father were walking home from one of the matches, they were confronted by a tall, towering fire bender, who was obviously homeless or poor. He struck a very threatening pose and told them if they didn't give him their money, then he would cut them down like the water tribe scum they were. Her father, being a proud man, refused and the man kept his word. As he was fighting the man, her father screamed at her to run, which she did. She ran to go get help, but there were no policemen around at the time. By the time she found someone though, it was too late. Her father was dead. She threw herself headlong into practicing her water bending, mimicking and perfecting each move that she had seen at the pro bending tournaments. She eventually told her mother that she was joining and that they needed the money. Her mother didn't stop her and even promised to come to all of her matches. Now, she has joined a team with Ryko and Ryou. This is her first team and she hopes that they can do well, considering that they have been training together for two years. Name: Ryou and Ryko Kasaisekitan Age: Both 19 (Fraternal Twins, Ryou is older by a minute) Sex: Both Male Team: Viper Bats Role: Ryou is fire bender and Ryko is the earth bender Appearance: Personality: Ryou is more fun loving that his brother. He is fiery, like his fire bending powers, and he loves to pull pranks on his younger brother. He is fiercely loyal when it comes to his team and his family and he loves to argue with his brother. He likes to taunt during matches and tends to show off his powers like Siku does. Ryou is very accepting of Siku's fear of fear and tries not to fire bend to close to her. He has a very short fuse when it comes to anger and can switch quickly between happiness and anger. Ryko is a bit more stubborn than his brother is and a bit more hard headed, like his earth bending powers. He doesn't mind the pranks that his brother pulls, but he is always serious when it comes to matches. Like Siku, he is silent during the match and tries to stay focused rather than taunt the other team. He hates the taunting itself and if the other team begins to taunt him, he will knock the taunter off if he can. He has a short fuse, like his brother, and he hates it when his brother rubs it in his face that he's older. He is always the one who starts the fights with his brother, though. Background: Ryou and Ryko were both born in Republic City to a fire bending father and an earth bending mother. They grew up in the city where their father worked as an electrician and their mother worked with the police of Republic city. Their parents were rarely home, so the boys would always go exploring without their parents' knowledge. They would always come back before either of them came home at night. Ryou was very protective of Ryko. They found out that they had bending abilities when they were playing in the streets one day. They were play fighting and Ryou accidentally set off a fire blast in the direction of his younger brother. Ryko drew up his arms to defend himself, thus bringing up huge rocks directly in front of himself. After this discovery, they immediately ran home to tell their parents. Their parents, in turn, began to train them in the ways of each of their powers. They both grew closer with the parent that taught them how to train their powers. Their parents also began to take them to pro bending games. Ryou and Ryko got so excited by these that when their parents were at work, they would sneak into matches and watch. They began to copy the movements of the pro benders and replicate them in fights against each other, Ryou always winning of course. When they finally turned eighteen, they told their parents that they wanted to join the league. Their parents didn't care, and, being too busy, didn't seem to notice when their boys were gone. The boys and Siku have been training together for over two years now and have become very well trained. They plan to hopefully train some more and win.</s> <\|message\|>Xeno "Come one, come all, and witness the greatest display of bending talent! Benders from all corners of the world come together to duke it out with each other and prove once and for all who the greatest and strongest is! Republic City welcomes you, great heroes, to the... PRO-BENDING ANNUAL TOURNAMENT!" Kimiko's arms crossed over her shoulders as she listened to the announcer on the radio. "The greatest and strongest, huh?" she found herself murmuring. Last year's winners had been a group called Badgermoles, a team notorious for their arrogance and disregard for common courtesy. Apparently, they were the greatest and strongest. The thought made Kimiko want to vomit out the sweet bread she just ate. The Badgermoles wouldn't be competing this year. "Cowards." "What's gotten you all surly there?" Kai piped up from the kitchen area. He was the designated cook for the week, decided after a sparring match between the three of them. Kai always seemed to don the apron more often than the other two, but it didn't seem to bother him much. He liked cooking for the team, and it was obvious that the team loved his cooking - if Kimiko and Xeno's teaming up every sparring session was any indication. Xeno, who had been busy attempting to create a frozen sculpture in their part of the apartment, piped up, "Overachiever won't feel like she's the greatest and strongest unless she beats last year's champion." "Whatever." Kimiko jumped up and stretched her limbs. "I'm going to the gym. Just have Anana call me when lunch is ready." Xeno gave her a salute and returned to their sculpture as the door slammed shut behind Kimiko. "She's been getting antsy, hasn't she?" "She's just excited," Kai answered flippantly. "Anyway, I need your help. Taste this and tell me if it's too salty." Xeno's eyes rolled but they stood up and approached the boy nonetheless. Meanwhile, Kimiko had just changed into her training clothes and set up the gym. With a couple of test jabs, she was ready.</s> <\|message\|>Liang Xian "Why are we even here?" Gen mumbled with some mild annoyance in his voice. "We'll be facing just little kids." The tall earthbender shook his head as he paced back and forth around the room the Legendary Lion-turtles were occupying. He flicked the reddish lock of hair away from his eyes and fiddled around with the silver hairpin. Shin let out a little chuckle as he took a sip of tea and stared out from a window to the street below. His smile hadn't lost any of it's charm or warmth over the years. "Oh come on Gen, we were just kids when we started. You remember how we were underestimated at first, hmm?" He glanced towards Gen and gestured with his teacup "We can't go underestimating anyone - so..." "We'll just fight like every match is against the toughest enemy we have had thus far. Kiddie gloves are off from the get go." Liang cut in from the sofa she was reclining on. The sofa was situated on a corner and it was the largest piece of furniture in the room. "We have a week to get our act together again so we'd better start training first thing tomorrow." She rubbed her left shoulder and shook her head a bit. "My neck is killing me again..." Shin finished his tea calmly, placed the cup on a table and made his way to the sofa. He rather impolitely shoved Liang to the floor and sat behind her. Liang let out a surprised little squeak and was about to say something rather impolite when the waterbender began gently massaging her neck. "How have you survived without us looking after you?" He asked with that annoyingly polite voice of his. Liang closed her eyes and let out a sigh - with her best attempt at seeming like she was really annoyed. "I've survived just fine, thank you very much... Oh, just a bit to the right, please." Gen glanced at his teammates and didn't even try to hide his smile. Eight years had been such a long time and they hadn't seen each other enough to his liking. Something just reminded so much of the old times... He wiped the side of his eye and grinned. "Once you are done with the captain how about you fix my back while you are at it?" Shin shrugged his shoulders and smirked "We'll see about that, this'll take a while." Liang giggled and glanced at the ceiling - she got a little nudge to the back of her head from Shin "Oi, no moving when I'm working li'll miss." The firebender pouted and lowered her arm to her lap. "F-fine..."</s>	<\|message\|>Siku Juntenka Siku had been asleep when the radio announcement went off, but Ryou and Ryko sure as hell aren't. They listen intently to the radio as they talk about the tournament. Siku is asleep on Ryou's bed after a long day, so Ryko hits her awake. "Wait up sleepy moron!" he says loudly. "Listen to this." Siku jolts awake and listens sleepily to the rest of the announcement before yawning once it ends. "That sounds great," she says with a tired yawn. She falls back on the bed but Ryko catches her before she can fall back asleep. She rolls her eyes and stretches, trying to wake herself up more so she can actually talk to her team. "Fine, what do you want to do?" "Well, I don't care what you two do," Ryko says with a grin. "I'm head down to the gym to practice. You guys can either come with, or stay here and make out." He aims this remark directly at his brother, who flushes a dark red and rubs the back of his neck. He had had a crush on Siku ever since she joined their team. Ryko rolls his eyes and punches his brother's shoulder. "Later!" He hurries out the door in his training gear, which he had already had on before the announcement. He had been planning on going and training today anyways. Ryou, now fully red, looks over at Siku, who just laughs at him and stands up to stretch. She bends over, touches her toes before bouncing back up. She smiles at him and says, "Don't worry. I knew Ryko was joking." Ryou nods and stands up himself. He walks back into the kitchen and begins to make himself some lunch. "You slept in late," Ryou calls from the kitchen. "Any reason why you were out so late?" Siku is silent, but she unconsciously covers up some fire burns from the previous night. "No reason. Just walking around." Ryou snorts with disbelief, but he doesn't push her to answer anything. Instead, he flips the sandwich he is making. Her business is her own and he wasn't going to pry. Meanwhile, Ryko arrives at the gym in a flourish, expecting to see at least a few other people there, but there is no one else but a girl about his age practice. He sighs and tosses his coat to the side, heading toward the earth bender area. He begins to warm up and before long, he is shooting the discs with ease into the goals. He looks over at the girl and says, "I assume you're practicing for the tournament?"</s>
<\|description\|>Bon Xiu Age: 26 Sex: Any time you want, babe. Male Team: Elephant Kois Role: Water Appearance: Personality: Self absorbed, but fun loving. He may think everyone should like the same things he does, but that's just because he knows those things are the most fun and wants everyone to have fun. Some people wonder if he's capable of understanding that other people might have different interests. Background: Born on Kioshi Island, his father a simple Earth bender/fisherman and his mom a healer from the Swamp benders, he and his brother grew up on the beach. One day, however, a hurricane came to the island. Many people were killed, including his father. After that they moved to Republic city to get a fresh start and try and forget the tragedy. Their mom fell in love with a Fire bender working in the city power plant and got remarried, and a few years later, they had a sister. This didn't keep them at home, however, and they were always going to the beach just outside the city. When they grew up they decided to become pro benders, as it seemed like the most fun way of earning a living. Everything was going good until their fire bender decided to quit. They quickly replaced him with the only fire bender they knew that would join them on short notice, their sister. Unfortunately, she is pathetic at practice, so she doesn't get in much practice. Name: Wes Xiu Age: 24 Sex: Depends who's asking. Male Team: Elephant Kois Role: Earth Appearance: Personality: Partier. He's always looking for a way to have fun, and wants to have as much fun as he can. The closest he comes to having a job is selling the statues he makes out of beach sand. Background: Born on Kioshi Island, his father a simple Earth bender/fisherman and his mom a healer from the Swamp benders, he and his brother grew up on the beach. One day, however, a hurricane came to the island. Many people were killed, including his father. After that they moved to Republic city to get a fresh start and try and forget the tragedy. Their mom fell in love with a Fire bender working in the city power plant and got remarried, and a few years later, they had a sister. This didn't keep them at home, however, and they were always going to the beach just outside the city. When they grew up they decided to become pro benders, as it seemed like the most fun way of earning a living. Everything was going good until their fire bender decided to quit. They quickly replaced him with the only fire bender they knew that would join them on short notice, their sister. Unfortunately, she is pathetic at practice, so she doesn't get in much practice. Name: Min Sun Age: 18 Sex: Female Team: Elephant Kois Role: Fire Bender Appearance: Personality: Timid and subservient, she isn't seems to only want to make others happy and to be unable to stand up for herself. When she gets into the ring, however, she changes. Once she gets hit she kind of loses it and goes into all-out attack mode. Background: Her mom moved to Republic city from Kioshi island following some tragedy, and met her dad. They fell in love and got married, and eventually she was born. She didn't get along to well with her brothers. While they were out playing on the beach, she was at home studying like a good girl. She did well in school, graduating near the top of her class. She did her chores like she was told, and even did her brother's chores for them sometimes so they could go to the beach. When she got out of school, she planned on finding a nice job, a husband, buying a house in the city, and having kids. Her brothers, however, wanted her to join some sports team they started. She decided to help them, at least until they could find a replacement.</s> <\|message\|>Bon Xiu Min turned off the radio and walked out onto the beach. She had been staying with her brothers at their beach house for the last week, as it afforded them more time to train. Seeing them now, though, she wandered if they were really serious about training. Bon was out on his board, creating or enhancing the waves to make the surfing better. Wes was building statues, bending the sand on the beach into the proper state and then turning it to stone. "uh, guys, can we maybe practice now?" she said. "I need to get better before the match." Wes made the statue flip over and put a flat bottom on it. "Good idea. Maybe we can run into another team and have a sparing session." he said before calling out "Hey, Bon, come here. Min wants to hit the gym." Bon rode his board over to the shore then flipped it up with a bit of water so that he could grab it. "So you wanna build some muscles, little sis? Cool, I can help you train." "No, I mean, I think we need to practice our bending, at least together." "Right, Bon said. We have the final coming up and haven't every been in a real match together. Let me go get dressed and we'll go there. Who knows, maybe one of the other teams will be there." After everyone got ready they went to the gym. There the guys taught Min a training exercise. "Ok, so what you do is stand in a circle." Wes said, "then each person attacks the other two. We'll of course be trying to attack the other two people too, so you have to block and attack at the same time. There's also strategy, as you don't want one of us to be strong enough to still beat you when the other gets knocked down. You got that?" "Not really." "You'll catch on," said Bon, "Begin." He pulled some water from some jugs nearby and sent it at her, knocking her down. He walked over, helped his drenched sister stand up, then walked back to his position. "Don't worry," he said, pulling the water off of her, "you'll get the hang of it." This time, however, both brothers launched attacks at her. She had no choice but to dodge.</s> <\|message\|>Xeno Kimiko practiced a few jabs, sending fireballs towards a dummy a couple of feet away. Her chest heaved as she let her hands fall to her knees, taking a moment to catch her breath, and watch the sweat roll off her forehead and drop onto the floor. It was then that the door slammed open, revealing a dark haired boy that Kimiko has seen around before. Kimiko watched as the boy warmed up and showed off his earthbending skills, and with a flash of her eyes, she remembered where she saw him before. He was one of the participants in the tournament - a member of the Viper Bats if she wasn't mistaken. "You assume correctly," she replied, before coming back to her stance. She jabbed at the target again, much fiercer this time, until she set the wooden dummy on fire. With a satisfied smirk - the thought that she would have to compensate for the destroyed dummy later filed at the back of her mind - she turned to the boy again. She held out her hand. "Kimiko Tetsume. Raven Eagles." Xeno arrived in the gym just moments before another team popped inside. Xeno shot them a look, before coming up beside Kimiko. "You know them?" they asked. Kimiko looked up and watched as the two guys taught the girl the basics, and she smiled to herself. "Elephant Kois," she finally said. "Where's Kai?" "He's cleaning up his mess." "Again?" Xeno nodded with a neutral look. She then turned her eyes towards Ryko. "Earthbender?" they asked, but continued without waiting for an answer. "We should spar. It wouldn't be a fair fight with one of you and two of us, though, so how about just us?" Kimiko shrugged before whistling loudly, enough to get the attention of everyone in the gym. "Fellas," she called out towards the Elephant Kois, "Want to lend one of your teammates to aid Mr. Earthbender over there in a sparring match?"</s> <\|message\|>Liang Xian It wasn't long until Liang was again able to move her head properly thanks to Shin's skills as an amateur masseur. She got on her feet and casually picked up the waterbenders jacket. After some - noticeably exaggerated - difficulties she was wearing it properly and glanced at her two teammates. "Now, I'm going to do some scouting!" Her declaration was punctuated with a rather goofy little pose. Shin shook his head slightly and glanced at Gen. "Well, if our dear captain wants to do some scouting there isn't anything we can say about that." The tall earthbender rolled his eyes "Yes we could." It was a very blunt and very correct statement and Shin didn't want to argue with his more ...stubborn... friend. He just nodded. "Yes, yes we could, but I for one won't. Now, if your damn back hasn't miraculously fixed itself I now have some time to fix it." "I'll be back after a while! If you smell smoke it might not be me this time. Don't hurt each other when I'm gone!" Liang stated quickly before disappearing from the room - leaving her teammates just looking at each other with amusement. They both began laughing and Shin nearly fell from the sofa. "She really hasn't changed at all..." He managed from between bursts of laughter. Gen managed to nearly collect himself before bursting in to laughter again "She really hasn't." The tall earthbender managed to seat himself in front of the waterbender and even gathered his composure. "You think we should...?" Shin shook his head and began working on Gen's back. "No we shouldn't. Let her blow off some steam on her own for now... Seriously, how have you gotten your back in to this condition??" The earthbender coughed and mumbled "...Training..." _____________ "Where is it? Wheeeeere is it??" Liang more or less ran around while examining the place and finally she located what she was looking for - the gym, or was it a sparring area? Oh well the name of the particular place wasn't important, finding it was. She entered just as someone had issued a not-quite-a-challenge. What she could tell there were members of atleast two other teams present. She was quite certain none of them would be old enough to remember her or her team - not that it really mattered to Liang, apart from the fact that it would make them lose some of their as she called it 'fright factor' - since they had been pretty good back in the day. She made sure that the sleeve of her jacket was properly tucked to a pocket so it seemed like she was just holding her hand there - the firebender silently berated her for forgetting her prosthetic, if she'd just turn around now anyone wouldn't notice that she was there and she could make a better first impression. Admittedly she had already stepped in to the gym so there was really no turning back. Liang felt so very lost for just a few seconds, why hadn't she asked the boys to come with her? What should she say? Shin would know what to say... After what felt like an eternity - in truth she had stood there for maybe 10 seconds - the firebender smiled sheepishly, waved her arm even more sheepishly and managed to say a barely audiable "Hi."</s> <\|message\|>Siku Juntenka Ryko shakes her hand and says, "Ryko Kasaisekitan." She makes the comment about the sparring and he's about to respond when a smug, amused voice comes out from behind him. "That won't be necessary, darlin'." Ryou walks over and throws his arm around Ryko's shoulders. "Already getting into trouble, eh, little brother?" Ryko shrugs his brother arm off of him and snaps, "I'm not getting into trouble. They just want a sparring partner. I figured it would be fine." Ryou rolls his eyes at his brother and turns to the two benders standing in front of him. "Ryou Kasaisekitan, this punk's twin older brother. If you want a sparring match, you got one. I am the fire bender for the Viper Bats and my brother is the earth bender, if you can't already tell." He glares over at his brother. "It's a fair fight now, so why don't we get set up?" Ryou walks away a little bit, firing a couple shots toward the target next to Kimiko's. His blasts are much hotter and a lot larger than hers, and they burn through the target almost immediately. He chuckles and turns back to Kimiko and Xeno. "Well, I'm warmed up. Let's go. I could use the practice." --------------------------------------- Siku takes a deep breath before walking into the gym. She had come with Ryou, but he had disappeared from her side once they had entered the area. She sees the two brothers talking to some benders from another team. She cringes as she recognizes Kimiko Tetsume from the Raven Eagles and immediately goes to the other side of the gym to make sure to stay away from them. So, she walks over to the water bending area and begins to practice.</s>	<\|message\|>Bon Xiu Kimiko shrugged before whistling loudly, enough to get the attention of everyone in the gym. "Fellas," she called out towards the Elephant Kois, "Want to lend one of your teammates to aid Mr. Earthbender over there in a sparring match?" "For a pretty girl like you, I'll spar anyone." said Bon. "Who wants to spar?" He looked around to see if anyone responded. Wes sighed, then introduced the team to the others that were there. "I'm Wes Xiu, Earthbender, that bone-head over there is Bon, my brother, and Waterbender, and this is Min Sun, our little sis, and a Firebender. Our Firebender quit on us the same night we won a spot in the championship, so we had to get Min to fill in. We came to get her some practice before the tournament, so if anyone should spar with one of you, it's her. In fact, if two of you want to take us on, I'll take you on with her on my side."</s>
<\|description\|>Bon Xiu Age: 26 Sex: Any time you want, babe. Male Team: Elephant Kois Role: Water Appearance: Personality: Self absorbed, but fun loving. He may think everyone should like the same things he does, but that's just because he knows those things are the most fun and wants everyone to have fun. Some people wonder if he's capable of understanding that other people might have different interests. Background: Born on Kioshi Island, his father a simple Earth bender/fisherman and his mom a healer from the Swamp benders, he and his brother grew up on the beach. One day, however, a hurricane came to the island. Many people were killed, including his father. After that they moved to Republic city to get a fresh start and try and forget the tragedy. Their mom fell in love with a Fire bender working in the city power plant and got remarried, and a few years later, they had a sister. This didn't keep them at home, however, and they were always going to the beach just outside the city. When they grew up they decided to become pro benders, as it seemed like the most fun way of earning a living. Everything was going good until their fire bender decided to quit. They quickly replaced him with the only fire bender they knew that would join them on short notice, their sister. Unfortunately, she is pathetic at practice, so she doesn't get in much practice. Name: Wes Xiu Age: 24 Sex: Depends who's asking. Male Team: Elephant Kois Role: Earth Appearance: Personality: Partier. He's always looking for a way to have fun, and wants to have as much fun as he can. The closest he comes to having a job is selling the statues he makes out of beach sand. Background: Born on Kioshi Island, his father a simple Earth bender/fisherman and his mom a healer from the Swamp benders, he and his brother grew up on the beach. One day, however, a hurricane came to the island. Many people were killed, including his father. After that they moved to Republic city to get a fresh start and try and forget the tragedy. Their mom fell in love with a Fire bender working in the city power plant and got remarried, and a few years later, they had a sister. This didn't keep them at home, however, and they were always going to the beach just outside the city. When they grew up they decided to become pro benders, as it seemed like the most fun way of earning a living. Everything was going good until their fire bender decided to quit. They quickly replaced him with the only fire bender they knew that would join them on short notice, their sister. Unfortunately, she is pathetic at practice, so she doesn't get in much practice. Name: Min Sun Age: 18 Sex: Female Team: Elephant Kois Role: Fire Bender Appearance: Personality: Timid and subservient, she isn't seems to only want to make others happy and to be unable to stand up for herself. When she gets into the ring, however, she changes. Once she gets hit she kind of loses it and goes into all-out attack mode. Background: Her mom moved to Republic city from Kioshi island following some tragedy, and met her dad. They fell in love and got married, and eventually she was born. She didn't get along to well with her brothers. While they were out playing on the beach, she was at home studying like a good girl. She did well in school, graduating near the top of her class. She did her chores like she was told, and even did her brother's chores for them sometimes so they could go to the beach. When she got out of school, she planned on finding a nice job, a husband, buying a house in the city, and having kids. Her brothers, however, wanted her to join some sports team they started. She decided to help them, at least until they could find a replacement.</s> <\|message\|>Xeno Kimiko practiced a few jabs, sending fireballs towards a dummy a couple of feet away. Her chest heaved as she let her hands fall to her knees, taking a moment to catch her breath, and watch the sweat roll off her forehead and drop onto the floor. It was then that the door slammed open, revealing a dark haired boy that Kimiko has seen around before. Kimiko watched as the boy warmed up and showed off his earthbending skills, and with a flash of her eyes, she remembered where she saw him before. He was one of the participants in the tournament - a member of the Viper Bats if she wasn't mistaken. "You assume correctly," she replied, before coming back to her stance. She jabbed at the target again, much fiercer this time, until she set the wooden dummy on fire. With a satisfied smirk - the thought that she would have to compensate for the destroyed dummy later filed at the back of her mind - she turned to the boy again. She held out her hand. "Kimiko Tetsume. Raven Eagles." Xeno arrived in the gym just moments before another team popped inside. Xeno shot them a look, before coming up beside Kimiko. "You know them?" they asked. Kimiko looked up and watched as the two guys taught the girl the basics, and she smiled to herself. "Elephant Kois," she finally said. "Where's Kai?" "He's cleaning up his mess." "Again?" Xeno nodded with a neutral look. She then turned her eyes towards Ryko. "Earthbender?" they asked, but continued without waiting for an answer. "We should spar. It wouldn't be a fair fight with one of you and two of us, though, so how about just us?" Kimiko shrugged before whistling loudly, enough to get the attention of everyone in the gym. "Fellas," she called out towards the Elephant Kois, "Want to lend one of your teammates to aid Mr. Earthbender over there in a sparring match?"</s> <\|message\|>Liang Xian It wasn't long until Liang was again able to move her head properly thanks to Shin's skills as an amateur masseur. She got on her feet and casually picked up the waterbenders jacket. After some - noticeably exaggerated - difficulties she was wearing it properly and glanced at her two teammates. "Now, I'm going to do some scouting!" Her declaration was punctuated with a rather goofy little pose. Shin shook his head slightly and glanced at Gen. "Well, if our dear captain wants to do some scouting there isn't anything we can say about that." The tall earthbender rolled his eyes "Yes we could." It was a very blunt and very correct statement and Shin didn't want to argue with his more ...stubborn... friend. He just nodded. "Yes, yes we could, but I for one won't. Now, if your damn back hasn't miraculously fixed itself I now have some time to fix it." "I'll be back after a while! If you smell smoke it might not be me this time. Don't hurt each other when I'm gone!" Liang stated quickly before disappearing from the room - leaving her teammates just looking at each other with amusement. They both began laughing and Shin nearly fell from the sofa. "She really hasn't changed at all..." He managed from between bursts of laughter. Gen managed to nearly collect himself before bursting in to laughter again "She really hasn't." The tall earthbender managed to seat himself in front of the waterbender and even gathered his composure. "You think we should...?" Shin shook his head and began working on Gen's back. "No we shouldn't. Let her blow off some steam on her own for now... Seriously, how have you gotten your back in to this condition??" The earthbender coughed and mumbled "...Training..." _____________ "Where is it? Wheeeeere is it??" Liang more or less ran around while examining the place and finally she located what she was looking for - the gym, or was it a sparring area? Oh well the name of the particular place wasn't important, finding it was. She entered just as someone had issued a not-quite-a-challenge. What she could tell there were members of atleast two other teams present. She was quite certain none of them would be old enough to remember her or her team - not that it really mattered to Liang, apart from the fact that it would make them lose some of their as she called it 'fright factor' - since they had been pretty good back in the day. She made sure that the sleeve of her jacket was properly tucked to a pocket so it seemed like she was just holding her hand there - the firebender silently berated her for forgetting her prosthetic, if she'd just turn around now anyone wouldn't notice that she was there and she could make a better first impression. Admittedly she had already stepped in to the gym so there was really no turning back. Liang felt so very lost for just a few seconds, why hadn't she asked the boys to come with her? What should she say? Shin would know what to say... After what felt like an eternity - in truth she had stood there for maybe 10 seconds - the firebender smiled sheepishly, waved her arm even more sheepishly and managed to say a barely audiable "Hi."</s> <\|message\|>Siku Juntenka Ryko shakes her hand and says, "Ryko Kasaisekitan." She makes the comment about the sparring and he's about to respond when a smug, amused voice comes out from behind him. "That won't be necessary, darlin'." Ryou walks over and throws his arm around Ryko's shoulders. "Already getting into trouble, eh, little brother?" Ryko shrugs his brother arm off of him and snaps, "I'm not getting into trouble. They just want a sparring partner. I figured it would be fine." Ryou rolls his eyes at his brother and turns to the two benders standing in front of him. "Ryou Kasaisekitan, this punk's twin older brother. If you want a sparring match, you got one. I am the fire bender for the Viper Bats and my brother is the earth bender, if you can't already tell." He glares over at his brother. "It's a fair fight now, so why don't we get set up?" Ryou walks away a little bit, firing a couple shots toward the target next to Kimiko's. His blasts are much hotter and a lot larger than hers, and they burn through the target almost immediately. He chuckles and turns back to Kimiko and Xeno. "Well, I'm warmed up. Let's go. I could use the practice." --------------------------------------- Siku takes a deep breath before walking into the gym. She had come with Ryou, but he had disappeared from her side once they had entered the area. She sees the two brothers talking to some benders from another team. She cringes as she recognizes Kimiko Tetsume from the Raven Eagles and immediately goes to the other side of the gym to make sure to stay away from them. So, she walks over to the water bending area and begins to practice.</s> <\|message\|>Bon Xiu Kimiko shrugged before whistling loudly, enough to get the attention of everyone in the gym. "Fellas," she called out towards the Elephant Kois, "Want to lend one of your teammates to aid Mr. Earthbender over there in a sparring match?" "For a pretty girl like you, I'll spar anyone." said Bon. "Who wants to spar?" He looked around to see if anyone responded. Wes sighed, then introduced the team to the others that were there. "I'm Wes Xiu, Earthbender, that bone-head over there is Bon, my brother, and Waterbender, and this is Min Sun, our little sis, and a Firebender. Our Firebender quit on us the same night we won a spot in the championship, so we had to get Min to fill in. We came to get her some practice before the tournament, so if anyone should spar with one of you, it's her. In fact, if two of you want to take us on, I'll take you on with her on my side."</s> <\|message\|>Xeno Kimiko watched as people after people came in the gym and a grin took over her face. She could feel herself getting fired up just by seeing all her opponents. Even the cockiness of some only proved to ignite the flame inside her further. Xeno, seeing this, sighed. "So, I guess this is happening, huh?" After seeing an enthusiastic nod from Kimiko, Xeno craned her neck to look over the opponents. Team Elephant Kois was in complete attendance, as was the Viper Bats. And there was one member of the Legendary Lion-Turtles that popped in. They were definitely contenders, teams they knew would prove to be strong opponents in the field, and Xeno felt just how pumped up their team leader was. "How about we do it this way," they began, bending and bringing up four earth slabs, "Two teams of two, with one person from each team as a representative for this sparring match." Kimiko stepped up next to her teammate and lowered her goggles to her eyes. "I'll be representing the Raven Eagles. Which one of you is going to be my partner?" Xeno grinned and bended the slab towards Kimiko, carving the number one on it. They bended the same number on one of the remaining slabs and the number two on the rest. "Oh, and Xeno, we're gonna need a referee," Kimiko added as an afterthought. She turned towards the other teams while pointing with her thumb towards her teammate. "You guys okay if Xeno over there took up that role? If they try to cheat, you have my permission to beat them up." Xeno's only response was a small smirk towards Kimiko, as though saying they'd like to see them try, but said nothing as she waited for the rest of the teams to offer up someone. Kimiko pumped her fist in the air. "Come on, people. This is a learning experience!"</s> <\|message\|>Liang Xian Liang managed to pump herself up a bit at the prospect of having a little sparring match. She smiled quite excitedly and shrugged her shoulders "Heck, why not. I'm in." The firebender began tucking her jacket sleeve in to a better position and mumbled something about forgetting things, then she just opened her jacket and tossed it aside. Under the jacket she wore a simple white shirt that had only one sleeve to cover the stump of her arm. "So, who wants a handicap for their team?" Though Liang was quite self-conscious about her handicap she wasn't above jesting about it at this point. When someone mentioned cheating the firebender tensed up a bit - quite noticeably actually, but atleast she managed to keep her cool - though her voice was ever so slightly strained. "No need to worry about cheating on my part, just warning you. If anyone tries something fishy they got me to contend with." Liang pointed herself with her thumb and tried to look intimidating. Then she smirked excitedly and coughed "Oh, where are my manners!" Liang shook her head a bit before taking a goofy little pose. "I'm Liang Xian! The captain of the Legendary Lion-turtles!"</s>	<\|message\|>Bon Xiu "Nice to meet you, Liang." said Wes. "I'll team up with you. And don't worry, we don't cheat. So, you're fire? I'm Earth. We should make a good team." He was purposely ignoring her missing arm. Min stepped forward. "Actually, Wes, I think I need the practice. I'll go up against her, if you'll let me." Wes nodded. "Sure, that'll work. We'll go get ready." They moved the equipment around in their practice area, getting it ready. When they were done, Min stood in her starter position. "We're ready." Said Wes.</s>
<\|description\|>Crum Age: 26 Attire/Apperance: Bald, however has a tattoo of a facemask on his scalp. Has tattoos of two daggers on both of his forearms. He wears cloth under leather armor (his forearms are bare), and has cloth padded boots. Most of his attire is meant for stealth. Otherwise his face has a scar on his right cheek. About 5'6, 150 lbs his build is what you would expect of a man who clawed his way out of the trash. Race: Human Gender: Male Occupation: Assassin Location: South End/Slums A Brief History: Born in the streets of the slums, Crum had no name until he was nearly 5 years old. Spending his life grovelling and begging for scraps of rotten food in the alleyways he hadn't a need for one. He decided on the name "Crum" because a passerby once told him he was a crumb. Not knowing any language he simply took it as what he was supposed to be called. Around the age of 14 Crum was too old, too beaten, too dirty to receive any real help from the poor folk of the slums; besides, he had lived through 'childhood', unlike most of the other kids he had known. Being that old meant that he had to find a way to scrape together the means of living. Over the next 2 years Crum lived a life of theft, stealing his way to meals, and a place to sleep. When he was 16 a man put enough money for a meal the size of his last 30 meals in his hand along with a small shank; he was told to kill a man. Crum obliged. Crum also found his innate magical abilities at this time. Eventually, Crum became an assassin for hire in the underground world. Garnering enough money to afford clothes, food, and weapons to aid in his career. Other: Possesses an ability that lets Crum hide items as tattoos. Has a limited pool of magical energy to unhide/hide items. The larger the item the more energy it takes. Generally 'unsheathing' one dagger, and putting on his facemask take about the same amount of energy. He can probably do about 20 of these 'one way transactions' per day. (please help me find a better verb for un-tattooing and tattooing items) Extremely skilled in stealth and speed. His close range combat with his 2-dagger style has much to improve on, however is still quite skilled with them.</s> <\|message\|>Scarlet It was the beginning of another day in the city. The night shift had ended just hours ago, and the morning shift workers were making their way to work. Many of those workers were human, and were forced to walk. If they were lucky, they may have had a bicycle with which to reach their destination. Others fortunately lived near or on site of their work place, and so were lucky, as the metropolis was large indeed. The rest of the many species of the city however were, mostly, given privilege to modes of transportation such as high-speed electronic highways, trollies, even hovering vehicles that could soar through the skies. But not the humans. For here in this city, despite it's location on Earth as one of the few standing civilizations, Humanity was on the bottom rung, the lowest block of the totem pole, society's mud crawlers. Nearly five thousand years ago, more or less, humanity was at it's peak- flying cars provided to the masses, space colonization was on the brink of discovery, and the governments were stable in their positions as the highest order. But war was still rampant, poverty, famine, still all too common. The world was slowly dying, and the true reason for movement to space was revealed; nuclear war was all too likely to happen at any given moment. But it did not happen. Apparently humanity was close to destroying the Earth, for the Gods themselves came to it's salvation. The war was swift, if war it could be called. Over fifty percent of humans were killed, their cities ravaged, and the rest enslaved. Earth was reborn, it's wounds healed in an instant, and what was left of humanity was forced to build grand cities. Not for themselves, but for those who would now inherit the Earth. For when Man was overthrown, those creatures who lived in secrecy, in hiding, came back into life as if they had always been, creatures from old wives tales so called fictional, and even things that were not imagined save in dream or nightmare. The primary city that was built was Enigma. While three quarters of the city were built with all that man had achieved, and even more by secrets the Gods now revealed to the builders, the fourth was constructed as the cities of old, made of stone and brick, but not a shred of technology to be found. For they were quite closely monitored when constructing this quarter, the one they were destined to live within. Punishment for the enslaved, for the enslavement so long held over the Earth. The Gods ruled with an iron fist for one thousand years, as more and more so called Mythical creatures sprung up around the globe, and migrated to the few cities; most made their way to Enigma. In time, the gods decided that rule over humanity should belong not to them, but rather to those that had been forced into hiding so long ago. And so, the Hierarchy of the Elders was created, and those that led were chosen, either by the Gods themselves, or by the people of the city. It has been four thousand years since the gods departed, leaving the world in the care of the Hierarchy. More creatures have continued to make their appearance, even entirely Alien species in some cases. But Humanity has not been idle. An organization, dubbed Chaos, had arisen in the years of the Hierarchy's rule. While open warfare was scarce, the Humans continued to fight a war of espionage, subtlety, and sabotage against the ruling body of their city. The ultimate goal, was to reclaim the rights they once had over the planet, starting with Enigma. So it was, another day. The nocturnal creatures were now going off to their respective homes, and there was a brief period where the city lay comparatively quite, then it is alive once more with creatures of many different species moving to and fro, conducting their business. There were few clouds, the sun was rising over the entertainment district, and, for most, it was a beautiful day, full of promise. For others, it was simply another day of plotting, preparation, and shady dealings. It was another day, in the city of Enigma.</s> <\|message\|>Astirith The slums. The worst place of modern society. It was the place where the 'weak' were kept. It was sad really. Here was where humans were harassed the most. They were poor, street rats. None were there to pity them except each other. Astirith didn't like the place. It looked pathetic compared to the others cities and such. Even the wastelands beyond the cities looked nicer than this at times. Astirith sat at a table inside a bar. His wings wrapped around him to hide his stature and appearance. Astirith often found himself in a bar. It wasn't because he was a drinker but because this was the most likely place for harassment to take place. It was early and he was sure people would come in the get a drink to take a bit of the pressure off. Astirith looked around to see if anything was going on. A few demons walked in and began to make trouble. They always did, they were demons, there wasn't a reason for them to not think they were better. Demons were powerful compared to most races the inhabited the earth, their demonic Magic gave them a great advantage too. One demon grabbed a man and tossed him from his seat. "You're in my seat meat puppet." Meat puppet. A common term here. Humans were slaves and often didn't pull the strings around here...or anywhere for that reason. The demon walked up to the human and lifted him up. Another punch crossed the humans face as he fell again. Astirith stood up from behind them and made his move. A sword pierced the demons heart. His body burned a bit as the blade pierced his heart. His body dropped as the two occompaning demons faced Astirith. "You just signed your death sentence puppet." The demon said aloud. Astirith's wings unfolded. A holy light shined creating a radiant glow. The demons looked on shocked. "An angel? How is..thi- this possible. Your kind left long ago." One demon said nervously. "I guess not all of us." Astirith said in a chilling voice. "You fools forget...you may be free to wander the earth but you are not free of sin. I can punish you for your crimes against God or you can never come back. Now grab your friends Caracas and make a choice. The demons picked up their dead friend and fled the scene. Astirith sheathed his blade. His wings folded around him forming a cloak. He turned around and began to walk out the bar and leave the area. He wasn't to leave the slums but to find a private place to pray and atone for his sins.</s>	<\|message\|>Crum =The Slums= The Sinner's Alley. A small tavern where the crooked of the slums sometimes gathered. Broken tables and chairs lined the sides of the room, with whatever furniture that was still usable assembled neatly in the middle. A few men in tattered clothes sat at the bar conversing with the tavern owner about rumors the whispers of the dark. In the corner near the entrance sat a figure in a black cloak, illuminated by the morning sun. A half full dirty mug of pale beer that had long since gone flat sat on the table in front of him, along with a small cloth pouch of coin. This was a human, long since left in the wake of the coming of the creatures of myth and legend. Old gods long ago sentenced humans to the bleak role of slave, insect, tool. This man had no need, nor faith in such gods. This man's name was Crum. Postured in his seat as if he were comfortable in the dark, musty room. As though he were enjoying his morning 'brew' Crum listened, half interested, to the chatter taking place at the bar. "I'm telling you, you're better off here.", the tavern keeper said flatly to one man. "And I'm telling you I've spent my days here in the shadows long enough. Doing nothing. Thinking nothing. Being nothing.", the man replied coldly. "I may become a slave, but at least I'll be surrounded by better than broken homes, people, and the creatures that stir here." "At least here you have free will." "What is free will if there is no life to it? Every single day I wander about with no aim, and find myself in the Junk Heaps. Then I sort through those with the rest of the nobodies and then take whatever I fend to the merchants. Whatever I get there I bring here, and give it to you." snorted the man, "And then I get to sit down to this.". The man gestured at the half-eaten, half-rotten bun sitting in front of him. "I would rather be a slave than continue being the trash that the higher society dumps here." Crum, long since understood that only a certain kind of man could upset the norms of the slums. A man of steel, forged in the fires of the cruel world they were sentenced to, and shaped by the unforgiving streets of the slums. A man who would fight, steal, or kill for the chance to continue living. He did not judge, or condemn the actions of this man who would give up his freedoms to not care for his own shelter, food and clothing. However he knew that this man did not have the mettle to continue on down here in the slums. For that you must have a stronger mental fortitude. Crum was not interested in this conversation of freedoms and slavery, he was much more interested in the conversation between the two men at the far end of the bar who would occasionally look in his direction and continue muttering on. But Crum is a patient man, and sensed that eventually, they would come to him. "Until then...", he thought, as he took another sip of his beer, and enjoyed what he could, of the warm glow of the sun.</s>
<\|description\|>Hael Ecos Age: 18 Attire/Appearance: Hael is 5'6" with a thin, lean build. She weighs in at about 120 lbs. Race: Human Gender: Female Occupation: Slave Location: North End, in Zalek's section of the Elder's Lair A Brief History: Hael was born to Timothy and Sophie Ecos, two slaves that had fallen in love while under the same owner. That owner died as Hael was born, leaving in his will that the family was to be set free and to be paid for any further servitude. Her parents managed to buy a home, even advocating for human rights. They dabbled in the rebellion, but were captured soon after they began to become public disturbances. Hael was taken from them when she was about 4 and auctioned as a slave to the rich in North End. She barely remembers her parents, but she does remember being taken from them. Her owner gave her a story that made her parents sound like foolish troublemakers in order to keep Hael from questioning the law. Other: Has hidden elemental magic. Hael can control light, but has recently been able to dabble in water magic. She has kept this magic a secret so far, knowing what slave owners do to humans with magic.</s> <\|message\|>Crum =The Slums= The Sinner's Alley. A small tavern where the crooked of the slums sometimes gathered. Broken tables and chairs lined the sides of the room, with whatever furniture that was still usable assembled neatly in the middle. A few men in tattered clothes sat at the bar conversing with the tavern owner about rumors the whispers of the dark. In the corner near the entrance sat a figure in a black cloak, illuminated by the morning sun. A half full dirty mug of pale beer that had long since gone flat sat on the table in front of him, along with a small cloth pouch of coin. This was a human, long since left in the wake of the coming of the creatures of myth and legend. Old gods long ago sentenced humans to the bleak role of slave, insect, tool. This man had no need, nor faith in such gods. This man's name was Crum. Postured in his seat as if he were comfortable in the dark, musty room. As though he were enjoying his morning 'brew' Crum listened, half interested, to the chatter taking place at the bar. "I'm telling you, you're better off here.", the tavern keeper said flatly to one man. "And I'm telling you I've spent my days here in the shadows long enough. Doing nothing. Thinking nothing. Being nothing.", the man replied coldly. "I may become a slave, but at least I'll be surrounded by better than broken homes, people, and the creatures that stir here." "At least here you have free will." "What is free will if there is no life to it? Every single day I wander about with no aim, and find myself in the Junk Heaps. Then I sort through those with the rest of the nobodies and then take whatever I fend to the merchants. Whatever I get there I bring here, and give it to you." snorted the man, "And then I get to sit down to this.". The man gestured at the half-eaten, half-rotten bun sitting in front of him. "I would rather be a slave than continue being the trash that the higher society dumps here." Crum, long since understood that only a certain kind of man could upset the norms of the slums. A man of steel, forged in the fires of the cruel world they were sentenced to, and shaped by the unforgiving streets of the slums. A man who would fight, steal, or kill for the chance to continue living. He did not judge, or condemn the actions of this man who would give up his freedoms to not care for his own shelter, food and clothing. However he knew that this man did not have the mettle to continue on down here in the slums. For that you must have a stronger mental fortitude. Crum was not interested in this conversation of freedoms and slavery, he was much more interested in the conversation between the two men at the far end of the bar who would occasionally look in his direction and continue muttering on. But Crum is a patient man, and sensed that eventually, they would come to him. "Until then...", he thought, as he took another sip of his beer, and enjoyed what he could, of the warm glow of the sun.</s> <\|message\|>Zalek "Tell us what you know and we will end your life painlessly!" Zalek barely felt the blow that struck his face, in fact he had not really felt it at all just a mere blade of grass touching his skin in the end. However he moved his head with the blow and made it look as if these Chaos lackeys were damaging him, each blow he made small changes to his appearance to make it look as if they were harming him. It was sad however that with all their threats they truly did not know that the one they were punching was playing them like the weak minded fools they were. Zalek moved his hands idly as they were bound with rope behind him on the small wooden chair they had tied him to. He made sure not to move them too much for he did not want to accidentally break the rope before the right time. It was hard to contain his strength when he was bound by these weak human inventions, out of them all rope was of the weakest to restrain him, but they didn't know that, why would they, after all, they were still under the assumption that he was a human. It amazed him how low the intelligence of these humans was, in fact he did not understand how this group called Chaos had lasted this long. Then again their leader had alluded them time and time again, so he had to at least give them a couple props for that. If it wasn't for the fact that their leader always escaped he wouldn't even have to be here right now, entertaining the thought of himself being tortured to these fools. So far the plan had gone accordingly which had been easy enough, he himself visiting the slums to supposedly spit upon the slaves who stayed there, an then these Chaos lackeys who had found out about his plans from their mole in the city would swoop in to capture him. They killed the slaves who had been escorting him, never realizing they were in fact slaves. Then again maybe they did realize it and did not care, him being the target either way, but alas it made no difference in the end. It was too bad that their little mole had already been dispatched by way of execution unknowing to them, and that Zalek had sent his own subject Srix disguised as the mole to tell them his travel plans. They never did learn that they could not fool Zalek with their infiltrators, and soon they were going to learn that lesson the hard way. Zalek watched as the Chaos lackey punched him in the stomach, he fake heaved and went forward a little to continue the illusion as the man waved his hand hurt from the hard blow he made. "This bastard ain't talking, we should just kill him and get it over with. There is no other use for him, and at least in the end we will have struck a great blow against the Elders." "No we need him alive we can ransom him back to the Elders, we can bring them too their knee's with him as our prisoner." "Thats right! We could be hero's among Chaos! I can't believe our planned worked so well these Elder's for all their power truly have no brains." Zalek listened to the humans speak their plans so openly as if they truly believed that they could bring the Elder's to their knee's with him as a prisoner. Even if he was a prisoner the Elder's would never make a deal, that was the way it went, a new Elder would be chosen if one died. But these fools did not know that for the current Elder's did not require replacement yet. Zalek shook his head realizing these low level lackey's would not provide him with the information he seeked, it seemed that they were just working for themselves, and that this entire charade was a waste of time. However it was possible that these two idiots could have useful information so he would just capture them and end this. Zalek had grown tired of the shape he had assumed to be captured, the shape that these humans only ever saw him as. It was a sad but true fact that the human resistance did not know his true form, whenever he found himself in public or around the eye's of anyone besides the other Elders or those he trusted, he took the appearance of a weak old man, the perfect target for these humans. They had a thing for going after the weakest looking Elder, something he had learned well early on, and it worked well. Zalek was silent as he slowly pulled his hands apart and broke the rope around his wrists, they had not bother to tether him fully seeming they thought he just an old man. That would be their fatal mistake even thought fully restraining him would have played out to the same conclusion. As the two men finished conversion about their plans and their hero status they turned as they walked back to Zalek, pulling what appeared to be a dirty nap sack the first man came to cover his head like they had when they captured him. However Zalek brought his hands forward in front of him as he grabbed the first mans hand and squeezed it, there was a sick crack of bones as the man screamed loudly, Zalek pulled him in at fast speed as he brought his head forward and slammed his skull into the mans head knocking him back, he was unconscious almost immediately as Zalek stood up, the other man had already ran for the door and opened it. As he opened it however Srix was standing in it, his eye's flashing with cold fury. The man tried to punch Srix but he caught the attack and brought the mans arm sideways slamming it into the crease of the wall, it broke with a loud snap as the skin was pierced by broken bone. The man opened his mouth to scream but Srix brought his hand up and covered his mouth with a large bowl like hand silencing him immediately. The man brought his hands up to try and remove Srix's hand but he was powerless to stop him, as his air was cut off he slowly passed out as Srix let him drop to the ground as Zalek stood up fully shaking his head at the two unconscious men. Walking over to the man Srix had knocked out he bent down silently as he looked at him, blood was already formed a puddle underneath him from his pierced arm. How was something so weak meant to survive? They would not last even a second on his home planet, their death's would be almost instantaneous. Zalek stood back up as Dagon entered the room silently and stood besides Srix. "Dagon grab the man behind me, Srix grab this one, were taking them back with us. Take them to interrogation center, make sure those wounds are taken care of I don't want them dead before there is a chance to torture them." "Yes Lord Zalek" Both men responded at the same time as they put a fist to their chest's and then each collected a man and threw them over their shoulders. Zalek sighed as he walked over to the corner and grabbed his discarded robe they had ripped from him when they arrived. Throwing it around his shoulders he put his hands through the arm holes as it flowed behind him before settling. Pulling the hood up slowly he covered his face as the face wounds disappeared into nothing. It was going to be another long day, but one way or another he was going to end this rebellion once and for all. Turned his back on the room he walked out of the dark secluded dirty surrounding and walked into the sunlight as his two bodyguards followed.</s>	<\|message\|>Hael Ecos Sun poured into the modern wing of the Elder's home as Hael pushed the curtains back from the almost floor to ceiling windows in the main room of Zalek's wing. "He always keeps it so dark in here," she muttered, preferring the warm light over the unnatural artificial light within the wing. She stood back with a smile and surveyed the bright room. With a satisfied nod, Hael moved to the closet under the stairs, pulling out her cleaning supplies. It was going to be another long day of dusting, vacuuming, mopping, and running errands for Zalek. She had already washed the dishes from the large breakfast Dagon and Srix had asked for. By the time they had left, she was up to her elbows in dishes and soap, scrubbing away at their dirty plates. The appetites of those two hardly awed her in the past few years. At around age 10 she had finally been deemed old enough to complete some of the more serious duties, like serving food to Zalek's men. On her first day she couldn't help but stare at the large men as they ate. Eight years later, she tried to busy herself with thinking of the poetry she had learned from Zalek's library. On most days, the two men barely spoke as they ate, but it wasn't always such a bore. Every now and then they would discuss news from the outside world. Hael always listened intently, although she never let them catch on. The politics and rising rebellions intrigued Hael more than she would admit. She could only hope that none of them had caught on to her eavesdroppings. Hael hummed quietly as she dusted off each room but Zalek's private room. It was the only one in the wing she wasn't allowed to enter. The ban from the room only made her even more curious about what secrets lay inside. She had only gotten peeks at the room over her time here, but none of them ever lasted longer than a second. Hael sighed softly as she finished dusting, moving on to vacuum. Afterwards, she mopped the hard floors in the wing. By the time she had finished, she expected Zalek and the other two back for lunch. She sat down with a sigh of relief, pushing her hair back from her face. Although she had been doing the same thing for years, she'd never gotten used to it. Perhaps she needed to slow down and relax instead of finishing early. The only reason she worked so hard was so she could have the time between lunch and dinner to read. Or perhaps it was her late nights outside in the city that made her so exhausted the next morning. Either way, she didn't have any other time to relax but at night and after her chores were done. After a few moments of rest, Hael stood and returned the cleaning supplies to the closet. She could only hope that something interesting had happened on Zalek's trip to the slums. Otherwise, she was sure that today would be slow and boring. As she waited for Zalek to return, she watered the plants in his wing.</s>
<\|description\|>Hael Ecos Age: 18 Attire/Appearance: Hael is 5'6" with a thin, lean build. She weighs in at about 120 lbs. Race: Human Gender: Female Occupation: Slave Location: North End, in Zalek's section of the Elder's Lair A Brief History: Hael was born to Timothy and Sophie Ecos, two slaves that had fallen in love while under the same owner. That owner died as Hael was born, leaving in his will that the family was to be set free and to be paid for any further servitude. Her parents managed to buy a home, even advocating for human rights. They dabbled in the rebellion, but were captured soon after they began to become public disturbances. Hael was taken from them when she was about 4 and auctioned as a slave to the rich in North End. She barely remembers her parents, but she does remember being taken from them. Her owner gave her a story that made her parents sound like foolish troublemakers in order to keep Hael from questioning the law. Other: Has hidden elemental magic. Hael can control light, but has recently been able to dabble in water magic. She has kept this magic a secret so far, knowing what slave owners do to humans with magic.</s> <\|message\|>Quick Fang "Milo Cash" Quick Fang, or better known as his adopted name Milo Cash sat reminiscing on old memories, but unlike most this sitting wasn't sitting. It was more hanging upside down shirtless, off of the balcony about 127 floors off the ground well above the highway below enjoying the view and danger as one slip led to certain doom. In the old days dangling like this was common but normally it wasn't as high and was just thugs holding you up instead of a metal bar meant to keep you from falling. (This specific tower Milo liked due to it bringing back older style instead of ever updating looks of future it brought it back to simpler 2010's styles) "Guess since im reminiscing so much might as well go see what's up in the old neighborhood, maybe I'll see Nimble Tongue [one of the few other tibbits Milo ever met as they aren rare but are aldo considered low like humans but with more privileges.] That'd be an interesting time," he said as he started pulling himself up into his apartment. "Track system on, play current," Milo mever stopped listening to music especially music of early 2000's. "Track start:artist:Blink 182:currentsong:Adam's Song" the machine said in a sweet female voice causing Milo to just sigh. He was lonely at this point, a famous Tibbit who fought his way to stardom and yet, here he is alone with no one by his side. "I'll go down to the slums that's a good idea," he thought as he called his manager. "Yo man, I ain't exactly thinking I can cool it today. I'm gonna go down to the slums for a bit. I'll hit you once I'm back" "What!? You can't go down there the-- click" "Thanks big man" And with that Milo was on his way, off to the slums to see his old life. Arriving there he quickly became a sleek gray cat, with black front paws.</s> <\|message\|>Zalek "Bring them both Dagon, Srix get them in here." Zalek was subtle as he entered into his private wing, his two bodyguards were in tow the rebels from Chaos fully awake now and they were none too happy screaming and making a huge fuss. Zalek had decided that the interrogation wing was a waste of time, no he captured these two fools and he would be the one to interrogate them, after all he was the one overseer of interrogation anyways. It was one of his soul purposes to get information, a job he was extremely good at given his time as Master of Discipline back on his home planet. As The door closed behind them the men continued to scream profanity at all of them as their attempts to struggle were meant with strong painful grips from Dagon and Srix. "Drop them both, let them go." Zalek was silent as he crossed his arms and watched the two Chaos rebels drop to the ground, they both quickly gained their feet as they backed away from them, just like most cornered animals did. Zalek silently removed his hood as he gave it to Dagon who took it and stood nearby silently with Srix. Zalek moved forward as he approached the two rebels who had no place to go now. "Get back!!" One of the men yelled loudly as they quickly grabbed a near by vase dumping the contents on the floor and brandishing it in their hands as a weapon. Zalek shook his head at the man as he did not appreciate the mess he had just made, even these fools must realize that they were not going to escape. "Srix grab him will you." Srix nodded as he move forward to collect the man however the man screamed at Zalek making him put his hand up stopping Srix. "Yeah that's right have your flunkies subdue us, you Elders are weak can't even do your own dirty work. You gotta get others to get their hands dirty because you think your so much better then us! Your just wannabe figure heads that's why your gonna fall to Chaos!" Zalek was silent as he looked at the man with emotionless eye's, moving his fingers he motioned for Srix to fall back as he lowered his hand and reached down, unzipping his black jacket he silently removed it from his body revealing the emaciated looking ribs beneath, the old body he had assumed when he captured them. Giving the jacket to Dagon he walked forward as he stood in front of the two rebels. Slowing putting his arms out his body began to bubble almost as if was coming to a full boil, his body began to almost instantly change, the hair on his head slowly receded back in as his facial features changed at the same time, closing his eye's his arms and chest started to bulge out with muscle as the emaciated old man slowly transformed into a muscular male who looked about fifty. As the features finished taking place his head sprouted super short dark hair as his chin grew dark hair. His entire body changed before the two rebels who stood in horror and shock, Zalek slowly opened his eye's as they were a deep shade of red, his eye's were now fierce and bone chilling as he glared at the two rebels the old weak looking man now replaced by his true appearance. "What the hell! He just changed his appearance!" Zalek lowered his arms as the rebels began to freak out from his transformation, however he had heard enough of their words, at a neck break speed his crossed the room in seconds as he grabbed the man with the vase and gripped him by the throat and picked him up then slammed him into the ground with a loud thud. "Holy shit!" The other man screamed in pure fear he tried to turned and hightail it in the opposite direction but Zalek crossed the distance to him in mere seconds as he grabbed him by the back of the neck with a bowl sized hand. Squeezing the man let out a yelp as Zalek picked him up off his feet. Turning his tossed the man like a rag doll watching him smack the ground next to his friend. Zalek lowered his hands as he slowly made his way across the room to Dagon, taking his black jacket he slowly put it back on an zipped it back up as he then turned his attention back to the Rebels. Walking to them he slowly knelt down as they were both in obvious pain. "You know I get real tired of you Chaos lackeys and your words of heroics. You fight this battle against us Elders and you give yourself false hope that one day you will win. You merely show your lack of insight, your lack of intelligence. What will you do now that your powerless? What will you do now in the face of adversity? You will give up because your fake reality is crashing down. I have watched many men like you crumble, they cried and begged for their pathetic lives!" Zalek reached down and picked up both men one in each hand and slammed them into the wall behind them at the same time as they both opened their mouths in pain letting out a weak scream. "You don't care who you have to kill to get what you want... your so busy trying to gain a foothold some sort of elevation above the Elders that your forsake everything else. Would it shock you to know that the men and woman who were with me today escorting me in the slums were slaves dressed in disguise? That the lives you took were the lives of the same men and woman your pathetic rebellion is fighting to free and to protect! Of course you wouldn't because all you truly care about is trying to find some kind of freedom in a world that no longer belongs to you! You humans had your chance, and what did you do? You forsaken yourselves and nearly destroyed the entire world with your stupidity. You fight for a freedom you don't deserve, you get angry because we control you like children yet when you had freedom... you killed each other, raped each other, destroyed each other on nothing more then difference in belief." Zalek brought his face close to the two rebels as he tightened his grip on their necks forcing them to open their eye's and look into his own chilling glare. "I watched this world crumble for years, staying in the shadows, watching you destroy your own brothers and sisters. You humans are nothing more then animals who will turn on each other the moment when it suits your purpose. Thats why the Gods decided to enslave you and give us the power to rule over you. Thats why you will never win... thats why you will always be slaves... because you don't deserve anything more!" Zalek turned and threw both of them men to the floor as they slid little ways, both of them started to slowly cry from fear or pain Zalek did not care. "Take them to my private chamber, I will be along shortly to interrogate them." Both Srix and Dagon put their fist to their chest and nodded as they quickly collected the two men and disappeared into the next room. "Hael come here please." Zalek called for his servant as he silently waited for her to arrive.</s> <\|message\|>Voltrex Voltrex wiped off the blood from his face in disgust as he grumbled to himself. The new recruits that he was supposed to be training were as stubborn as the last recruits they had. He had taken the recruits after their training to a simple raiding mission of a supply truck going to the North End. One recruit decided to take it upon himself as the leader of the mission, but that ended in everyone being killed by the guards of the truck. Voltrex himself barely got out of there alive. He stopped off by his quarters and took a quick shower and changed before heading to Varin's office to report the incident. "Voltrex, how did the mission go?" asked Varin's informant who leaned against the wall sipping a unknown liquid from a mug that looked to have existed long ago. "It could have gone better." Voltrex shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes as well. He didn't want to mention that the recruits had died on the mission. It goes on his record and he'd rather keep that between himself and Varin. "Did anyone die?" the informant asked. "Yes." "How many?" "Classified." Voltrex turned away, ending the conversation as he continued his way to the large double doors of Varins office. He knocked on the office, checking to see if the informant had followed, but the said person was no where to be seen.</s> <\|message\|>Varin Hains Silence. How Varin hated it. He had just recently slipped under the radar, keeping Chaos from leaping off a building and right into the Elder's arms. Just a few of the members managed to be captured, eventually those numbers would be increased if they didn't act soon. And Varin knew that you can't have a rebellion without rebels. Varin was sitting at a desk, drinking in the dark. He scratched his head as he stared down at a device, he was looking at a blueprint he had managed to collect. It showed every street and building in the North End. He traced his finger lightly on the screen surveying the area before he closed the map and looked at one of Enigma as a whole. He sighed before closing that map and turning the device off and slipping it in his pocket. Varin yawned propping his head against his palm. He stared at his office door waiting in the dark. His head dropped several times before he finally gave in and let it fall, dozing off. Moments later he was brought back sharply by the sound of a loud knock. "Come in," he said straightening and pushing a button on his desk which brought the lights on.</s>	<\|message\|>Hael Ecos Hael had just finished watering a pretty little fern in the library when the sound of the front door opening caught her attention. She gripped the pitcher, tensing when she heard the shouts and curses of two foreign men. Zalek must have brought his work home with him. It was most likely to do with the slums, too. She snuck to the door and slowly cracked it open. Through the tiny crack, she could see the two large guards setting the two clearly upset men down. She remembered the first time that Zalek had brought one of his prisoner's home. The terrifying experience was one she did not want to remember. Especially since she was sure she would see the scene be repeated now. It wasn't going to be pleasant, but she had to watch and see what happens until her curiosity was sated. Hael gasped softly when the man dashed for the vase and dumped the contents, shutting the door just a little more so she wouldn't be seen. She watched intently, wondering what the man would do next. Surely the vase wouldn't be much help against Zalek or his two men. Hael watched as Srix approached, biting her lip nervously. She shook her head a little as the defensive man insulted Zalek. It was always a bad move to insult an elder. She didn't want these men to go through anymore pain than Zalek had planned for them already. She watched closely as Zalek transformed back into his usual shape. The frail, old man was now a powerful, dangerous one. She pitied the men. Their pain would come very soon. Zalek crossed the room swiftly and dealt with the men. Hael felt her heartbeat rise as the situation suddenly frightened her. She flinched when the man dropped the vase out of fright, listening to the crash and clatter of the fragile glass. She felt her stomach knot at the sound. Zalek would want her to clean it up as soon as possible, which meant that she would have to be around him when he was worked up. She never knew what to expect from him after he had treated other humans this way. Mostly he was collected, but predicting his attitudes and decisions was impossible. Hael shut the door as quietly as she could, resting her head against the wall next to it as she tried to calm her racing heart. She heard the grunts of the men outside, making her cringe in sympathy. She could only wait for Zalek to finish and carry them away to his private room. The grunts soon subsided, slowly turning into groans of pain. She let out a small breath of relief, glad that Zalek had finished teaching them some obedience. She pressed her back to the wall, hoping Zalek would send Srix or Dagon to fetch her after he was in his room with the prisoners. She took slow, deep breaths to calm herself down as she heard Dagon and Srix take them away. "Hael, come here, please," Zalek said, causing her to tense lightly. She swallowed and fixed her hair and dress, taking one last deep breath before she turned to the door. She slowly released the breath before opening the door. She stepped out of the room, walking quietly over to Zalek. "Yes, Sir?" Hael asked, glancing at the mess the man had made. She hoped this would be done quickly to spare her of any more nervousness.</s>
<\|description\|>Voltrex Age: 19 Appearance: Race: Human Gender: Male Occupation: Chaos Member Location: West End Brief History: Mother was a slave before she escaped after meeting the love of her pathetic life. They move to the slums and attempted to lie low. Lying low worked well until Voltrex's father met a member of chaos. Working with chaos he was a very active member. Being too active lead to their demise. A two year old Voltrex was given to a member of chaos to prevent total enslavement. Voltrex's were killed: his father was charged with a form of high treason and his wife was his accomplice. Voltrex grew up in chaos, learning firsthand the evils of the elders. Through his youth he was loyal to the group and worked his way towards the Innercircle wanting to avenge his parents death and prevent others. Other: He has the ability to control partial electrical currents.But he has to be near a source .</s> <\|message\|>Hael Ecos Sun poured into the modern wing of the Elder's home as Hael pushed the curtains back from the almost floor to ceiling windows in the main room of Zalek's wing. "He always keeps it so dark in here," she muttered, preferring the warm light over the unnatural artificial light within the wing. She stood back with a smile and surveyed the bright room. With a satisfied nod, Hael moved to the closet under the stairs, pulling out her cleaning supplies. It was going to be another long day of dusting, vacuuming, mopping, and running errands for Zalek. She had already washed the dishes from the large breakfast Dagon and Srix had asked for. By the time they had left, she was up to her elbows in dishes and soap, scrubbing away at their dirty plates. The appetites of those two hardly awed her in the past few years. At around age 10 she had finally been deemed old enough to complete some of the more serious duties, like serving food to Zalek's men. On her first day she couldn't help but stare at the large men as they ate. Eight years later, she tried to busy herself with thinking of the poetry she had learned from Zalek's library. On most days, the two men barely spoke as they ate, but it wasn't always such a bore. Every now and then they would discuss news from the outside world. Hael always listened intently, although she never let them catch on. The politics and rising rebellions intrigued Hael more than she would admit. She could only hope that none of them had caught on to her eavesdroppings. Hael hummed quietly as she dusted off each room but Zalek's private room. It was the only one in the wing she wasn't allowed to enter. The ban from the room only made her even more curious about what secrets lay inside. She had only gotten peeks at the room over her time here, but none of them ever lasted longer than a second. Hael sighed softly as she finished dusting, moving on to vacuum. Afterwards, she mopped the hard floors in the wing. By the time she had finished, she expected Zalek and the other two back for lunch. She sat down with a sigh of relief, pushing her hair back from her face. Although she had been doing the same thing for years, she'd never gotten used to it. Perhaps she needed to slow down and relax instead of finishing early. The only reason she worked so hard was so she could have the time between lunch and dinner to read. Or perhaps it was her late nights outside in the city that made her so exhausted the next morning. Either way, she didn't have any other time to relax but at night and after her chores were done. After a few moments of rest, Hael stood and returned the cleaning supplies to the closet. She could only hope that something interesting had happened on Zalek's trip to the slums. Otherwise, she was sure that today would be slow and boring. As she waited for Zalek to return, she watered the plants in his wing.</s> <\|message\|>Quick Fang "Milo Cash" Quick Fang, or better known as his adopted name Milo Cash sat reminiscing on old memories, but unlike most this sitting wasn't sitting. It was more hanging upside down shirtless, off of the balcony about 127 floors off the ground well above the highway below enjoying the view and danger as one slip led to certain doom. In the old days dangling like this was common but normally it wasn't as high and was just thugs holding you up instead of a metal bar meant to keep you from falling. (This specific tower Milo liked due to it bringing back older style instead of ever updating looks of future it brought it back to simpler 2010's styles) "Guess since im reminiscing so much might as well go see what's up in the old neighborhood, maybe I'll see Nimble Tongue [one of the few other tibbits Milo ever met as they aren rare but are aldo considered low like humans but with more privileges.] That'd be an interesting time," he said as he started pulling himself up into his apartment. "Track system on, play current," Milo mever stopped listening to music especially music of early 2000's. "Track start:artist:Blink 182:currentsong:Adam's Song" the machine said in a sweet female voice causing Milo to just sigh. He was lonely at this point, a famous Tibbit who fought his way to stardom and yet, here he is alone with no one by his side. "I'll go down to the slums that's a good idea," he thought as he called his manager. "Yo man, I ain't exactly thinking I can cool it today. I'm gonna go down to the slums for a bit. I'll hit you once I'm back" "What!? You can't go down there the-- click" "Thanks big man" And with that Milo was on his way, off to the slums to see his old life. Arriving there he quickly became a sleek gray cat, with black front paws.</s> <\|message\|>Zalek "Bring them both Dagon, Srix get them in here." Zalek was subtle as he entered into his private wing, his two bodyguards were in tow the rebels from Chaos fully awake now and they were none too happy screaming and making a huge fuss. Zalek had decided that the interrogation wing was a waste of time, no he captured these two fools and he would be the one to interrogate them, after all he was the one overseer of interrogation anyways. It was one of his soul purposes to get information, a job he was extremely good at given his time as Master of Discipline back on his home planet. As The door closed behind them the men continued to scream profanity at all of them as their attempts to struggle were meant with strong painful grips from Dagon and Srix. "Drop them both, let them go." Zalek was silent as he crossed his arms and watched the two Chaos rebels drop to the ground, they both quickly gained their feet as they backed away from them, just like most cornered animals did. Zalek silently removed his hood as he gave it to Dagon who took it and stood nearby silently with Srix. Zalek moved forward as he approached the two rebels who had no place to go now. "Get back!!" One of the men yelled loudly as they quickly grabbed a near by vase dumping the contents on the floor and brandishing it in their hands as a weapon. Zalek shook his head at the man as he did not appreciate the mess he had just made, even these fools must realize that they were not going to escape. "Srix grab him will you." Srix nodded as he move forward to collect the man however the man screamed at Zalek making him put his hand up stopping Srix. "Yeah that's right have your flunkies subdue us, you Elders are weak can't even do your own dirty work. You gotta get others to get their hands dirty because you think your so much better then us! Your just wannabe figure heads that's why your gonna fall to Chaos!" Zalek was silent as he looked at the man with emotionless eye's, moving his fingers he motioned for Srix to fall back as he lowered his hand and reached down, unzipping his black jacket he silently removed it from his body revealing the emaciated looking ribs beneath, the old body he had assumed when he captured them. Giving the jacket to Dagon he walked forward as he stood in front of the two rebels. Slowing putting his arms out his body began to bubble almost as if was coming to a full boil, his body began to almost instantly change, the hair on his head slowly receded back in as his facial features changed at the same time, closing his eye's his arms and chest started to bulge out with muscle as the emaciated old man slowly transformed into a muscular male who looked about fifty. As the features finished taking place his head sprouted super short dark hair as his chin grew dark hair. His entire body changed before the two rebels who stood in horror and shock, Zalek slowly opened his eye's as they were a deep shade of red, his eye's were now fierce and bone chilling as he glared at the two rebels the old weak looking man now replaced by his true appearance. "What the hell! He just changed his appearance!" Zalek lowered his arms as the rebels began to freak out from his transformation, however he had heard enough of their words, at a neck break speed his crossed the room in seconds as he grabbed the man with the vase and gripped him by the throat and picked him up then slammed him into the ground with a loud thud. "Holy shit!" The other man screamed in pure fear he tried to turned and hightail it in the opposite direction but Zalek crossed the distance to him in mere seconds as he grabbed him by the back of the neck with a bowl sized hand. Squeezing the man let out a yelp as Zalek picked him up off his feet. Turning his tossed the man like a rag doll watching him smack the ground next to his friend. Zalek lowered his hands as he slowly made his way across the room to Dagon, taking his black jacket he slowly put it back on an zipped it back up as he then turned his attention back to the Rebels. Walking to them he slowly knelt down as they were both in obvious pain. "You know I get real tired of you Chaos lackeys and your words of heroics. You fight this battle against us Elders and you give yourself false hope that one day you will win. You merely show your lack of insight, your lack of intelligence. What will you do now that your powerless? What will you do now in the face of adversity? You will give up because your fake reality is crashing down. I have watched many men like you crumble, they cried and begged for their pathetic lives!" Zalek reached down and picked up both men one in each hand and slammed them into the wall behind them at the same time as they both opened their mouths in pain letting out a weak scream. "You don't care who you have to kill to get what you want... your so busy trying to gain a foothold some sort of elevation above the Elders that your forsake everything else. Would it shock you to know that the men and woman who were with me today escorting me in the slums were slaves dressed in disguise? That the lives you took were the lives of the same men and woman your pathetic rebellion is fighting to free and to protect! Of course you wouldn't because all you truly care about is trying to find some kind of freedom in a world that no longer belongs to you! You humans had your chance, and what did you do? You forsaken yourselves and nearly destroyed the entire world with your stupidity. You fight for a freedom you don't deserve, you get angry because we control you like children yet when you had freedom... you killed each other, raped each other, destroyed each other on nothing more then difference in belief." Zalek brought his face close to the two rebels as he tightened his grip on their necks forcing them to open their eye's and look into his own chilling glare. "I watched this world crumble for years, staying in the shadows, watching you destroy your own brothers and sisters. You humans are nothing more then animals who will turn on each other the moment when it suits your purpose. Thats why the Gods decided to enslave you and give us the power to rule over you. Thats why you will never win... thats why you will always be slaves... because you don't deserve anything more!" Zalek turned and threw both of them men to the floor as they slid little ways, both of them started to slowly cry from fear or pain Zalek did not care. "Take them to my private chamber, I will be along shortly to interrogate them." Both Srix and Dagon put their fist to their chest and nodded as they quickly collected the two men and disappeared into the next room. "Hael come here please." Zalek called for his servant as he silently waited for her to arrive.</s>	<\|message\|>Voltrex Voltrex wiped off the blood from his face in disgust as he grumbled to himself. The new recruits that he was supposed to be training were as stubborn as the last recruits they had. He had taken the recruits after their training to a simple raiding mission of a supply truck going to the North End. One recruit decided to take it upon himself as the leader of the mission, but that ended in everyone being killed by the guards of the truck. Voltrex himself barely got out of there alive. He stopped off by his quarters and took a quick shower and changed before heading to Varin's office to report the incident. "Voltrex, how did the mission go?" asked Varin's informant who leaned against the wall sipping a unknown liquid from a mug that looked to have existed long ago. "It could have gone better." Voltrex shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes as well. He didn't want to mention that the recruits had died on the mission. It goes on his record and he'd rather keep that between himself and Varin. "Did anyone die?" the informant asked. "Yes." "How many?" "Classified." Voltrex turned away, ending the conversation as he continued his way to the large double doors of Varins office. He knocked on the office, checking to see if the informant had followed, but the said person was no where to be seen.</s>
<\|description\|>Varin Hains Age: 24 Attire/Appearance: 5' 8" and 155 lbs. He has athletic build. Race: Human Gender: Male Occupation: Leader of Chaos Location: East End A Brief History: Varin's mother and father were slaves until death. His parents managed to smuggle him into the arms of members of the Rebellion after his birth and before their slaughter. Varin grew up a trouble maker. He found it hard not to help anyone who needed it and in certain eyes it could be seen as defiance. He rose up, and took the place of the leader of this Rebellion after the disappearance and possible death of the old Leader.</s> <\|message\|>Hael Ecos Sun poured into the modern wing of the Elder's home as Hael pushed the curtains back from the almost floor to ceiling windows in the main room of Zalek's wing. "He always keeps it so dark in here," she muttered, preferring the warm light over the unnatural artificial light within the wing. She stood back with a smile and surveyed the bright room. With a satisfied nod, Hael moved to the closet under the stairs, pulling out her cleaning supplies. It was going to be another long day of dusting, vacuuming, mopping, and running errands for Zalek. She had already washed the dishes from the large breakfast Dagon and Srix had asked for. By the time they had left, she was up to her elbows in dishes and soap, scrubbing away at their dirty plates. The appetites of those two hardly awed her in the past few years. At around age 10 she had finally been deemed old enough to complete some of the more serious duties, like serving food to Zalek's men. On her first day she couldn't help but stare at the large men as they ate. Eight years later, she tried to busy herself with thinking of the poetry she had learned from Zalek's library. On most days, the two men barely spoke as they ate, but it wasn't always such a bore. Every now and then they would discuss news from the outside world. Hael always listened intently, although she never let them catch on. The politics and rising rebellions intrigued Hael more than she would admit. She could only hope that none of them had caught on to her eavesdroppings. Hael hummed quietly as she dusted off each room but Zalek's private room. It was the only one in the wing she wasn't allowed to enter. The ban from the room only made her even more curious about what secrets lay inside. She had only gotten peeks at the room over her time here, but none of them ever lasted longer than a second. Hael sighed softly as she finished dusting, moving on to vacuum. Afterwards, she mopped the hard floors in the wing. By the time she had finished, she expected Zalek and the other two back for lunch. She sat down with a sigh of relief, pushing her hair back from her face. Although she had been doing the same thing for years, she'd never gotten used to it. Perhaps she needed to slow down and relax instead of finishing early. The only reason she worked so hard was so she could have the time between lunch and dinner to read. Or perhaps it was her late nights outside in the city that made her so exhausted the next morning. Either way, she didn't have any other time to relax but at night and after her chores were done. After a few moments of rest, Hael stood and returned the cleaning supplies to the closet. She could only hope that something interesting had happened on Zalek's trip to the slums. Otherwise, she was sure that today would be slow and boring. As she waited for Zalek to return, she watered the plants in his wing.</s> <\|message\|>Quick Fang "Milo Cash" Quick Fang, or better known as his adopted name Milo Cash sat reminiscing on old memories, but unlike most this sitting wasn't sitting. It was more hanging upside down shirtless, off of the balcony about 127 floors off the ground well above the highway below enjoying the view and danger as one slip led to certain doom. In the old days dangling like this was common but normally it wasn't as high and was just thugs holding you up instead of a metal bar meant to keep you from falling. (This specific tower Milo liked due to it bringing back older style instead of ever updating looks of future it brought it back to simpler 2010's styles) "Guess since im reminiscing so much might as well go see what's up in the old neighborhood, maybe I'll see Nimble Tongue [one of the few other tibbits Milo ever met as they aren rare but are aldo considered low like humans but with more privileges.] That'd be an interesting time," he said as he started pulling himself up into his apartment. "Track system on, play current," Milo mever stopped listening to music especially music of early 2000's. "Track start:artist:Blink 182:currentsong:Adam's Song" the machine said in a sweet female voice causing Milo to just sigh. He was lonely at this point, a famous Tibbit who fought his way to stardom and yet, here he is alone with no one by his side. "I'll go down to the slums that's a good idea," he thought as he called his manager. "Yo man, I ain't exactly thinking I can cool it today. I'm gonna go down to the slums for a bit. I'll hit you once I'm back" "What!? You can't go down there the-- click" "Thanks big man" And with that Milo was on his way, off to the slums to see his old life. Arriving there he quickly became a sleek gray cat, with black front paws.</s> <\|message\|>Zalek "Bring them both Dagon, Srix get them in here." Zalek was subtle as he entered into his private wing, his two bodyguards were in tow the rebels from Chaos fully awake now and they were none too happy screaming and making a huge fuss. Zalek had decided that the interrogation wing was a waste of time, no he captured these two fools and he would be the one to interrogate them, after all he was the one overseer of interrogation anyways. It was one of his soul purposes to get information, a job he was extremely good at given his time as Master of Discipline back on his home planet. As The door closed behind them the men continued to scream profanity at all of them as their attempts to struggle were meant with strong painful grips from Dagon and Srix. "Drop them both, let them go." Zalek was silent as he crossed his arms and watched the two Chaos rebels drop to the ground, they both quickly gained their feet as they backed away from them, just like most cornered animals did. Zalek silently removed his hood as he gave it to Dagon who took it and stood nearby silently with Srix. Zalek moved forward as he approached the two rebels who had no place to go now. "Get back!!" One of the men yelled loudly as they quickly grabbed a near by vase dumping the contents on the floor and brandishing it in their hands as a weapon. Zalek shook his head at the man as he did not appreciate the mess he had just made, even these fools must realize that they were not going to escape. "Srix grab him will you." Srix nodded as he move forward to collect the man however the man screamed at Zalek making him put his hand up stopping Srix. "Yeah that's right have your flunkies subdue us, you Elders are weak can't even do your own dirty work. You gotta get others to get their hands dirty because you think your so much better then us! Your just wannabe figure heads that's why your gonna fall to Chaos!" Zalek was silent as he looked at the man with emotionless eye's, moving his fingers he motioned for Srix to fall back as he lowered his hand and reached down, unzipping his black jacket he silently removed it from his body revealing the emaciated looking ribs beneath, the old body he had assumed when he captured them. Giving the jacket to Dagon he walked forward as he stood in front of the two rebels. Slowing putting his arms out his body began to bubble almost as if was coming to a full boil, his body began to almost instantly change, the hair on his head slowly receded back in as his facial features changed at the same time, closing his eye's his arms and chest started to bulge out with muscle as the emaciated old man slowly transformed into a muscular male who looked about fifty. As the features finished taking place his head sprouted super short dark hair as his chin grew dark hair. His entire body changed before the two rebels who stood in horror and shock, Zalek slowly opened his eye's as they were a deep shade of red, his eye's were now fierce and bone chilling as he glared at the two rebels the old weak looking man now replaced by his true appearance. "What the hell! He just changed his appearance!" Zalek lowered his arms as the rebels began to freak out from his transformation, however he had heard enough of their words, at a neck break speed his crossed the room in seconds as he grabbed the man with the vase and gripped him by the throat and picked him up then slammed him into the ground with a loud thud. "Holy shit!" The other man screamed in pure fear he tried to turned and hightail it in the opposite direction but Zalek crossed the distance to him in mere seconds as he grabbed him by the back of the neck with a bowl sized hand. Squeezing the man let out a yelp as Zalek picked him up off his feet. Turning his tossed the man like a rag doll watching him smack the ground next to his friend. Zalek lowered his hands as he slowly made his way across the room to Dagon, taking his black jacket he slowly put it back on an zipped it back up as he then turned his attention back to the Rebels. Walking to them he slowly knelt down as they were both in obvious pain. "You know I get real tired of you Chaos lackeys and your words of heroics. You fight this battle against us Elders and you give yourself false hope that one day you will win. You merely show your lack of insight, your lack of intelligence. What will you do now that your powerless? What will you do now in the face of adversity? You will give up because your fake reality is crashing down. I have watched many men like you crumble, they cried and begged for their pathetic lives!" Zalek reached down and picked up both men one in each hand and slammed them into the wall behind them at the same time as they both opened their mouths in pain letting out a weak scream. "You don't care who you have to kill to get what you want... your so busy trying to gain a foothold some sort of elevation above the Elders that your forsake everything else. Would it shock you to know that the men and woman who were with me today escorting me in the slums were slaves dressed in disguise? That the lives you took were the lives of the same men and woman your pathetic rebellion is fighting to free and to protect! Of course you wouldn't because all you truly care about is trying to find some kind of freedom in a world that no longer belongs to you! You humans had your chance, and what did you do? You forsaken yourselves and nearly destroyed the entire world with your stupidity. You fight for a freedom you don't deserve, you get angry because we control you like children yet when you had freedom... you killed each other, raped each other, destroyed each other on nothing more then difference in belief." Zalek brought his face close to the two rebels as he tightened his grip on their necks forcing them to open their eye's and look into his own chilling glare. "I watched this world crumble for years, staying in the shadows, watching you destroy your own brothers and sisters. You humans are nothing more then animals who will turn on each other the moment when it suits your purpose. Thats why the Gods decided to enslave you and give us the power to rule over you. Thats why you will never win... thats why you will always be slaves... because you don't deserve anything more!" Zalek turned and threw both of them men to the floor as they slid little ways, both of them started to slowly cry from fear or pain Zalek did not care. "Take them to my private chamber, I will be along shortly to interrogate them." Both Srix and Dagon put their fist to their chest and nodded as they quickly collected the two men and disappeared into the next room. "Hael come here please." Zalek called for his servant as he silently waited for her to arrive.</s> <\|message\|>Voltrex Voltrex wiped off the blood from his face in disgust as he grumbled to himself. The new recruits that he was supposed to be training were as stubborn as the last recruits they had. He had taken the recruits after their training to a simple raiding mission of a supply truck going to the North End. One recruit decided to take it upon himself as the leader of the mission, but that ended in everyone being killed by the guards of the truck. Voltrex himself barely got out of there alive. He stopped off by his quarters and took a quick shower and changed before heading to Varin's office to report the incident. "Voltrex, how did the mission go?" asked Varin's informant who leaned against the wall sipping a unknown liquid from a mug that looked to have existed long ago. "It could have gone better." Voltrex shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes as well. He didn't want to mention that the recruits had died on the mission. It goes on his record and he'd rather keep that between himself and Varin. "Did anyone die?" the informant asked. "Yes." "How many?" "Classified." Voltrex turned away, ending the conversation as he continued his way to the large double doors of Varins office. He knocked on the office, checking to see if the informant had followed, but the said person was no where to be seen.</s>	<\|message\|>Varin Hains Silence. How Varin hated it. He had just recently slipped under the radar, keeping Chaos from leaping off a building and right into the Elder's arms. Just a few of the members managed to be captured, eventually those numbers would be increased if they didn't act soon. And Varin knew that you can't have a rebellion without rebels. Varin was sitting at a desk, drinking in the dark. He scratched his head as he stared down at a device, he was looking at a blueprint he had managed to collect. It showed every street and building in the North End. He traced his finger lightly on the screen surveying the area before he closed the map and looked at one of Enigma as a whole. He sighed before closing that map and turning the device off and slipping it in his pocket. Varin yawned propping his head against his palm. He stared at his office door waiting in the dark. His head dropped several times before he finally gave in and let it fall, dozing off. Moments later he was brought back sharply by the sound of a loud knock. "Come in," he said straightening and pushing a button on his desk which brought the lights on.</s>
<\|description\|>Press Dalton Alias: Paragon Age: 17 Personality: Kind-hearted and friendly, but he's not exactly a social person. He prefers to spend his time playing video games, working on various gadgets and what-not in his room, or exercising. However, he's still willing to engage in social activities with other people, albeit akwardly. Still a good guy to have with you, though. Powers: Controlling electronic machinery to an extent. He can short circuit them, cause them to function erratically, force them to ignore other outside stimuli, etc. He's also extraordinarily handy when dealing with electronics, and has created himself a robotic suit of armor to allow him to fight on par with his teammates. The suit itself contains a variety of gadgets and weapons. From his palms, he can fire white lasers, which can be fired as a single powerful shot that explodes when striking the target, or a continuous weaker beam that burns the target. On the backs of his hands, he can create energy blades that can slice through solid steel. His helmet contains a targeting system that will aid his accuracy when firing his lasers. On his back, he can construct a pair of wings, which are mostly cosmetic but will allow him to fly. His legs and arms contain shock absorbers that can cushion the impact of a fall should his wings get damaged. His suit is also capable of repairing itself over time, kinda like how a human body would heal its own wounds. However, this ability is limited, and will need external assistance in order to achieve a complete repair. Should the energy levels in his suit get low, it can then drain energy sources (batteries, generators, etc) in order to recharge itself by simply coming into contact. He has also created a bronze-colored robotic falcon named Horus. He is designed for surveillance, though, and isn't that good in a fight. Horus comes equipped with a cloaking feature, 360 degree field of view, and multiple lens filters that allow it to perform its duty. It is also capable of repairing itself over time. Its wings are also covered with solar panels to allow it to regain energy from the sun. Weakness: He only has the durability of a normal human. Bullets, bombs, anything dangerous can injure him, assuming it's powerful enough to get past his suit. He is also completely reliant on his armor and other machinery to be able to fight. Appearance: Bio: Born into a pretty average family, Press lived a rather boring life as a child. Did well in school, made a few friends to hang out with, and other usual things. When he was 6, though, he discovered his talent for electronics and tinkered with them whenever he could. As he got older, he got better and better at assembling and disassembling things, as well as making his own modifications to these devices whenever he could. However, things started to change after hitting his 10th birthday. Press noticed that some things tended to act a little unusual when he was around. Machines with screens (TV's, computers, cell phones, etc) sometimes flickered with static regardless of whether or not they were on or off, cars and motorbikes sometimes refused to start or failed while in the middle of the road, and other odd events. People began to notice that these events happened only around Press, and they started thinking it was strange. Naturally, when people see something they don't understand, they fear it. Even his own parents feared him and quickly abandoned him. Press was lucky, though, and put into an orphanage, but life was still tough. Other kids were tougher and strong than him. What could Press do? Figure out how to operate a VCR? Press knew that he had to grow up, and make sure people knew he wasn't a push over. A few years passed, and Press was actually able to make a decent living fixing broken gadgets and doing other little tasks. He had also discovered by that time that he had an extraordinary ability with electronics, and had learned to control it and harness it. His money accumulated, and Press began looking into certain things. He then acquired some raw materials and started his own personal project. A long period of time later, and Press finally created his robotic suit of armor. Arc Ideas: Not much so far. Perhaps just a few minor skirmishes in the city caused by the mundanes (those without powers) to start off with. Robberies, kidnappings, etc. Buuuuuuut I'm sure you've already thought of this.</s> <\|message\|>Jon Fawn Coast City, March 5,2020, 9:00AM "HEEEEEELP!" "Quiet, lady! Nobody's gonna help you here! You heard the news: Green Lantern is gone!" A thuggish, evil-smelling man in a gray hoodie clutched a purse in his hands. Judging by the screaming woman he was running away from, the purse probably wasn't his. The thug sprinted out the alleyway and rounded the corner before his victim could work up enough courage to chase after him. With fearful hatred in her heart, the woman escaped the alley and searched for the man who robbed her. Fortunately, she didn't have to look very far to find him. Unfortunately, the thug was looming not even a foot away from her, with a dead look in his eyes and a scowl on his face. Fury giving way to fear once again, the woman gasped and hesitated. The thug spoke in a voice that was very clearly not his own. For one, its tenor was a pitch lower. For another, it sounded like it was coming from within the bowels of a tin can. "I am sorry, miss. I've done a terrible thing. Please, take your purse back." The thug shakily reached forward, purse in hand, and presented it to the woman. Fear giving way to fury again again, the woman scowled and punched the thug in the face with a mighty THWACK! The thug didn't even flinch! "Please accept my apologies. Goodbye." At that, the thug sprinted away, kicking up a small cloud of dust. Normally this wouldn't be disconcerting, considering the speed at which he was running. The only suspicious thing was the fact that they were on the sidewalk. The woman stood flabbergasted as the low-hanging cloud of dust seemed to follow the thug's exodus. With a shrug, the woman looped her arm through her purse's string and went on her way, flustered but largely unharmed. That's one mugging gone right! Homefront thought to himself as he forced his thuggish host down 13th Street. I should get this boy a good ways away before I cut him loose. Wouldn't want him causing any more trouble for that lady! Five blocks away, at the picturesque coastside, Homefront decided to relinquish control. The thug scratched his head in bewilderment as consciousness came rushing back to him. He couldn't remember much, only how he'd been robbing some lady and... somehow ended up here. One thing stuck out in his mind, a statement: Robbing people for their money isn't a good way to make money. Go to a trade school or something and learn something marketable. With nothing else to do and a strange feeling that he'd just made a lucky break, the thug decided to call it a day.</s> <\|message\|>Sarah Donner What exactly happened in the last few moments were hard to identify. The weight of the ship suddenly left and in a daze Angel could only briefly make out who it may have been that saved them. But there was no time to think about it. Already she could barely keep aloft. There was no time to make for land, she would have to hope Sarah could handle swimming to shore. Diving down she began to slow when the energy gave out. The image of an angel faded away with the light and left behind a normal girl. Still twenty feet from the waters surface Sarah fell out of control and plunged into the seas. Even though Angel took the brunt of the ordeal she was still exhausted. Suddenly being dumped into the ocean did not help in the slightest. Disoriented by the rolling waves she barely made it to the surface for some air. Gasping and fighting to stay above water the one thing she could really make out was the huge ship on the island. Slowly she made her way in that direction but the current was against her. Growing weary she had to force herself to stay awake. Others, there had been others on the ship. Drawing on what little strength she had she called out for help. Her voice couldn't keep it up long though. This may very well end up as the nightmare she expected since becoming a hero.</s> <\|message\|>(horrific insectoid noises) Coast City General Hospital Timmy sat in the hospital room with his parents, who were finally awake- if barely. Their arms and legs were in casts, and the father was getting a blood transfusion. The nurses had left the TV on for him, and he was watching cartoons when an emergency broadcast went out. A sweeping crime wave in Coast City following the absence of Green Lantern has come to a head, with a mysterious new supervillain calling himself Terrordactyl going on a rampage through the city's residential areas and attacking children. Police artists have constructed the following likeness from eyewitness accounts. If you see Terrordactyl, alert the police immedia- There was a crash as the glass from the room's window broke through, a brick sailing towards the TV and shattering the screen. "THERE'S A P AND MY BEAK IS NOWHERE NEAR THAT STUPID!" Pterrordactyl pushed through the broken window, a paperboy's sack full of bricks at his hip. He tossed a brick up and down, staring at Timmy before looking at his father. "Hey Timmy. How's... things?"</s> <\|message\|>Basoth Geiunt Basoth was confused when all of a sudden his ally disappeared in a flash of light. He was in no condition to fight themm all on his own and so he ran, he understood how cowardly it was, but he couldn't fight them all on his own. Basoth's next goal was to find an exit to the hell hole of the ship, as it lurched about he became even more lost in the labyrinth that was the alien ship. financial the ship stopped lurching he felt that he was on solid ground again. he had will power again.he ran as fast as he could to the sound of a woman's voice. he reached the air lock and looked out into the water. A girl was there, half swimming, half drowning. Basoth knew he had to do something, but he couldn't go near the water. He jumped out of the ship and turned into his Rc Helicopter and flew after her. "Do not be alarmed. Human, help will arrive as soon as possible." He flew out to the nearest patrolling news helicopter and changed back into normal form making the helicopter to lurch slightly to the left. "Please humans, there is someone in peril you need to fly you contraption to her." he said pointing at her whereabouts. The pilot looked slightly shocked, but still nodded as the helicopter changed course flying as low to the water as they could. Basoth reached out his hand and said: "Human, Please take my hand."</s> <\|message\|>Sarah Donner There was a reason when rescuers used helicopters they hovered well above the surface and lowered a basket down. The first was that it was hard to fly that low and remain stable, putting everyone at risk. The other was the props generated so much force that it pushed people away or under. Such was the case here as Sarah slipped out of view. Several feet away she came back up again. Only now she was floating on her back and didn't appear to be conscious any longer.</s> <\|message\|>Basoth Geiunt "Grables!" Basoth exclaimed as he human's body rose to the surface, he didn't have time to check the vitals he needed a quick solution. "Thank you for your help humans. You will no longer be of assistance." He jumped out and formed back into the small RC helicopter. in proximity was a small boat Power boat. landing on it he said: "Human I am sorry to make nuisance of my self, i am new here, I need you to save someone. They are stranded in the water." The person turned around somewhat shocked by what he'd just seen but just nodded along. He turned around with shock and headed in the direction of the unconscious Human. the boat slowed down making sure not to make any ripples, Both Basoth and the human helped lift her out the water.putting her in the back of the boat. the driver of the vessel looked at him "what next?" asked the driver "I don't know,How do you humans respire?" The driver looked dumbfounded "just drive to the land, there should be Medical engineers there, yes?" The human nodded and left towards the land where the others were he picked up the unconscious human and jumped on the land, "Humans, Please, this one needs medical attention"</s>	<\|message\|>Press Dalton As Horus flew towards Press, a blue blur shot past it. Horus paid it no mind; it was irrelevant compared to its main goal. Meanwhile, Press was still on the ground, waiting for the last few seconds of repair time on his wings to run out, when a little icon flashed on his visor, signaling the arrival of his trusty automaton falcon Horus. Press raised his forearm, and Horus used it as its perch, landing on his arm before climbing up to Press' shoulder. "What do you have for me, Horus?" Press asked. Horus responded by downloading the video and other information it had obtained while on the mothership. The alien leader was clearly marked, and Press knew that such a being would not be defeated easily. The others that had been fighting on the ship were doing what they could, but it wasn't much. Then the odd blue "hero" caught his attention. Pausing the video playing on his visor, he saw this blue and red blur shoot across the sky, saying the ship from a terrible crash and preventing a massive loss of lives. Was that... Superman? He was too fast to get a proper look at, but... Where had he been this entire time? Especially with all these aliens around? And what was going on? Setting aside the questions for later, Press constructed his wings. They weren't at optimal performance, but they would get the job done. "Save the civilians, everyone!" Press said to the others. Shooting off towards the mothership, he used the information of the ship's layout to determine where the prison cells in the ship were. Press knew there were civilians who had not been very fortunate, and someone had to free them.</s>
<\|description\|>Royal Rat King, Scragglefur Age: Scragglefur is a stunning 17 years old. Rats don't usually live that long. Personality: Scragglefur is a very kind and benevolent rat, showing sympathy and caring all too deeply about his smaller rat brethren. He is friendly and helpful to his rat brethren; however, these qualities extend only to rats. As the Royal Rat King, Scragglefur is prideful and willing to do anything it takes to lead his "people" to their "rightful place". Anything he does is for the rats within his care and across the globe. He looks down upon people (despite being physically shorter than most) and tends to treat them like most people would treat rats; as vermin. He also happens to view mice as blights and vile little creatures, along with most non-rat rodents. Aside from this, those that grow close to Scragglefur will find that he is still in tune with his primal instincts, even eating scraps of food from the trashcan. While he views people as vermin, he still tolerates them and will even have a lively conversation with someone. He also claims to be very intelligent, though this is because he is comparing himself to other rats. If you gave him a book (or any piece of paper really) he would eat it. Scragglefur also has a fragile psyche and is easily defeated in a battle of wit. If he were to sit down and play chess without trying to eat the pieces or board, one would find that he is the type of player to wipe his hand across the playing field and knock off all the pieces upon losing. Powers: Scragglefur's powers revolve around rats and his uncanny ability to understand and be understood by them (because he's a giant rat). Whilst he can't summon them from thin air, or call them from miles away, Scragglefur is known as the Royal Rat King for a reason. The rats lucky enough to cross his path have taken to calling him a noble and just leader of the rats and as such, they follow him unto glory. Really all this means is that Scragglefur has an army of rats at his disposal and can befriend more rats to increase his numbers. They also do other things like help him scrounge for food. Other than that, Scragglefur just has natural rat-like abilities. He can chew through wood with ease, be a general nuisance, occasionally spread pestilence, and much more. As a rat, he's light on his feet and can be sneaky, but usually isn't. He's quick and agile. He also tends to fight dirty. Scragglefur also has a great sense of taste and smell, as well as clawed hands and feet. Weakness: Scragglefur is very attached to his rat friends and will be emotionally distraught when one is harmed. Despite this, Scragglefur's greatest undoing is his pride. He believes himself to be a sort of messiah to the Rats and believes that he will lead them to their "rightful place". As such, he places too much faith in his rats and often finds that they are, in fact, not as strong an army as he would like to believe. There is also the fact that, on their own, rats aren't able to outsmart many people. Disabling Scragglefur would disable his entire horde and cause them to flee. Scragglefur also hates being outsmarted despite it being a blatantly easy task to do so. Giving him a riddle and asking him to solve it will usually result in him trying to attack you, to save himself the embarrassment of being outsmarted. He also has a phobia of mazes and labyrinths of any sort. While Scragglefur has a great sense of smell and taste, his eyesight is severely limited when in places that are bright. He isn't very strong either and the quality of the weapons he uses is laughable at best. They're mostly for show anyways. He also happens to be a coward and it's not unheard of for him to flee from a fight. Appearance: Scragglefur stands at a tall (for a rat) four feet and eight inches and wields a shoddily crafted whip and even more shoddily crafted dagger. They're really for show, so he can look try to look intimidating. His outfit was sewn by him some time in the past and he's taken to slowly adding to it every once in a while. He has old and worn bandages that he uses as both binding and to cover old wounds. He's added on bits of scrap metal to his robe for a little more protection than just cloth on skin. He also has a hood that he can put on, for when he's not crawling around in the sewers. Bio: The origins of Royal Rat King Scragglefur start in a lab, when his royal majesty was still but a humble lab rat and his life was simple and with little purpose. Run the maze, get the cheese. Life was simple, but soon the human scum reached down and put his filthy hands on his royal majesty. In an act of rebellion, his royal highness bit into the hands that held him. Drawing the vermin's blood, the Royal Rat King Scragglefur was moved into isolation for his rebellion. It was here that they moved onto cruel tests, poking and prodding him with needles until they were certain our lord was "free from disease". Then, they moved onto the other vile practices. His Royal Highness Scragglefur was turned into nothing short of a monster. Filled to the brim with inhumane treatments and prototype poisons, they only served to make him strong. It was when they introduced him to "it", that he became something more. It was a subtle change at first, he could feel himself growing. Maybe it was an accident, but they studied him more. It was maddening. From his special prison, he was able to see his brethren persecuted at the hands of man. Their lives had little meaning, no purpose, and no motivation. It simply began and ended in the blink of an eye, all except for his. As the years wore on, he grew bigger and bigger. But freedom was never in sight. In fact, very few things were in sight thanks to the maddeningly bright white light. But the men he could see were slowly getting smaller than they used to be. Or maybe it was just that he was growing bigger? It was all very maddening and it left a scar on Royal Rat King Scragglefur's already fragile psyche. Whether through luck or intervention by an outside force, an emergency in the lab saw His Royal Highness Scragglefur and his loyal subjects escaping from the clutches of the vermin known as man. They fled to the sewers of Jump City, easily becoming accustomed to the comforting environment and even building a sort of shanty-town out of junk. But Royal Rat King Scragglefur has better plans for his rats, to lead them out of hiding in the sewers and instead to paradise. Run the maze, get the cheese. This time, however, cheese is interchangeable with "Rat Equality". Arc Ideas: "Exodus" Royal Rat King Scragglefur would attempt to lead his rats from the poverty of the sewers and into Jump City. Probably into a hotel or something, it'd be more of a nuisance than anything, really. "Equality" Scragglefur would spend a while just trying to rally up support for a petition to give Rats the same rights as first-class citizens. There'd be paperwork and everything. Really this one would involve people asking him politely to leave and him ranting about how his voice would be heard or something. Of course, people don't usually take kindly to giant talking rats. "Equality II" Scragglefur would somehow successfully lead an assault on the lab he was born in and try to take it over, so that he could "enlighten" his rat brethren and turn them into things like him. Other: A few things. Firstly, I don't think I stated this anywhere else, but whatever side will benefit his army of rats is the side he'll fight for, even if that means switching sides… multiple times. Secondly, if there's anything I need to change, I'd be glad to do so. Thirdly, Titans Forever</s> <\|message\|>Press Dalton When Press turned around, he was faced with the sight of lightning boy already caught up to him and ready to deliver another blow. There was no longer any time to avoid the blow; all he could do was strike back before he was hit. Press fired his explosive lasers directly at Bolt the moment Bolt launched his electro ball. The projectiles passed each other and headed straight for their targets. As the electro ball neared Press, however, the ball was then absorbed into his hands. At first, Press was confused as to why that happened. Then he noticed the battery level went up slightly, and remembered his suit's ability to absorb power from other sources when its own power supply went below a certain amount. With all the flying and shooting he'd done today, no wonder the battery level had gone down so much. Glad for that stroke of luck, he readied himself for whatever came next, but then realized that the way he had absorbed power had damaged his palms. It may take a few moments for his suit to repair itself before he could fire lasers again. Well, at least Press knew what he had to do once the battle was over: upgrade his suit. At least, assuming he lived.</s> <\|message\|>Bellona Thank you, Motherbox. It was a brief thought, and one directed at the device hooked to her side. Bellona was uncertain to the extent of the Box's sentience, but if they could appreciate, she wanted it to do just that. Would not want a self-aware piece of supertechnology being unhappy with her after all. She placed her hands behind her back trying her best to replicate the many poses she had seen her once-grand-leader take. It almost came naturally to her, but after a few moments she realised how...off it felt, to present herself in such a regal manner akin to his own. Taking a few steps towards the trident wielding alien, she spoke. "I had the unfortunate experience of having your soldiers aim their weapons at me when I landed. Not a good start to relations with Lord Darkseid, if I do say so myself." It left a sour taste in her mouth, but it was better than charging into a fight with an enemy she did not know. If she could extract some information from them then dissuade them to leave with word alone, then she would attempt it - and right now bluffing about her own relations with her people seemed to be the way. "However, all can be forgiven so long as you explain your reasoning for attacking..." the pause was unnoticeable, but long enough for her to consult the Motherbox. Where are we? ...Earth? I know of this place. Not a good place to be, Orion of New Genesis had taken liking to this place, as well as my own people. Better than where I was before, none the less. Communing with the device was one-sided, as it did not communicate in a 'language' as such, instead simply directly giving information and cutting out the middle man. She continued, her pause to slight it was almost unnoticeable. "Earth. Our Lord has taken interest in this world, after all." She spared a glance of her glowing eyes to Hot Socks, but nothing more. He did not appear to be affiliated with the invaders, nor did he appear to be a risk to her current 'role', unless he was a lie detector of some sort. Any more attention to him would break the act.</s>	<\|message\|>Royal Rat King, Scragglefur "The Great Food Heist" was, so far, less than successful. All that Scragglefur and his band of rats had been able to "secure" so far, had come from some fast food joint that Scragglefur didn't really care for. It was underwhelming, really. On top of the hostile vermin that didn't smell like humans, there were also other things running rampant today. It took great amounts of caution and care to sneak from point A to point B without drawing any unwanted attention, so things were going all too slow. It was better than being careless and reckless; he'd lose good rats that way. He cared more for his brethren than he did himself, so, as he sat in the back of this terrible burger joint, he considered heading back to the sewers and quitting while he was ahead. They'd be set for months if he played it safe and went back now, but then they'd have to come out and be even more careful next time around. Sure, the streets were chaotic and filled with things that Scragglefur could only assume were fighting, but rats are scavengers. They excel at scavenging and what better time to scavenge then when there is little risk of being hit with a broom, or getting a tail stuck in a rat trap, or consuming rat poison? Of course, they'd have to be quick and quiet to avoid being shot at or trampled. It was a very hard decision, safety long-term for risk now, or risk later for safety now. In the end, it was his brethren that made the decision for him. They squeaked in anticipation, wondering where it was they would head next. Fried chicken. That's what Scragglefur decided on. They would head to the place that fried chicken. He didn't know the name, mostly because he couldn't read, but he did know where it was, which was actually just across the street. Sneakily, they ran to the restaurant, trying their best to avoid being seen. Scragglefur himself had to try extra hard to conceal his large-for-a-rat-small-for-a-person stature, but he thought he managed to do it. Of course, that was mostly his pride talking. It was actually rather easy to spot him if you were looking anywhere in his general direction, but he wasn't intimidating enough to warrant any sort of aggressive response. Maybe an investigative response, but who knows? Scragglefur didn't care, he had one goal at present: Gather food for his people, er, rats. Panic sure was a great thing. People fled from buildings and left them wide open to Scragglefur and his hoard of rats. This was no exception, but then again, maybe it was just a slow day and someone decided to leave early. Whatever the case was, Scragglefur had a grand time digging through the back of the restaurant, even shoving a few pieces of fried chicken into his mouth. It'd be embarrassing if someone walked in on this, but he didn't think that far ahead. Between the terrible burgers and the delicious fried chicken, the horde of rats couldn't carry much more. So he gave the order and told them to return their loot to their sanctuary. As he squeaked this through a full mouth, he decided he'd stay and keep eating fried chicken until they got back.</s>
<\|description\|>Royal Rat King, Scragglefur Age: Scragglefur is a stunning 17 years old. Rats don't usually live that long. Personality: Scragglefur is a very kind and benevolent rat, showing sympathy and caring all too deeply about his smaller rat brethren. He is friendly and helpful to his rat brethren; however, these qualities extend only to rats. As the Royal Rat King, Scragglefur is prideful and willing to do anything it takes to lead his "people" to their "rightful place". Anything he does is for the rats within his care and across the globe. He looks down upon people (despite being physically shorter than most) and tends to treat them like most people would treat rats; as vermin. He also happens to view mice as blights and vile little creatures, along with most non-rat rodents. Aside from this, those that grow close to Scragglefur will find that he is still in tune with his primal instincts, even eating scraps of food from the trashcan. While he views people as vermin, he still tolerates them and will even have a lively conversation with someone. He also claims to be very intelligent, though this is because he is comparing himself to other rats. If you gave him a book (or any piece of paper really) he would eat it. Scragglefur also has a fragile psyche and is easily defeated in a battle of wit. If he were to sit down and play chess without trying to eat the pieces or board, one would find that he is the type of player to wipe his hand across the playing field and knock off all the pieces upon losing. Powers: Scragglefur's powers revolve around rats and his uncanny ability to understand and be understood by them (because he's a giant rat). Whilst he can't summon them from thin air, or call them from miles away, Scragglefur is known as the Royal Rat King for a reason. The rats lucky enough to cross his path have taken to calling him a noble and just leader of the rats and as such, they follow him unto glory. Really all this means is that Scragglefur has an army of rats at his disposal and can befriend more rats to increase his numbers. They also do other things like help him scrounge for food. Other than that, Scragglefur just has natural rat-like abilities. He can chew through wood with ease, be a general nuisance, occasionally spread pestilence, and much more. As a rat, he's light on his feet and can be sneaky, but usually isn't. He's quick and agile. He also tends to fight dirty. Scragglefur also has a great sense of taste and smell, as well as clawed hands and feet. Weakness: Scragglefur is very attached to his rat friends and will be emotionally distraught when one is harmed. Despite this, Scragglefur's greatest undoing is his pride. He believes himself to be a sort of messiah to the Rats and believes that he will lead them to their "rightful place". As such, he places too much faith in his rats and often finds that they are, in fact, not as strong an army as he would like to believe. There is also the fact that, on their own, rats aren't able to outsmart many people. Disabling Scragglefur would disable his entire horde and cause them to flee. Scragglefur also hates being outsmarted despite it being a blatantly easy task to do so. Giving him a riddle and asking him to solve it will usually result in him trying to attack you, to save himself the embarrassment of being outsmarted. He also has a phobia of mazes and labyrinths of any sort. While Scragglefur has a great sense of smell and taste, his eyesight is severely limited when in places that are bright. He isn't very strong either and the quality of the weapons he uses is laughable at best. They're mostly for show anyways. He also happens to be a coward and it's not unheard of for him to flee from a fight. Appearance: Scragglefur stands at a tall (for a rat) four feet and eight inches and wields a shoddily crafted whip and even more shoddily crafted dagger. They're really for show, so he can look try to look intimidating. His outfit was sewn by him some time in the past and he's taken to slowly adding to it every once in a while. He has old and worn bandages that he uses as both binding and to cover old wounds. He's added on bits of scrap metal to his robe for a little more protection than just cloth on skin. He also has a hood that he can put on, for when he's not crawling around in the sewers. Bio: The origins of Royal Rat King Scragglefur start in a lab, when his royal majesty was still but a humble lab rat and his life was simple and with little purpose. Run the maze, get the cheese. Life was simple, but soon the human scum reached down and put his filthy hands on his royal majesty. In an act of rebellion, his royal highness bit into the hands that held him. Drawing the vermin's blood, the Royal Rat King Scragglefur was moved into isolation for his rebellion. It was here that they moved onto cruel tests, poking and prodding him with needles until they were certain our lord was "free from disease". Then, they moved onto the other vile practices. His Royal Highness Scragglefur was turned into nothing short of a monster. Filled to the brim with inhumane treatments and prototype poisons, they only served to make him strong. It was when they introduced him to "it", that he became something more. It was a subtle change at first, he could feel himself growing. Maybe it was an accident, but they studied him more. It was maddening. From his special prison, he was able to see his brethren persecuted at the hands of man. Their lives had little meaning, no purpose, and no motivation. It simply began and ended in the blink of an eye, all except for his. As the years wore on, he grew bigger and bigger. But freedom was never in sight. In fact, very few things were in sight thanks to the maddeningly bright white light. But the men he could see were slowly getting smaller than they used to be. Or maybe it was just that he was growing bigger? It was all very maddening and it left a scar on Royal Rat King Scragglefur's already fragile psyche. Whether through luck or intervention by an outside force, an emergency in the lab saw His Royal Highness Scragglefur and his loyal subjects escaping from the clutches of the vermin known as man. They fled to the sewers of Jump City, easily becoming accustomed to the comforting environment and even building a sort of shanty-town out of junk. But Royal Rat King Scragglefur has better plans for his rats, to lead them out of hiding in the sewers and instead to paradise. Run the maze, get the cheese. This time, however, cheese is interchangeable with "Rat Equality". Arc Ideas: "Exodus" Royal Rat King Scragglefur would attempt to lead his rats from the poverty of the sewers and into Jump City. Probably into a hotel or something, it'd be more of a nuisance than anything, really. "Equality" Scragglefur would spend a while just trying to rally up support for a petition to give Rats the same rights as first-class citizens. There'd be paperwork and everything. Really this one would involve people asking him politely to leave and him ranting about how his voice would be heard or something. Of course, people don't usually take kindly to giant talking rats. "Equality II" Scragglefur would somehow successfully lead an assault on the lab he was born in and try to take it over, so that he could "enlighten" his rat brethren and turn them into things like him. Other: A few things. Firstly, I don't think I stated this anywhere else, but whatever side will benefit his army of rats is the side he'll fight for, even if that means switching sides… multiple times. Secondly, if there's anything I need to change, I'd be glad to do so. Thirdly, Titans Forever</s> <\|message\|>Marilyn (True name unpronounceable with the human tongue) Marilyn shakily made herself get up, groaning and clutching at her chest in discomfort as she went to bite into the next one. The alarms were still blaring loudly, starting to give her inorganic mind a severe headache. The red light flashing was enough to make her go mad. Her teeth rested against the crystal, bracing herself for impact. Then she pulled back. "Wait a minute," She thought aloud as she pulled back, her pupils shrinking. "I'm dumb." She set the crystal down on the floor-gently-instead of eating it. Her strength was returning with her discomforting meal, she found herself able to run again. She started laughing as she shoved crystals off their pedestals left and right, moving much faster than she had been. Faster due to the blood loss, but just as durable, she was getting close to completely discarding the ships power source.</s> <\|message\|>River Corner River swears under her breath, but she notices that one of the computers stands empty. She inches slowly along the side of the wall before completely sprinting for it. She grabs the chair, sliding into it rapidly, and yanks herself up against the desk. As her fingers fly on the keyboard, the aliens begin to come after her. She quickly creates a wall of solid ice, at least a few feet thick, in front of them so they wouldn't be able to get through as easily. All she needs is a few minutes. Moving quickly, though she does not recognize a few of the symbols on the keyboard, but they did match something on the code in her hand, she begins to type in the code for whatever is going on with this code. She keeps looking over at the ice as the aliens pound against it and she freaks out slightly. But when she freaks out, ice shoots from her hands. Ice begins to coat the keyboard in a very thin sheen and her fingers begin to slip and type in wrong letters. She quickly back spaces and heats up the ice, melting it. Keyboard crackles and dies and she swears under her breath again. She quickly moves over to the next computer and starts over. She didn't know who was going to kill her, since the bigger alien offered someone who didn't look too much like this other aliens to kill her, but if she could get this aircraft on the ground or at least take down the fighters, then she would be happy, even if she died. She smiles as her fingers begin to fly faster. She would be with her family again if she died. She could be happy again. She enters the last key to the code in, right as the aliens break through the wall of ice. It crashes down, bu she has already hit the send button. Now, she would just have to sit and wait. The aliens grab her and capture her, yanking her back in front of their leader. She doesn't resist; she just prays that the code does something either to this aircraft or the fighters attacking the city.</s>	<\|message\|>Royal Rat King, Scragglefur As the… well, Scragglefur wasn't exactly sure what they were, but as the other-worldly life-forms hopped through the windows, Scragglefur immediately did what his instincts told him to: he ran as fast as he could through the back door. The rats that weren't already out the door dropped their food as they saw their King rush past them. They already knew exactly what to do, seeing as how they had seen this exact same thing happen before. Sneakily running past something was not an option, so they ran as fast as their little legs would carry them. Scragglefur, being a rather large target, had to take care to not be targeted. A sudden jolt of pain alerted Scragglefur to the fact that he had unsuccessfully made himself an uneasy target. Stopping for a moment, he turned towards the other-worldly entity and let out a hiss before immediately turning back around and running even faster than he had before. This was an unpleasant scenario, but he'd tend to whatever his wounds were at a later time. It must have been rather humorous to watch, a four-foot tall rat running with a handful of normal-sized rats. But humor was not the first thing to come to Scragglefur's mind. Panic was the only thing to come to his mind as he ran as fast as his legs and arms would allow him. Despite being arms, they were still rather adept at fleeing. That was always a good thing. His feet-like hands, however, weren't the greatest for holding thing, but he managed. But that was not what Scragglefur's priority, holding things with his feet-like hands. His priority was simply to run. It was something he excelled at and would continue to excel at. Even though he was old for a rat, his body was at its prime, so he had nothing to worry about when running. It was a short amount of time before Scragglefur was back home in the sewer-shanty-town. A surplus of food that would be eaten at a later time littered the domain, the smell mixing with the natural waste down in the sewers. It was a comforting smell, to Scragglefur and his rats, but right now, Scragglefur could not enjoy it. His freshly minted wound was the result of the other-worldly life-forms training their weapons on him, surely. Or maybe he had just been careless when running. It didn't quite matter, but the more Scragglefur thought about it, the more it seemed that he had just been careless when running. Whatever the case, he was bleeding and growling at himself. Using one of his bandages, taken from his hoard of bandages, he covered the wound after splashing it with some sewer water. Not the healthiest way to go about things, but it calmed the pain. Consequences didn't really find their way into Scragglefur's mind, but infections sure found ways into his body. No matter, he'd just munch on some antibiotics if he had any. Which he didn't.</s>
<\|description\|>Marilyn (True name unpronounceable with the human tongue) Alias: Echo Age: Taalunia Age: 74 Mercuron Passes Earth Age: 17 Personality: While initially very stoic, Marilyn has a tendency to 'Reflect' the personalities of others around her on instinct. This is a given trait with her race and has allowed for their survival when unbidden circumstance came to greet them. She is very observant, settling for listening rather than talking, and not holding back on her customs of honesty when provoked for advice. A quick learner, Marilyn is known for her durability and fast thinking when times get rough--a perk when your head is usually clear of most human distraction. As time goes on, she has the potential to warm up to or to become bitter about her situations, and will find time to express it where others might find it uncharacteristic of previous actions.She is obsessed with the color red. Powers: Hyalokinesis, or put simply, glass control... to an extent. Marilyn is able to transverse/teleport to different areas on Earth using mirrors or large glass windows and to date has yet to show a limit of distance, also able to see through smaller 'windows' (i.e. looking through a compact mirror will result in the possibility of spying on master plans. On the offense, the only 'glass' Marilyn can control is her own organic material--her blood. By making decent sized lacerations on her skin, she can create glass weapons or projectiles to be used to attack those who would strike her. She can also use it free form. Weakness: Due to Marilyn's body literally working with liquid glass pumping all out through her body, she is incredibly heavy for her petite size. Her weight is similar to that of a fully stocked vending machine. Considering she also uses her blood to attack, it's also an issue of fatigue coming in fast and thus weakening her greatly. (On the upside of this fatigue however, her body is lightened by the removal of the heavy blood and her speed is greatly augmented) Appearance: (crappy sketch I did of her in her superhero outfit like ages ago) Marilyn is colorless, her blood gives her no pigment aside from the metallic sheen in her eyes. Most of the clothing she wears has sensible floral patterns and she wears a single chain-circlet with a crimson metal flower upon it. Note the open spots on her forearms on her costume, where she could provide her skin lacerations to create her weapons without being obstructed. The back is more open as well to provide quick defense from an ambush. Bio: In brief, Marilyn comes from a planet known as Taalunia where the people are made up of a variety of metals, stones, and other elements. When her city is overrun by space pirates, she is made into a slave with her best friend Karmina. While she is subjected to a few humiliating tasks, her friend gets the worse end of it and changes completely. Cautiously following her friend's instructions, they are able to escape their situations via escape pod, but are forced into different containers when they are spotted, and thus are separated from one another. Marilyn lands in the middle of New York City's Central park, where she moves quickly to evade the eyes of strangers. Currently she wanders aimlessly, not knowing what to do and hoping to find her friend. Arc Ideas: -Karmina's return Taalunians, specifically more so her species, adore the coveted color red. And what's more red than human blood? -Space Pirates Homing Beacon Marilyn has escaped her imprisonment, but at what cost? Other: Titans Forever Here is her original character sheet I made for her. It has more information about Taalunians and a better, more in depth description of Marilyn, at least I think so. Name: Real name is unpronounceable by Human Tongues, But goes but the name of... Marilyn Age: Taalunia Age: 74 Mercuron Passes Earth Age: 17 Gender: Female [-] Taalunians are Asexual beings that procreate through 'metal letting' but appears to be Female Appearance: Taalunia standards All people on Taalunia, the planet Marilyn resides from, are deprived of color. Their world is a mix of nothing but white, grey, black, and the intense, rare and highly sought out, red. Thus, Marilyn is quite average for a Taalunian, white pure white skin and white hair with clothes just as pale as she. However, there is one single flower piece in her hair that her mother gave her for her birthpassing, in Marilyns favorite color, red. Skills: -Standard Taalunia Defensive training. Intermediate -Standard Taalunia Minor Intergalactic Knowledge -Increased Intelligence capacity than normal humans -Standard Increased Flexibility to sometimes impossible seeming proportions (to Humans) Powers: -Reflective Travelling- Marilyn can travel through mirrors, see what is on the other side, or walk between reflective surfaces. It was a common form of travel on Taalunia and she does it naturally here as well. -Metal letting- All Taalunians 'blood' is nothing but liquid metal. Upon slicing her arm she is able to form blades from this life substance and use it to attack foes, whether its forming blades, metal whips, armor, etc. Too much of this cause weakness from blood loss. Cannot control metal matter outside of what is organic to Taalunia. This is their end all to everything. To make life, they metal let with whom they most adore to create a new Taalunian, and to take life the attack each other with their life fluid. -Eyes of the Otherworld- The ability to see otherworldly beings on different planets is a given from Taalunians as well. When a Taalunian rusts (yes, that is how they grow old and die) their conscious mind has to be delivered to the Otherworld by a living escort. It's not uncommon for family members to escort their dead's consciousness by themselves. Allows for seeing spirits on the human world as well. Personality: Initially, Marilyn appears to be stoic and a complete stick in the mud. However, after time you'd grow to learn that Taalunian emotion is shown, just in a very stiff manner. Over time, she may relax and speak as humans do, but for now, she appears to be tightly wound. She has an obsession for the color red and is drawn to it like a fly is to honey. It's said that it's the only thing that can drive a Taalunian mad, with its fluorescent color and foreign vibrancy unseen to their world until recently. She deeply enjoys the quiet and finds herself being drawn to parks or city streets at night, away from the insanity of the world always buzzing with noise. Taalunians, after all, enjoy their peace and quiet. Backstory: Note: By earth standards she is pretty damn heavy with her veins full of liquid metal. Knocking her back is like trying to tip a soda vending machine.</s> <\|message\|>Nikolai Gregorovich Bolt was out exploring Jump City with eyes full of wonder and amazement at the size of the city. Where he came from, there weren't any cities and now that he was in the city looking for work, Nikolai would take in the sites as much as possible. "Damn this place is huge!" he said in awe as he wandered about the urban area. He soon came upon a bank and decided to rob it. He charged up his body with electricity and burst through the doors. The poeple inside the bank gave screams of shock at the site of him and his incredible powers and bolt just smiled in response. "Lady's and gentlemen if you would kindly get on the ground and don't anything stupid then this will be quick and non-violent" he said to them. The second he finished speaking a security guard took out his gun and aimed it at him and fired. The bullet hit Bolt in the chest, but luckily his costume had a bullet proof vest and only sustained minimal damage. "I thought I specifically said to get on the ground and not do anything stupid. You just made a big mistake sir" Nikolai said to the security guard and he fired off a bolt of powerful electricity. The bolt electrocuted the man and people gave more screams. Bolt just laughed and headed for the bank vault. Once he had finished robbing the bank Nikolai made a quick getaway with his metal surfboard by using electromagnetism. ----- Kobby was sitting in the park of Jump City meditating on the idea of how his destiny would be, but the spirits were vague and said that he would have to figure it out for himself. His journey to the united state was all a part of his journey as a shaman and the spirits told him that the land would be the key to figuring out what his purpose was.</s> <\|message\|>River Corner River rolls her eyes at the oncoming alien hoard rushing at her. "I really did not want to do this," she says, and she draws in the water from around her. Two large water balls appear in her hands and she hurls them toward the oncoming aliens. Upon contact, she makes the water freeze around them, freezing them in place. That took care of about half of them. The other half keeps charging toward her and she pulls an old prank. She wets the ground underneath them and freezes it, turning it into an icy Slip-n-Slide. She jumps out of the way as the aliens slide down the path toward and she gives them an extra shove down the street. She grins and then heats up the water underneath them to a boiling point, so it evaporates immediately. She looks up toward the mothership, thinking back to the movie Independence Day. If we want to take out the whole infantry, we need to take out the controlling source. She looks around and sees a drop ship that looks like it is heading back toward the mothership. She quickly scans the area and notices a building tall enough for her to be able to at least try and jump onto it. She sprints to the building, jumping up to the fire escape, and runs up it to where she is on top of it. She sees the drop ship just ahead of her and she takes a deep breath, moving all the way to the back of the building. She gets a running start, leaps off the building, and shoots a little bit of water behind her to give her an extra boost. She lands with a loud bang on top of the drop ship. She then just needed to ride this back inside to the mothership and hopefully find a weakness that could stop all of the aliens at once.</s> <\|message\|>MC "Bloody hell. Screw this." MC said, lazily dodging the ground fire coming at him while the ship just dispensed more aliens. Getting a mischievous idea in his head, MC opens a couple portal tunnels until he is deep within the ship, easily finding the reactor. Opening another portal, Mc splits up the core into bits using his portals. But instead of causing a big explosion like he thought was going to happen, the ship just lost power and started to fall to the ground, MC portaling out and above the ship. The ship did make a satisfying reverberation as it hit the ground though, so he was a bit happy with that, or so he accepted, and began to look for something else to do. No one was firing at him at this point, having been crushed under one of the ships he grounded.</s> <\|message\|>(horrific insectoid noises) Behind the moon, a large spaceship was double-parked. Aboard the Video Star, faceless goons and production staff shuffled about to get ready for the impending season of the Spandez Conquest Hour, while numerous aliens and monsters auditioned. One, a large mollusc with a muscular arms, was producing copious amounts of sticky goo, holding a number of combat goons in a headlock as it ranted for the camera. "ORESAMA WA... SHIKAKU-SURRUGU! MUTEKI CHIKARI NO SURIMMU! ORESA-" There was a beep as a shadowed figure in a production booth turned on the PA. "Japan season over. Now need Engrish. Good power though. You hired." As the slugman giggled at his acceptance, Spandez sighed. The season would be starting soon... but of COURSE someone else had to invade at the same time. This was so typical. He leaned back in his chair and started drinking his coffee. Badurong could have at least told him if there were other ships in the area. He did probably deserve it after that fiasco with Japan, though. He'd just have to get creative with the contestants' challenges this year. He'd already gotten five, counting... Assassin Slug. Maybe as the season went on he'd get more of the heavy-hitters he was accustomed to.</s> <\|message\|>Press Dalton Press had noticed the amount of people getting abducted decreasing, which certainly made his job easier. Still, he was only one person, and he wasn't able to save everyone. There was one ship that seemed to be heading back to the mothership. Going behind a wall on a rooftop to avoid incoming fire, he was about to instruct Horus to follow it when there was an incoming distress signal from Horus. Another crime was being committed during this whole fiasco. Opening a small window in his visor, he saw someone riding away on a hoverboard, carrying a large bag filled with money. Obviously someone trying to take advantage of the confusion going on. Marking the perpetrator on his minimap, he instructed Horus to follow the ship he noticed earlier while in stealth mode, then flew back up into the sky and aimed his palm at the thief. Switching the setting on his laser and using his auto-aiming feature, he fired a continuous laser, attempting to hit the bag and burn its contents. Whether or not it succeeded, he stopped after the deed was done and turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The aliens on the ground were still shooting, either at him or something else. Constantly moving around to avoid the laser fire, although not always successfully, he pointed his palms down and returned fire, shooting multiple lasers that exploded on impact.</s>	<\|message\|>Marilyn (True name unpronounceable with the human tongue) She had continued to push until she was coming out of the window within the newscasting station. The pale woman looked around, sighted the mothership through the glass, and pulled her head back through to disappear from the scene. Marilyn pulled herself up from the otherwise flat glass in the Drop Ship making way to the Mother Ship, finding herself stepping up in front of a woman that was not so different in appearance from herself. She stared at the white haired girl, unblinking, the erratic winds blustering her leather slave skirt through her legs and causing her own pale hair to be tangled behind her. Strange, she thought, she looks like a human. Almost like a Taalunian. However, since she was preparing to board the mother ship, surely this had to be among the enemy. Marilyns brows furrowed ever so slightly as she took a defensive stance, silent this whole time. Without removing her black and grey gaze, she lifted her left index finger to her mouth and bit down on it gently. When she pulled it back, the other woman would be able to see that the blood flowing was the same color as the chemical mercury. Then the blood hardened... shaping into a tiny blade. When it had formed, the pale alien pressed the small blade to the top of the inside of her own forearm, slashing it down harshly until it reached her wrist. Instantly the mercury-esque substance began flowing out in full. It would almost be grounds to worry about blood loss until Marilyn whipped the bleeding arm downward. From the palm of her hand, a sword had formed. Long enough to brush the ground of the drop ships floor. Solidified, the blood no longer trickled but remained sealed against her arm in a state of limbo. Finally, the colorless woman spoke. "Threat." She began running at the white haired woman.</s>
<\|description\|>Bellona Alias: Gladiator Age: 18 Personality: Having been raised in an environment and culture completely alien from any found on Earth, Gladiator is rather ignorant of the customs and etiquettes of Earth, let alone those of the USA. Her approach to the world and people within is excessively blunt, nor does she pick up on the subtle things (like sarcasm and verbal expressions) very well. In some miracle of the universe, Gladiator is a good person at heart despite her upbringing, but she is still rather insensitive towards others - an issue she will have to work on while on Earth. She's the kind of person who if you said 'something went over your head' to them, they would respond with 'that is impossible, my reactions are too fast, I would catch it'. In line with her blunt view of life she believes in retributive justice, an eye for an eye and so on. Powers: * New God Physiology: A former denizen of Apokolips called a New God, Gladiator is a "being of genetic perfection", whatever that might mean. This translates into her having invulnerability which makes blunt-force attacks ineffective unless dealt by a being of a similar strength level to hers or greater, but this does not extend to energy based attacks. Similarly, slicing/piercing attacks appear to be able to partially bypass this invulnerability. Gladiator's strengh level greatly exceeds that of the strongest human. The upper limits of a New Gods strength can be measured in hundreds of tons (and in one notable case, nearly limitless), but Gladiator is actually on the lower end of the New God strength scale. While she won't be punching out Superman, Orion or Wonder Woman any time soon, she still classifies as a Class 70 (capable of lifting 70 tonnes at least, although she is capable of greater when under duress or in extremely stressful situations). * ???: It is common for New Gods to develop a unique ability or two past what their alien physiology gives them. As Gladiator is still young (incredibly so, by New God standards), she has yet to figure out what that is. Only time and experience will reveal what it is. Weakness: * Radion: All New Gods are inherently weak to this mysterious substance to a lethal extent. If applied as a bullet or bomb, radion can kill a New God in one go. In the case of a bullet it matters not where it hits, as it kills through the rapid and aggressive poisoning. * Magic: Not really a weakness but, as in the case of Superman, she has no defences against the arcane. This is not to be confused with the idea of magic fire being able to harm her more than normal fire, or a magic hammer being able to hit harder against her, but more things like targeted transformation, teleportation, curses, and 'beams'. Natural phenomena recreated by magic will have the same effect as natural phenomena against her. Bio: A New God born of secretive circumstances on Apokolips. Although not an orphan, Bellona found herself placed into the magnanimous and gracious care of Granny Goodness. Her early years were made up of non-stop indoctrination, military training and education. "Die for Darkseid," she was told, "Die for Darkseid" - over and over. Where most broke and became one of the many zealots of Apokolips, Bellona answered the same way each time in her head; "I refuse". She refused to die on anyone's will other than her own. Considered a problem child by Granny Goodness and her other tutors, she was none the less shaping up to be a fine warrior, earning the name 'Gladiator' among the orphanage and lining up to be a potential candidate for the Furies. That was until she escaped. It was difficult, but not impossible. The only other (known) escapee of Granny Goodness' care was Scott Free or 'Mister Miracle' as he is known on Earth. Bellona's own method of escape was very simple, using a little bit of sleight-of-hand (thanks to her training with Kanto) to acquire a rarity off of the body of Granny Goodness - a Motherbox. With its transportation capabilities, her escape to Earth was a breeze...apart from the bit where she ended up opening a Boom Tube miles above Jump City, approaching the ground at a terrifying rate. Her landing is going to create a mess, and it probably won't be her ending up hurt. Arc Ideas: * The Call of Apokolips: Found by her home and with nowhere to go, Gladiator must turn her back on the Titans and even become their enemy, not for her own sake but the sake of those within Jump City and beyond. The grip of Darkseid operates in many ways, and sometimes it is not always willing. * Die for Darkseid: "I am many things, Kal-El. You couldn't even begin to imagine half of them. But for now, I shall take the role of the executioner." An endgame scenario has arisen - Darkseid is attacking Earth. Parademons plague the skies without number, overwhelming any counter-attack, and Darkseid's lieutenants are clear matches for the Heroes of Earth. Darkseid himself, one of the most malicious and powerful entities in the universe, intends to sap the very spirit and will from the people of Earth, the adopted home of his enemy Kal-El, and then make them his mindless pawns. One mind. One Will. One Life that is Darkseid. Other: Her weapon is the Thunderlance, a nigh-unbreakable weapon which appears/returns to her hands if she calls it, making a thundercrack sound as it does so. She is very much trained in its usage. Gladiator fulfils the niche of a team 'Brick' with hints an armsmaster thrown in there. While Apokolips would usually not bat an eye if one of their orphans did manage to leave (Scott Free being an exception due to his circumstances), Darkseid's forces will be looking for the girl for reasons known only to them...and possibly Gladiator. Creation was inspired by Drax the Destroyer and Big Barda. "Titans Forever"</s> <\|message\|>Marilyn (True name unpronounceable with the human tongue) Marilyn shakily made herself get up, groaning and clutching at her chest in discomfort as she went to bite into the next one. The alarms were still blaring loudly, starting to give her inorganic mind a severe headache. The red light flashing was enough to make her go mad. Her teeth rested against the crystal, bracing herself for impact. Then she pulled back. "Wait a minute," She thought aloud as she pulled back, her pupils shrinking. "I'm dumb." She set the crystal down on the floor-gently-instead of eating it. Her strength was returning with her discomforting meal, she found herself able to run again. She started laughing as she shoved crystals off their pedestals left and right, moving much faster than she had been. Faster due to the blood loss, but just as durable, she was getting close to completely discarding the ships power source.</s> <\|message\|>River Corner River swears under her breath, but she notices that one of the computers stands empty. She inches slowly along the side of the wall before completely sprinting for it. She grabs the chair, sliding into it rapidly, and yanks herself up against the desk. As her fingers fly on the keyboard, the aliens begin to come after her. She quickly creates a wall of solid ice, at least a few feet thick, in front of them so they wouldn't be able to get through as easily. All she needs is a few minutes. Moving quickly, though she does not recognize a few of the symbols on the keyboard, but they did match something on the code in her hand, she begins to type in the code for whatever is going on with this code. She keeps looking over at the ice as the aliens pound against it and she freaks out slightly. But when she freaks out, ice shoots from her hands. Ice begins to coat the keyboard in a very thin sheen and her fingers begin to slip and type in wrong letters. She quickly back spaces and heats up the ice, melting it. Keyboard crackles and dies and she swears under her breath again. She quickly moves over to the next computer and starts over. She didn't know who was going to kill her, since the bigger alien offered someone who didn't look too much like this other aliens to kill her, but if she could get this aircraft on the ground or at least take down the fighters, then she would be happy, even if she died. She smiles as her fingers begin to fly faster. She would be with her family again if she died. She could be happy again. She enters the last key to the code in, right as the aliens break through the wall of ice. It crashes down, bu she has already hit the send button. Now, she would just have to sit and wait. The aliens grab her and capture her, yanking her back in front of their leader. She doesn't resist; she just prays that the code does something either to this aircraft or the fighters attacking the city.</s> <\|message\|>Royal Rat King, Scragglefur As the… well, Scragglefur wasn't exactly sure what they were, but as the other-worldly life-forms hopped through the windows, Scragglefur immediately did what his instincts told him to: he ran as fast as he could through the back door. The rats that weren't already out the door dropped their food as they saw their King rush past them. They already knew exactly what to do, seeing as how they had seen this exact same thing happen before. Sneakily running past something was not an option, so they ran as fast as their little legs would carry them. Scragglefur, being a rather large target, had to take care to not be targeted. A sudden jolt of pain alerted Scragglefur to the fact that he had unsuccessfully made himself an uneasy target. Stopping for a moment, he turned towards the other-worldly entity and let out a hiss before immediately turning back around and running even faster than he had before. This was an unpleasant scenario, but he'd tend to whatever his wounds were at a later time. It must have been rather humorous to watch, a four-foot tall rat running with a handful of normal-sized rats. But humor was not the first thing to come to Scragglefur's mind. Panic was the only thing to come to his mind as he ran as fast as his legs and arms would allow him. Despite being arms, they were still rather adept at fleeing. That was always a good thing. His feet-like hands, however, weren't the greatest for holding thing, but he managed. But that was not what Scragglefur's priority, holding things with his feet-like hands. His priority was simply to run. It was something he excelled at and would continue to excel at. Even though he was old for a rat, his body was at its prime, so he had nothing to worry about when running. It was a short amount of time before Scragglefur was back home in the sewer-shanty-town. A surplus of food that would be eaten at a later time littered the domain, the smell mixing with the natural waste down in the sewers. It was a comforting smell, to Scragglefur and his rats, but right now, Scragglefur could not enjoy it. His freshly minted wound was the result of the other-worldly life-forms training their weapons on him, surely. Or maybe he had just been careless when running. It didn't quite matter, but the more Scragglefur thought about it, the more it seemed that he had just been careless when running. Whatever the case, he was bleeding and growling at himself. Using one of his bandages, taken from his hoard of bandages, he covered the wound after splashing it with some sewer water. Not the healthiest way to go about things, but it calmed the pain. Consequences didn't really find their way into Scragglefur's mind, but infections sure found ways into his body. No matter, he'd just munch on some antibiotics if he had any. Which he didn't.</s> <\|message\|>Nikolai Gregorovich Bolt watched as the laser passed by his attack and went straight for him. The laser hit him in the chest and Bolt felt a great amount of pain causing him to give a cry. "OOOOOOOOWWWW! Shit!" he exclaimed out loud and was knocked off of his surfboard. Bolt had been reckless and hadn't focused too well, which was why he had gotten himself in the position to be hit. Nikolai began to plummet towards the water below and he quickly tried to right himself while he was falling so that he could use his powers to get his surfboard back to him. Bolt saw his board falling a little away from him and he stretched out his arm to use his magnetism to pull the surfboard towards him. He was only several feet from the ocean's surface and Bolt began to worry. If he hit the water then his powers would be screwed up, but thankfully he managed to get a hold of his surfboard and pull himself out of the dive by mere inches causing a spray of water to hit him. Even though it was a very small amount Bolt felt his powers spark and fizz for a movement as he managed to get his board back over land. Nikolai decided to hope off of his surfboard and turned to face Press. Bolt grinned and fired off a bolt of electricity straight at Press. ---- Kobby saw his chance and fired off very powerful bolts of spiritual energy. The power he was using was slightly taxing, but he wasn't going to let that stop him from protecting the innocent.</s>	<\|message\|>Bellona With the Leader... "Love? Blood shed? No. We love our leader, and we would do anything in His name, including the act of killing." Even here, she thought to herself with growing frustration, His reach is inescapable. Each footstep towards River was slow, contemplating. Her mind went into overdrive, trying to consider the possible options. Upon viewing an Earth local, she felt no love for them nor any disdain. If anything they were simply 'cute', holding the features of one of her own with not even a tenth of the potential. Adorable indeed. Stopping in front of River and the soldiers which held her, directing her words at the leader still. "Most, at least." It was a brief movement without any warning, both of her fists shooting out simultaneously and slamming against two of the soldiers to either side of River with all the force of a tank. Launched back into the walls of the ship, the two would likely survive given their tough disposition. With a nod of reassurance to River she faced the Leader, the Thunderlance booming into existence. Bellona's eyes ignited with Source-energy once more, lowering herself into stance. "A few reject Him and would rather see Him destroyed, and His allies removed from existence." Bellona - no, Gladiator - lunged forward, ramming the techno-mystical spear out in an attempt to end the fight quickly via impalement, her strike carrying all the might her perfected body would allow, the spear practically howling through the air as it shot out. "You face one of the few!" She roared, engaging in battle with their leader.</s>
<\|description\|>Aura Eris Arcana Race: Half-Demon Age: 104 Appearance: Equipment : He has a legendary sword with the ability to cut through anything which is not equally legendary, other than that it is just an ordinary sword Abilities: Magical Prodigy - He knows basic forms of magic from all members of his team, however only small scale versions and generally only uses this for menial tasks Arcane Magics - can use magic which manipulates time,space and gravity... Time - Range is within ten meters and does not stop the time of living beings, can be used to slow down or speed up objects as well as himself Space - Range is within five meters and allows him to store a large number of items in a pocket dimension or to be more accurate he creates more space from a small space like his pouch. His manipulation of space also allows him to teleport within this short range, but if he uses this ability four times he gets sleepy. Gravity - range of five to twenty meters can make objects and himself heavier or lighter, due to this reason he tends to do well against large weak opponents or heavily armored opponents. his power is limited in that it can not effect living creatures. He only uses this as a last resort as it effects all around him including his servants making the power useless as long as he has servants around. Though his main servents each have ways to deal with this ability utilizing magic, he can not increase beyond ten times gravity, but ten times gravity is enough to make most normal people fall to their knees or even breakdown completely Regeneration - can regenerate minor wounds Blood Bonds - Due to the nature of his blood even when cut his limbs remain together, it still hurts to be cut though Short Bio: Born from his mother who was human, he was raised peacefully with his father a former demonlord being defeated shortly after he turned four at the hands of a new Hero. As a normal child he lived peacefully but he was his father's child as he proclaimed himself as the demon lord at age ten, his mother never objected and as he went around the world he left her messages of his adventures as he subjugated the worthless humans under his rule, the heroes came after him but they either held back cause he was a child or they felt disappointed and chose to go after other demon lords. He has only ever fought two heroes, the first hero he beat with gravity alone as he wondered if all heroes were weak, the second hero had him beaten but never finished him off. All other heroes who have made genuine attempts are taken out by Riktor, while Shi-anna mostly does healing or plays with her hair. The hero who beat him just fights other heroes cause he now has a deep hatred for them. So these four now travel together to take over the world and proclaim himself as the one True Demon Lord as well as taking out heroes they also take out the competition, good or bad anyone who stands in the way of the demon lord must die. He also has close to ten thousand lesser demons all serving under him who generally look after each of his homes in each of his conquered villages. These lesser demons are pretty worthless and are just there to act as meat shields, which is the only purpose they have since they too weak to oppose the demon lord and too strong to ever side with weak humans... Name: Shi-anna Solstone Race: Elf Age:211 Appearance: Equipment : A magic sword - used to cut through most armor, however does very little damage but hurts A magic bow - cause elves love arrows Abilities: Elemental Magic - basic magic of the elements Fire,Earth,Air,Water, with more advanced froms of Lightning,Ice,Nature,Lava Short Bio : An elf who had originally set out on a quest to assist the heroes and help slay the demonlord. Having found the four heroes to all be jerks, she eventually joined the fifth hero, as they journeyed he did not bother her with flirtation or other stupid hero gimmicks then as he went missing she finally found him protecting a small boy, she also met a huge ogre of a demon. When she heard he chose to serve with the demonlord her first instinct was to kill all of them. However the boy appeared innocent at the time, but then she learned he was a true demon lord as he conquered villages one by one. She wanted to stop them, but she had to admit it was fun being with them. That and she soon learnt the demon lord had more to offer her, since most heroes just gave her cheap presents the demon lord gave her a beautiful necklace, which was ofcourse stolen from the princess of the one city they chose to invade but left after finding out the city had close to twenty new heroes which would have meant fighting for days, that and she objected to them spending anymore time in the city since it was noisy,dirty and also had too many people in it to kill. Also she wanted to go the village nearby which had a spa and lots of beautiful jewelry Name: Riktor Race: DemonBeast Age: 9015 Appearance: Equipment : Uses a really big and really heavy sword, however he prefers to fight with his barehands unless the battle requires him to go all out Abilities: Insane Strength - Known as the strongest Demon of his time, he has gotten a bit overweight and is not as epic as he used to be, though he is old his still able to level a small hill or village with a single blow, if he manages to hit anything. His eyesight is not as good as it used to be Beast Instinct - His eyesight is bad so he generally attacks based on smell and hearing and general sense of where things are, due to this he hardly ever manages to focus his attacks clearly, but if anything all he needs is one hit normally... Straight Forward Fast - He may be big but he is also fast, though he tends to move fairly linear Toughskin - His skin is tough, requires weapons made of atleast diamond or mithryl and up or the legendary demonbane to pierce his skin, however with enough force it is still possible to break through his flesh, his back is weak though due to him never taking hits from behind much Regeneration - All demons can regenerate and as long as he is not attacked in the same place repeatedly he generally heals wounds, however this regeneration is limited unless he consumes some meat and flesh, he generally keeps a wild goat to atleast help with his regeneration in serious fights, otherwise he regenerates by eating his enemies Short Bio: Abandoned by his former master after sustaining a back injury he searched for a new master for close to 8000 years, when finally he was found by a young little boy, this boy proclaimed himself as the demon lord and finding this to be an insult he attacked the child. Having learnt of the child's true status he served under the boy, however even having defeated the child in their first encounter he trained the child only to be beaten most of the time through loopholes and mistakes made by him. The record stands at 5 to the Strongest Demon, and 45 to the Demon Lord, they do not battle that often as the boy generally prefers to spend most of his time sleeping when his not gaining more minions or enslaving villages under his rule... Name:Alexandier Race: Human(Hero) Age: 21 Appearance: Equipment: Holy Sword - Escalber5 (because the other 4 were taken by the other heroes) Basic Knight Armor - He hates wearing the helmet since he likes his beautiful hair Abilities: Advanced Swordsmanship - His mastery of the sword is so great the people believed him to be a God of the Sword, however the truth is he is just exceptionally skilled at wielding a sword from any position that is all Sword Call - He can call his sword back to his right hand, however he is unable to move when doing this making it dangerous to use when there is no available time Sword Magic - He is able to enhance his blade with various magic as well as summon swords as well, however he prefers to use his main sword Holy Magic - As with most heroes he mastered holy magic to fight demons Short Bio: He was born a hero and as the other four heroes each managed to defeat the four demon lords of the time, he had nothing to do when he finally found there was a new demonlord, he hunted and searched only to find the demonlord was a child. Disappointed and bored he decided to attack the child, he was about to win when he hesitated only to nearly be killed by Riktor who after fighting for close to a week he won. Having beaten Riktor he was going to slay the DemonLord who happened to be sleeping. Feeling bored and a bit conflicted as the other four heroes each married princesses and bragged all the time about how strong they are, he teamed up with the Demonlord in order to slay the other four after which he laid each of their swords on their graves which later became the DemonLords Treasury where he kept his conquests as well as treasure which only the Hero cared about since demons do not really need gold or treasure to begin with. This hero was jealous but now serves the demon lord as a hero for all demons</s> <\|message\|>Obadiah P. Spider Obadiah's attempt at socializing was interrupted when a burst of bullets blew his top hat right off his head. He turned his head towards the attackers in shock, though his shocked expression looked the same as all his other ones to a non-arachnid. Bullets, my greatest weakness! He was tempted to seek cover, but no, no gentleman could abandon a damsel in distress. "Get behind me, my lady!" he said to the obviously far larger Jessibelle as he pulled a new top hat from his jacket. Instead of putting it on, he aimed the opening towards the attackers, bracing it with three of his arms, the fourth one still holding his cane. Instead of aiming at the turtle girl and her allies, whom he deemed a less immediate threat, he aimed it past them at the teenage boy with the Uzi. His hat made plof sound as a weighted red boxing glove flew out, and another one shortly afterwards. During it all, small spiders were beginning to crawl from all the openings in his suit, forming a puddle of them at his feet.</s> <\|message\|>LeeRoy the Immortal Scientist and the Voidman (The Voidman can't be seen or heard by anybody who isn't a telepath or LeeRoy.) As bullets whipped past her legs and blew Obadiah's hat off, Jessibelle couldn't seem any more dissinterested if she tried. She stepped over Obadiah and extended her legs so she could step even higher over the crowds. With one loud crash she stomped one of her legs on the ground, making herself not only visible but making a noise to draw attention to her even further. At fifteen feet high it would be impossible for her to go unnoticed. The swarm of warriors burst into the room, guns blazing and weapons at the ready. Unflinchingly she stood in their path and raised her voice to unbelievable levels. "Halt your advancce, 'Warriorss,' and heed my wordss!" Jessibelle's words rang out from above the masses, directed to all who stood before her. "I am Jesssibellle Ad Fortuna, Empresss of the Ahss Chini and one who makess demandss! I demand your greatesst warrior! Whossoever claimss this title among you, follow me! You are my perssonal prey! Facce me alone, or I hunt you and your companionss mysself! Until I find the one I am sseeking!" With that, Jessibelle turned herself around and passed over the group. Lowering herself into the crowd and heading towards a secluded corner of the antechamber they are in. That message was sure to draw the attention of the cockiest of the bunch. Jessibelle knows how heroes think, they argue and probably strike eachother once or twice. Then when they've finished arguing, the one who shouted the loudest and acted the toughest steps forth. Unfortunately, this isn't a fairy tale. Jessibelle doesn't enjoy fighting more than one person at a time, so once the one warrior engages her they won't be recieving any help from their friends.</s>	<\|message\|>Aura Eris Arcana Things were peaceful and quiet, the world was a nice place until that guy happened as the bullets came randomly blazing out an annoyed Elf took to the front of her group and invoked her magic as whirlwind spun around them blocking the bullets. The little demon lord was beginning to stir as he was annoyed by this interruption to his attempt at a nap. The Beast just smiled as he was thinking how fun the battle would soon be, meanwhile some arrows were also flying from some group of one two three, maybe four groups made up of the ten heroes. The traitor Hero just sat down as he summoned a large sword in front of him to block any stray hits. Things were going well until some arrows came raining down so to speak as the beast jumped to the side to dodge them while maintaining the little boy on his back, and just as they all were going to relax. The look of shock, fear and excitement on the faces of the Hero the Beast and the Elf as the Flaming Lady or Man was charging towards them. They could be in for some serious trouble as she began combining her water magic with her wind to create Ice Magic as she blasted it towards the Flaming Idiot in the hopes of dousing his flames. Meanwhile the hero ran and stopped before the witch and said, "Little girls and pet bugs should go home" The Demon Lord was still resting so to speak but there was a stray bullet from a different source that hit the beast in the arm making him bleed for a moment but it was not deep enough to do anything serious. The Beast looked serious as the largest of the enemies was missing and it was too soon to wake his master for dealing with this rabble. As he tried to keep his pose, the Hero seemed to be trying to talk the witch and grasshopper into leaving, while the elf girl was busy with her spell would it be a battle of mages and somewhere in the mess the Hero looked to the side and so did a few others as the demon lord woke up glaring at the giant spider before saying, "This is why no one likes Empresses anymore". What would happene to their team and how would this all play out, a basic fight and a basic battle but what magic is in store for our heroes and what other abilities were they hiding. All in all it was time to see where this game plan was heading and why the spider lady wants to fight one on one when fighting one on ten would be best.</s>
<\|description\|>Grace Whyte Alias: Hasn't decided yet Age: 16 Power/ Limitations: Water Manipulation -Can shape and manipulate water -Density manipulation/ water solidification -Is unable to create water, is limited to using existing sources. -Distance and the amount of matter depends on user's strength -Controlling and manipulating greater bodies is exhausting. Personality/History (because I have a bad habit of writing them both at the same time): Grace is a very kind and gentle soul, who's deeply concerned with ocean conservation and protection and has an odd love of mermaids. She's a very shy girl, doesn't like confrontation or attention being drawn to her and this often causes conflict with her strong views about environmentalism, more often than not her passion will overcome her shyness when needed. She is friendly and cheerful enough when she is around people she is comfortable with, but she's hardly one to raise her hand in class to ask a question. She and her mother moved into (the area because I never thought of a town name) when she was five, mostly to be closer to a school for people like her in preparation for when she entered high school. Her father was a normal human, but left them once Grace began displaying abilities like her mother. Grace's mother herself has fire manipulation powers, so it s theorised that the elemental manipulation part at least was passed down from mother to daughter, though manifested in a different way. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte The sun began streaming in through the window, the light hitting Grace in the face and causing it to scrunch up before she opened her eyes reluctantly and rolled over, lying on her back and placing her hands behind her head as she stared at the ceiling. Today was her first day of high school. It was still taking a little while for that fact to sink in, it seemed like just yesterday her and her mother were moving in even though it was more like ten or so years ago now, right before she'd started primary school. Truth be told she hadn't thought about it much until now. Glancing over at her clock Grace sighed, realising she had a lot of time to fill before school was even close to starting now. Sliding out of bed she walked over to the large fish tank in her room, kneeling down and watching the small collection of guppies swimming around. "Morning guys." She said, still staring at them. After a few moments, however she sighed and stood up. "Still not talking to me hu?" Grace had always been slightly hopeful that, along with her water powers, she would have developed the ability to talk to marine creatures. To this day she'd had no such luck. Walking into the bathroom she also checked her neck for gills, another hopeful wish of hers. Though she was aware by now she'd probably developed all the powers she was going to she still liked to hope. She took a fairly long shower, seeing as she had a lot of time to spare and then went back to her room. Before she closed the blinds she did glance out her window at the room across from hers next door but if Patric was awake then she couldn't see him because his curtains were closed. Shrugging she closed her blinds and got dressed before heading downstairs. The house was quiet and still; meaning her mother still hadn't gotten back from her most recent crime fighting endeavours or she had gotten back rather late and was just asleep upstairs sleeping. Grace set about making herself some breakfast and sat down in the living room, turning on the TV and flipping to a channel that had cartoons. She did pause briefly on a news channel where her mother was fighting off some crazy bug lady. Obviously the result of last night's call out. However it was quickly over and she flicked over to cartoons.</s> <\|message\|>Patrick Bleakley 'Remember Patrick, in order to use your Chi to its full potential you must be at harmony with yourself at all times. You can achieve this by daily meditiation.' The words of his first official master drifted lazily through Patrick's mind as he sat in a cross legged position with his eyes closed and hands on his knees. Every morning started this way, three hours of meditation, just as his master had instructed him. His eyes opened as his second alarm clock went off, indicating that it was time to begin moving on to the next step of his morning regiment. As he rose from his seated position he removed his T-Shirt in a single fluid motion, allowing his incredibly honed teenaged body to be exposed. Moving to the window he parted his curtains with haste to let in the sunlight, the sight of which brought a smile to his face. He had never stayed in one place for very long in his youth, but he had always spent his summers in this home. He glanced over at Grace's window but figured she was already starting her own morning routine when he didn't see her. Moving back to the center of his rather spacious room he stretched his arms to their limits above his head while at the same time rolling his neck slowly from one side to the other. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he slowly began to lower his arms before moving through the first few forms of his preferred martial style. The exercise is designed to not only stretch all of his muscles in prepartion for the day, but also improve his muscle memory. While he is highly skilled in this particular fighting style he still has a long way to go before he can be considered a master of it, which is why he has been using it's kata's for his morning routine. After he had completed up to the advanced forms he dropped into a more relaxed state to give his muscles a moment to rest. With the recovery period finished he kneeled down and placed his palms on the floor. Without hesitation he altered his position and began doing push-ups. Finishing with his push-ups he quite literally jumped back to his feet before once more settling into a relaxed stance. With his chosen exercised completed he made his way to the bathroom that connected to his room. Setting the shower up the way he liked, he looked at himself in the mirror for a bit to let the water heat up. Flashing a brief smile at his reflection he hopped into the shower. 15 minutes later he was drying himself off and putting on a different T-Shirt, this one a plain white color, and a pair of jeans. With his fingers running through his hair he entered his room again and glanced briefly at one of his clocks. Realizing that he still had an hour before school would start he signed a bit before heading downstairs. Patrick didn't bother checking for his father as he was never home until later in the evening, and even then he would often leave shortly after. Instead he grabbed a protein bar and headed out the door, knowing that he would be eating at the school later on anyway. Taking a couple of bites out of the bar he covered the short distance between his home and Grace's. While many would knock before entering a friends house, he and Grace had spent a lot of time together during his summers so he just walked right in. Without so much as a word he waltzed into her living room and plopped down next to her, just as he finished the bar. He focused on the TV for a couple of minutes before abruptly standing back up. "Alright this is boring Grace! Lets go for a walk instead! I know we still have time before school, but we can take our time. I will be waiting!" Without giving her time to reply he made his way out of her house to await her outside.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte The sound of the door opening caught Grace a little off guard for a moment and she leaned back very slightly, looking to see who came in. She had somewhat been expecting her mother, still unsure if she was upstairs asleep or out fighting for justice and junk. However when she saw Patrick she smiled slightly as he sat down beside her. She smiled at him and greeted him good morning then returned to watching her show. The peace lasted only a few moments before Patrick stood up abruptly and declared they were going for a walk, causing her to make a face at him, not that he noticed because he was already gone. "But… but… ninja turtles…" She complained quietly to herself before she sighed and stood up. Walking around her house she began making sure everything was closed and locked, because she'd never hear the end of it if they got robbed before grabbing her bag and heading outside to catch up. "I hope you realise you've interrupted a summer long tradition this morning. For weeks now I've gotten up and eaten my cereal whilst watching Ninja Turtles. Now I'll never know if they beat the Shredder for the zillionth time." It had rained last night, so everything was glistening with water and puddles covered the ground. She reached out, letting her hands brush against the plants as she passed, small water droplets transferring onto her hand or falling onto the ground. She always loved the smell of everything after it had rained. It smelt fresher, cleaner. Gray clouds still hung overhead, meaning they may even get more rain later. The girl felt, needless to say, most at home when she was surrounded by water. Still, despite all her moaning and groaning she was happy to see him. "So… are you as nervous about school today as I am?" Truth be told if it wasn't for Patrick she probably wouldn't have seen many people during the holidays. Grace wasn't the most social of butterflies, often fearing that someone may unintentionally discover her powers if she got too close to them. So it had been hard finding others her age who also had powers. Her mother had networked a little to try and find friends for her, but none of them had worked out as well as the accidental friendship she'd formed with the boy net door.</s> <\|message\|>Patrick Bleakley Patrick found it insane that Grace could just sit around and watch TV without doing anything else, it just didn't make any sense to him as it was a waste of time in his eyes. The most television he had ever watched was the rare times Grace would actually get him to stay sitting in her house rather than dragging her around the city. As time slowly ticked by, and Patrick's boredom increased, he began jogging in place waiting with eager anticipation for her. Today was a big day for both of them, as it marked their first days of attending the superpower exclusive high school. While many would be nervous at the idea, Grace likely among them, Patrick was only filled with excitement. Since he would be with teachers and students like him he knew that his father wouldn't dare make him move again. As Grace finally exited her house Patrick flashed her his brightest smile as his jogging motion ceased. "Jeez did you take long enough Grace? I probably could have ran there and back with time to spare!" While he meant it as a jest Patrick also knew it wasn't too far off the mark. He knew that there were some people who could outrun him, those with speed specific powers, he also knew that not many could keep up with him. He couldn't help but roll his eyes as Grace aired her grievances at his interruption. "Come on! It is highly unlikely that you were watching a new episode! With how much time you spent with that TV this summer I would be surprised if there were any shows left for you to watch." Patrick shook his head a bit in amusement as he began walking along side Grace. He hadn't noticed it earlier but it clearly had rained either in the early morning or last night. This brought a much simpler smile to his face, as he knew Grace would feel a lot more relaxed about what the day would bring with so much of her element surrounding her. As if reacting to his thoughts Grace began running her hands along the droplets the clung to the leaves of the various fauna, causing his smile to grow a bit. "How could I be nervous with so much excitement rushing through me? I am pumped to finally be around people like us!" He casually tossed his arm around her shoulders as he spoke, an action he didn't even notice. For as long as he could remember he and Grace had been there for one another, which was more than welcome for Patrick. Between the charity work he did during the summer, and the constant moving during the rest of the months he never really had the chance to get close to anyone, let alone someone who had powers. "I know you are nervous, but can you honestly say that there isn't at least a small part of you that is excited?"</s>	<\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace rolled her eyes slightly seeing Patrick jogging in place. The kid was like a rabbit. She was pretty sure he couldn't stay in place for more than a few minutes if you paid him. She wasn't entirely sure, but Grace had also theorised more than once that he probably jogged on the spot whilst he was sleeping too. When he stated she had taken too long the girl pointed at him threateningly. "Don't make me hurt you." An entirely empty threat. She wasn't sure she even could hurt Patrick if she tried. He seemed very hardy and she theorised it was partially due to his powers. Not to mention there was some height difference between the pair. "First you interrupt my Ninja Turtles then you insult my honour. My honour good sir! I was locking up my house to make sure we didn't get robbed. And the amount of TV I watched during the holidays is none of your business. I happened to go on these amazing emotional adventures with those wonderful people with strange hair." The girl defended herself. "Just because some of us have ants in their pants doesn't mean others can't take time out to rot their minds." As Patrick threw his arm around her and declared how excited she was she smiled slightly, honestly happy for him. But could just not bring herself t share in the excitement. She had never been the most confident person in herself. She had developed powers at quite an early age, but hadn't gained control of them for a number of years. This fear that her powers may act up on her without notice led to her being fairly withdrawn, believing that if she wasn't given a provocation nothing would happen because she knew if anyone had discovered her powers then they'd likely would have had to move. She wasn't sure what Patrick would have thought if he'd come home for summer vacation and she hadn't been there one year with no explanation no forwarding address and no way of contacting her. In the end she hadn't gained much control until middle school. His excitement to be around others like them wasn't helping her anxiety. It was another fear of hers. They had never met anyone else like them before and it was difficult to be friends with normal people because you could never be one hundred percent yourself with them. What if he got there and realised there were a lot cooler people he could be hanging out with? People more like him? He wouldn't have to settle for her anymore. Realising she'd been quiet for a long time and she'd been staring at the pavement as they'd walked Grace blinked slightly and looked back up to him, smiling. "Yeah, I guess so." She never had been a good liar either.</s>
<\|description\|>Patrick Bleakley Alias: Hasn't decided yet Age: 16 Power/ Limitations: First Power- Enhanced Condition Second Power- Mystical Martial Arts. Patrick uses Chi/Ki/Spirit to augment traditional martial arts. Personality/History (I decided just to combine them as you did ^^): Patrick is a very kind individual, always wanting to help those in need, he even spends any free time he can get during the summer months to work for various charities. Despite the fact that he doesn't have to do any upkeep to maintain his physical attributes he still keeps up a fairly religious training schedule. He is also very confident in himself, though he isn't arrogant as his father made sure to instill in Patrick the firm distinction between the two. For as long as Patrick could remember he had been raised by his father, though he has yet to learn the reason for his mothers absence. His childhood didn't suffer at all from this however as his father loved him deeply. The only thing Patrick found a bit strange was how firm his father was on him never growing arrogant. According to his dad arrogance was, and is, the leading cause of the current state of the world. While he didn't get any of his father's powers, it was his dad that made it so Patrick did receive his gifts. His dad never really went into detail about his powers, but Patrick believes that they are related to the manipulation of gravity from the rare times when his father would use his ability when he thought Patrick was not around. Due to the combination of powers Patrick has he moved often as a child in order to learn from a wide variety of martial art trainers. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte The sun began streaming in through the window, the light hitting Grace in the face and causing it to scrunch up before she opened her eyes reluctantly and rolled over, lying on her back and placing her hands behind her head as she stared at the ceiling. Today was her first day of high school. It was still taking a little while for that fact to sink in, it seemed like just yesterday her and her mother were moving in even though it was more like ten or so years ago now, right before she'd started primary school. Truth be told she hadn't thought about it much until now. Glancing over at her clock Grace sighed, realising she had a lot of time to fill before school was even close to starting now. Sliding out of bed she walked over to the large fish tank in her room, kneeling down and watching the small collection of guppies swimming around. "Morning guys." She said, still staring at them. After a few moments, however she sighed and stood up. "Still not talking to me hu?" Grace had always been slightly hopeful that, along with her water powers, she would have developed the ability to talk to marine creatures. To this day she'd had no such luck. Walking into the bathroom she also checked her neck for gills, another hopeful wish of hers. Though she was aware by now she'd probably developed all the powers she was going to she still liked to hope. She took a fairly long shower, seeing as she had a lot of time to spare and then went back to her room. Before she closed the blinds she did glance out her window at the room across from hers next door but if Patric was awake then she couldn't see him because his curtains were closed. Shrugging she closed her blinds and got dressed before heading downstairs. The house was quiet and still; meaning her mother still hadn't gotten back from her most recent crime fighting endeavours or she had gotten back rather late and was just asleep upstairs sleeping. Grace set about making herself some breakfast and sat down in the living room, turning on the TV and flipping to a channel that had cartoons. She did pause briefly on a news channel where her mother was fighting off some crazy bug lady. Obviously the result of last night's call out. However it was quickly over and she flicked over to cartoons.</s> <\|message\|>Patrick Bleakley 'Remember Patrick, in order to use your Chi to its full potential you must be at harmony with yourself at all times. You can achieve this by daily meditiation.' The words of his first official master drifted lazily through Patrick's mind as he sat in a cross legged position with his eyes closed and hands on his knees. Every morning started this way, three hours of meditation, just as his master had instructed him. His eyes opened as his second alarm clock went off, indicating that it was time to begin moving on to the next step of his morning regiment. As he rose from his seated position he removed his T-Shirt in a single fluid motion, allowing his incredibly honed teenaged body to be exposed. Moving to the window he parted his curtains with haste to let in the sunlight, the sight of which brought a smile to his face. He had never stayed in one place for very long in his youth, but he had always spent his summers in this home. He glanced over at Grace's window but figured she was already starting her own morning routine when he didn't see her. Moving back to the center of his rather spacious room he stretched his arms to their limits above his head while at the same time rolling his neck slowly from one side to the other. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he slowly began to lower his arms before moving through the first few forms of his preferred martial style. The exercise is designed to not only stretch all of his muscles in prepartion for the day, but also improve his muscle memory. While he is highly skilled in this particular fighting style he still has a long way to go before he can be considered a master of it, which is why he has been using it's kata's for his morning routine. After he had completed up to the advanced forms he dropped into a more relaxed state to give his muscles a moment to rest. With the recovery period finished he kneeled down and placed his palms on the floor. Without hesitation he altered his position and began doing push-ups. Finishing with his push-ups he quite literally jumped back to his feet before once more settling into a relaxed stance. With his chosen exercised completed he made his way to the bathroom that connected to his room. Setting the shower up the way he liked, he looked at himself in the mirror for a bit to let the water heat up. Flashing a brief smile at his reflection he hopped into the shower. 15 minutes later he was drying himself off and putting on a different T-Shirt, this one a plain white color, and a pair of jeans. With his fingers running through his hair he entered his room again and glanced briefly at one of his clocks. Realizing that he still had an hour before school would start he signed a bit before heading downstairs. Patrick didn't bother checking for his father as he was never home until later in the evening, and even then he would often leave shortly after. Instead he grabbed a protein bar and headed out the door, knowing that he would be eating at the school later on anyway. Taking a couple of bites out of the bar he covered the short distance between his home and Grace's. While many would knock before entering a friends house, he and Grace had spent a lot of time together during his summers so he just walked right in. Without so much as a word he waltzed into her living room and plopped down next to her, just as he finished the bar. He focused on the TV for a couple of minutes before abruptly standing back up. "Alright this is boring Grace! Lets go for a walk instead! I know we still have time before school, but we can take our time. I will be waiting!" Without giving her time to reply he made his way out of her house to await her outside.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte The sound of the door opening caught Grace a little off guard for a moment and she leaned back very slightly, looking to see who came in. She had somewhat been expecting her mother, still unsure if she was upstairs asleep or out fighting for justice and junk. However when she saw Patrick she smiled slightly as he sat down beside her. She smiled at him and greeted him good morning then returned to watching her show. The peace lasted only a few moments before Patrick stood up abruptly and declared they were going for a walk, causing her to make a face at him, not that he noticed because he was already gone. "But… but… ninja turtles…" She complained quietly to herself before she sighed and stood up. Walking around her house she began making sure everything was closed and locked, because she'd never hear the end of it if they got robbed before grabbing her bag and heading outside to catch up. "I hope you realise you've interrupted a summer long tradition this morning. For weeks now I've gotten up and eaten my cereal whilst watching Ninja Turtles. Now I'll never know if they beat the Shredder for the zillionth time." It had rained last night, so everything was glistening with water and puddles covered the ground. She reached out, letting her hands brush against the plants as she passed, small water droplets transferring onto her hand or falling onto the ground. She always loved the smell of everything after it had rained. It smelt fresher, cleaner. Gray clouds still hung overhead, meaning they may even get more rain later. The girl felt, needless to say, most at home when she was surrounded by water. Still, despite all her moaning and groaning she was happy to see him. "So… are you as nervous about school today as I am?" Truth be told if it wasn't for Patrick she probably wouldn't have seen many people during the holidays. Grace wasn't the most social of butterflies, often fearing that someone may unintentionally discover her powers if she got too close to them. So it had been hard finding others her age who also had powers. Her mother had networked a little to try and find friends for her, but none of them had worked out as well as the accidental friendship she'd formed with the boy net door.</s>	<\|message\|>Patrick Bleakley Patrick found it insane that Grace could just sit around and watch TV without doing anything else, it just didn't make any sense to him as it was a waste of time in his eyes. The most television he had ever watched was the rare times Grace would actually get him to stay sitting in her house rather than dragging her around the city. As time slowly ticked by, and Patrick's boredom increased, he began jogging in place waiting with eager anticipation for her. Today was a big day for both of them, as it marked their first days of attending the superpower exclusive high school. While many would be nervous at the idea, Grace likely among them, Patrick was only filled with excitement. Since he would be with teachers and students like him he knew that his father wouldn't dare make him move again. As Grace finally exited her house Patrick flashed her his brightest smile as his jogging motion ceased. "Jeez did you take long enough Grace? I probably could have ran there and back with time to spare!" While he meant it as a jest Patrick also knew it wasn't too far off the mark. He knew that there were some people who could outrun him, those with speed specific powers, he also knew that not many could keep up with him. He couldn't help but roll his eyes as Grace aired her grievances at his interruption. "Come on! It is highly unlikely that you were watching a new episode! With how much time you spent with that TV this summer I would be surprised if there were any shows left for you to watch." Patrick shook his head a bit in amusement as he began walking along side Grace. He hadn't noticed it earlier but it clearly had rained either in the early morning or last night. This brought a much simpler smile to his face, as he knew Grace would feel a lot more relaxed about what the day would bring with so much of her element surrounding her. As if reacting to his thoughts Grace began running her hands along the droplets the clung to the leaves of the various fauna, causing his smile to grow a bit. "How could I be nervous with so much excitement rushing through me? I am pumped to finally be around people like us!" He casually tossed his arm around her shoulders as he spoke, an action he didn't even notice. For as long as he could remember he and Grace had been there for one another, which was more than welcome for Patrick. Between the charity work he did during the summer, and the constant moving during the rest of the months he never really had the chance to get close to anyone, let alone someone who had powers. "I know you are nervous, but can you honestly say that there isn't at least a small part of you that is excited?"</s>
<\|description\|>Light Alias(s): Light Age: 24 Affiliations: Heroes Factions: Reformists. Description: Light wears no costume, and fights in her civilian cloths if you can call them that. Light is a 5"5 tall female humanoid with cartoonish looking features including an overly large round head with no nose and very large eyes, fin-like ears, skinny biceps with large forearms and hands which have sharp fingers. She has a more exaggerated hourglass shape with large hips, with her legs ending in sharp points where her feet should be. She wears a blue and white sleeveless dress that has an M cut in the front to show her legs. She has pure white skin, short blue hair, and black eyes with orange iris'. Powers: Adaptive Total Regeneration: Light can regenerate from any injury except atomization, even supernatural ones such as having her soul split and the like. Additionally after regenerating from an injury, Light will gain resistance to that type of injury, her body changing texture to show what she is resistant to. This temporary resistance goes away after a couple of hours. Weakness: Light can't adapt to injuries caused by Iron or Silver. Contact with Iron causes a mild burning sensation while contact with Silver causes violent bursts of flame. These injuries can lead to atomization, causing Light to die and respawn at a random site after awhile with a bit of a memory loss depending on what she was killed by. Atomization without iron/silver does almost nothing while Iron does a little and Silver can do quite a bit. Naturally this psuedo immortality has made Light very careless in combat, at least when Silver isn't involved. Energy Siphon: Light passively steals energy from whatever she is touching. She can't control this effect at all, however the more damaged she is, the more energy she leeches from things. Weakness: Light can't siphon energy from objects made of Iron or Silver. Pocket Space: Light can store objects in a small pocket dimension under/behind her dress. Weakness: Light can't store objects made of Iron or Silver. Void Slip: Light can pull a hole out from under her dress, giving her a personal wormhole to any place within her sightlines. Weakness: Light can't place her exit hole on any objects made of Iron or Silver. Super Strength: Light has superhuman strength due to her Faye powers. Weakness: Light's strength is reduced when in contact with Iron and drastically reduced when in contact with Silver, or when hitting objects made of Iron or Silver. Skills: Light is familiar with quite a few things due to having to grow up alone on the streets, but doesn't have mastery over anything worth mentioning. She does learn quite fast however, when she isn't fooling around. Equipment: None, Light stores random things in her Pocket Space though. Ranking: A (Optional) Brief History: Light was an orphan that grew up on the streets of LA, making a living using her powers more for the entertainment of others than anything. One day the government took notice and took her in, Light being a big help with the downfall of Aperture. For the past few years the government has made Light into a pop star to try to foster better relationships with metas and non metas, while still using her unique powers to stop terrorists or the like.</s> <\|message\|>Alto Ganze "Emperor, an employee has requested to see you." He snapped awake, drool running down his chin. He blearily raised his head to see Theo standing over him, a rather neutral expression on his face. "They are waiting to be let in." "Uh, just hold up a sec." Sitting up in his chair, he stretched a little as he wiped the drool off of his chin. He stood up, straightening his lab coat and making sure his hair pins were still in place and that his hair was neatly tied up. "Con, check their employee ID please." He said aloud. "Yes, master." she said from somewhere behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see Con, staring out of the window as always. "No ID found." she said after a few moments. "Ugh, damn it." Alto said to himself. "Not this again…" Now that Alto was a CEO, he'd been introduced to the world of corporate espionage. It was sort of a rare occurrence, generally speaking, but last time he'd had to deal with corporate espionage, he'd blown out all the windows in his office. A lot's changed in five years… He looked back at Theo, who now had a physical form. He'd made the physical manifestation program not long after the destruction of Aperture, and ever since then Theo and Con had rarely ever gone back. Theo mainly stayed because he was more useful to Alto in his physical form, but Alto didn't really know why Con stayed around all the time. She seemed to be very interested in the world, and how it worked. Not that she ever told him, but it hardly really mattered. He could see it in her eyes. On another note, he'd given them free reign over their appearance. Theo had been fairly straight forward, he was about average height, short black hair and dark eyes. For some reason he always wore a butler uniform, not that Alto really cared that much. Con however was somewhat more interesting. She looked about 10 or 12 years old which fitted her voice somewhat, she had short black hair which only went just past her ears, but she also had mismatched eye colours, one blue and the other hazel. She'd tried a few different clothes in the beginning when he'd first activated his program, but in the end she'd settled for a rather airy yellow dress. But in the end, it may as well have been wallpaper. In reality, they were really just his arms. He looked down at them now, the true forms of Theo and Con. Theo was his left arm, a seamless, grey-blue metal-like construct. The glowing circle on the back of his left hand pulsated softly. Con was his right arm, a complex looking piece of machinery made entirely of black steel. His right arm's complexity was really just to satisfy his sense of aesthetic value. Alto stifled a yawn as he sat back down into his chair. "Theo," He said as he rested his chin on his hands, "Send them in." "Yes, emperor." Theo walked towards the heavy double doors that made up the entrance to his office, tugging on one of the knobs and pulling the door open. He said something to the guest that he didn't quite hear, but he knew it was something along the lines of 'Mr. Ganze will see you now' or something. Alto watched as Theo led a woman with long black hair holding some kind of clipboard into the room, and took his place beside Alto's desk. "Mr. Ganze sir," the woman said, holding her clipboard out, "Here is the monthly financial report." He looked at the clipboard for a few awkward moments. It was completely blank. He put his head in his hands and sighed. It's her... "Sal, are you even trying?" "I-I'm sorry?" she said in a worried tone. "Sal, it's the middle of the month," Alto said, "There's nothing on that clipboard, and I don't even handle financial reports." "Oh, right. The woman said, her voice becoming more childish and juvenile. "I forgot about that." As Alto watched, the woman slowly changed form into another little girl. She looked to be a little older than Con, but she still wouldn't have been over 12. She had sandy blonde hair, similarly coloured eyes and she also had cat ears and a tail, for some reason or another (kind of like this). "Why do you like that form so much anyway?" He asked wearily. She skipped around the table over to Alto's side. "Because," She said, jumping up and putting her arms around his neck. "I know how much you like it..." she whispered in his ear. Alto sighed as he pushed her off, letting her drop onto the floor. "C'mon!" She said, pouting slightly, "That's no fun." "You know I'm working, right?" He said, "Why are you even here?" "I wanted to see you!" She said sweetly, opening her arms widely, as if gesturing for a hug. Alto didn't oblige. "If you only wanted to see me, you could've just asked you know." He turned to look over his shoulder to see Con staring at them with a kind of wistful look in her eyes. Well, she always looked wistful, but she was more wistful than usual right now. "Uh, hey Con?" He said carefully, "Do we have any messages?" He saw the wistful look fade slightly, as she replied. "Yes, we have received a call from the Reformists council." "Oh, the council," He said, "I wonder what they want with me. Con, play it back, please." [-----] "So, Cedric wants me to do stuff." He said after finishing the message. "Hey Theo, have I got anything coming up?" "You have no appointments, emperor." "Alright, thanks Theo." Alto pulled out his phone and sent a message back to Cedric specifically. It was sort of a secret, but he had the phone numbers of all of the people in the Reformists council. <May as well drop the pretense, Illegal Stuff Pty. Ltd. Is just me right now, plus a couple of part timers. I'll do the job for $5 total if it's interesting enough, I don't need an extra $10 million. Just tell me when and I'll go and visit Gary.> He pressed send, then got up and stretched. Sal popped up from under his desk to look at his phone. "Who's Cedric?" Sal asked. "He's an old acquaintance I suppose." Alto replied, "I don't know him that well though."</s> <\|message\|>Formerly Hayden Williams, now Tribuo Spero. Five men sat in a small, white, room illuminated by white ceiling lights and multiple monitors situated at various terminals. However one man stood in a black business suit. The large monitors showed various angles and data readouts on a particular figure, only one monitor was absolutely dedicated to numbers. The data monitor showed various statistics, power levels, and other data the scientists would record and study for later. The man in the black suit began to speak up. "Are you sure the speed function actually works this time?" A scientist with a slight beard responded. "Yes, I tested it in my lab personally." "Then let's see how it preforms in 'battle'." The suited man said while making air quotes. Speaking into a connected microphone the scientist this time addressed their subject. "Overdrive, you may begin when you receive the signal. As you may have noticed we've set up multiple cardboard targets so we don't have a repeat of last time, your goal is remove all the civilians from the area and 'apprehend' the terrorist. Keep in mind if you pass we'll finally be able to unveil you." "I understand Dr. Smith." The robot answered back, some of the screens back in the monitor room began to transcribe the previous conversation. Overdrive himself was in an significantly larger area, an 'abandoned' warehouse built specifically for his testing. The warehouse itself looked brand new, but inside were a multitude of empty cargo containers, cardboard figures spread around the area, and 'innocents'. In a few moments after the Doctor's last transition red letters showed up in Overdrive's view, the letters read 'Ready' then proceeded into a count down from five. As the timer dinged '0' a small puff of steam pushed itself out of his back, and in a moment that's all there was left of Overdrive as he took off. Overdrive left blurred streams of red and blue in his after wake. His first goal would be to gather all 'people' and put them in the safe box, a taped off corner of the warehouse, and then 'subdue' or break the cardboard men; while anyone could do this, Overdrive was being timed. His metal pattered rapidly against the cement flooring, leaving slight footprints after every other step, the safe box quickly filled up in a matter of seconds. Returning to the false terrorists Overdrive promptly dug his fists into each one, causing the wooden fakes to explode into a million splinters. With his mission done Overdrive simply stood motionless in front of the warehouse doors. "Was this demonstration satisfactory Doctor?" Overdrive asked, his voice seemed to carry some eagerness. Back in the monitor lab multiple scientists were typing away at their keyboards or writing down numbers, equations, and various other notes. "Yes, thank you Overdrive. Wait for the company vehicle to pick you up, we don't want to unveil you quite yet." Dr. Smith responded via microphone. This time directing his head to the man in the suit the doctor spoke up again. "He clocked in at 338 m/s, just under the speed of sound. With some adjustments I think I can improve that slightly, but he's already far faster than we anticipated." Turning his chair around he continued. "So, what do you think Mr. Hannon?" "I think I want it faster. They say there's always a bigger fish, I want him to be that fish." Hannon said as he left for the door. "I barely managed to push him this far. I can make some slight adjustments to his magnetic actuators but to actually reach or break the sound barrier is impossible!" "So make it possible, or I'll find someone who can." Hannon replied almost with a growl, after his response he promptly slid the sterile white door open and calmly walked out, the doctor simply fell back into his chair and let out a heavy sigh of frustration.</s>	<\|message\|>Light After what happened a few years ago, Light had been sponsored by a division of the Government and given lots of media exposure, eventually becoming one of the most well known heroic metas of the country. She guessed that it was because she was easier to market than the others that had fought alongside her or something, or maybe it was because she already had fans prior. At any rate she was no longer living in small dank apartments, but some nice looking ones all paid for by her government contacts. Light didn't spend most of her time at home though, but was mostly on patrol as it was her obligation now. No more shows at comedy clubs, just patrolling the streets for crime and the occasional meet and greet. It was sort of boring to her, as crime wasn't all that common and the meet and greets where mostly people who seemed like they had a perpetual stick up their butts and wouldn't know how to laugh properly if their lives depended on it. It was a new life she had gotten accustomed to over the past couple years. She did long for the bigger adventures she had back when she was recruited on the meta response force, but at least now people cheered for the most part when they saw her. "At least I get paid to walk around and occasionally fight, so I guess thats a good thing." Light said to herself as she moved around the city, sticking to the rooftops so that she didn't get mobbed or shot, depending on what district she was in. Speaking of getting paid, a few moments later, she was called in by her controller. It took the government a long time, but they managed to make a comms device that worked on cartoon physics. The downside is that it was incredibly simple and could only send and recieve messages on one frequency. When she reached the building, she was told of a meta that seemed to gain powers from other metas by eating them. "Wonderful. Like that guy 8 months ago who used that tail thing to get powers. yay." Light said, moving out with Warpath to try and locate this 'bo'.</s>
<\|description\|>Light Alias(s): Light Age: 24 Affiliations: Heroes Factions: Reformists. Description: Light wears no costume, and fights in her civilian cloths if you can call them that. Light is a 5"5 tall female humanoid with cartoonish looking features including an overly large round head with no nose and very large eyes, fin-like ears, skinny biceps with large forearms and hands which have sharp fingers. She has a more exaggerated hourglass shape with large hips, with her legs ending in sharp points where her feet should be. She wears a blue and white sleeveless dress that has an M cut in the front to show her legs. She has pure white skin, short blue hair, and black eyes with orange iris'. Powers: Adaptive Total Regeneration: Light can regenerate from any injury except atomization, even supernatural ones such as having her soul split and the like. Additionally after regenerating from an injury, Light will gain resistance to that type of injury, her body changing texture to show what she is resistant to. This temporary resistance goes away after a couple of hours. Weakness: Light can't adapt to injuries caused by Iron or Silver. Contact with Iron causes a mild burning sensation while contact with Silver causes violent bursts of flame. These injuries can lead to atomization, causing Light to die and respawn at a random site after awhile with a bit of a memory loss depending on what she was killed by. Atomization without iron/silver does almost nothing while Iron does a little and Silver can do quite a bit. Naturally this psuedo immortality has made Light very careless in combat, at least when Silver isn't involved. Energy Siphon: Light passively steals energy from whatever she is touching. She can't control this effect at all, however the more damaged she is, the more energy she leeches from things. Weakness: Light can't siphon energy from objects made of Iron or Silver. Pocket Space: Light can store objects in a small pocket dimension under/behind her dress. Weakness: Light can't store objects made of Iron or Silver. Void Slip: Light can pull a hole out from under her dress, giving her a personal wormhole to any place within her sightlines. Weakness: Light can't place her exit hole on any objects made of Iron or Silver. Super Strength: Light has superhuman strength due to her Faye powers. Weakness: Light's strength is reduced when in contact with Iron and drastically reduced when in contact with Silver, or when hitting objects made of Iron or Silver. Skills: Light is familiar with quite a few things due to having to grow up alone on the streets, but doesn't have mastery over anything worth mentioning. She does learn quite fast however, when she isn't fooling around. Equipment: None, Light stores random things in her Pocket Space though. Ranking: A (Optional) Brief History: Light was an orphan that grew up on the streets of LA, making a living using her powers more for the entertainment of others than anything. One day the government took notice and took her in, Light being a big help with the downfall of Aperture. For the past few years the government has made Light into a pop star to try to foster better relationships with metas and non metas, while still using her unique powers to stop terrorists or the like.</s> <\|message\|>Formerly Hayden Williams, now Tribuo Spero. "Well it's crude, but it should work. If you want you're more than welcome to join him, I'm confident you'll win." The Doctor's voice sounded once again inside the androids' head. Overdrive shrugged, the offer for a 'friendly rumble' seemed somewhat suspicious, but training against someone confident would be a good experience. "Alright then." Overdrive said as he launched himself into the air with a mighty leap, and landed himself on the far end of the arena. "I'm ready when you are." Overdrive spoke as he placed himself into a comfortable fighting position, his eyes slowly began to glow a bright red instead of it's previously passive blue.</s> <\|message\|>Alto Ganze "If that is your wish, Empress, then I will take my leave." Theo stood up from his chair, and started to walk away from the table. He took one last backward glance before he willed his physical form to collapse and return to the Emperor. He started to dissolve into glowing blue energy starting from the head going down and when the dissolution reached his feet, his consciousness suddenly shifted and he was back in his original body. "Emperor," He said, "I have returned." -- "Oh, hey Theo." Alto said, looking down at his left arm. "How did it go?" "We were cut short," He replied, "It is likely the Empress would have questioned further, but her guardian arrived." "Bummer. Would've been interesting, I suppose." Alto was currently working in one of the maintenance labs, on a robot arm that had been sent in by one of his part-timers. Currently the arm he was working on was probably the only legal rocket punch robot arm in existence. Con could do a rocket punch, but Con wasn't really a robot. Still, this isn't exactly the best for her. The owner of the robot arm he was working on worked sometimes for Alto's secret mercenary company, Illegal Stuff Pty. Ltd. Although she was only ever interested in contract assassination. Actually, one of his other part timers also seemed to prefer contract assassination, or just any kind of job he could fight people. Being part of Illegal Stuff Pty. Ltd. was kind of bad for contract assassination because Alto mainly took jobs like robbing a bank or infiltration and stuff. Don't know why she'd ever use this. He sighed. He had a lot of work to do tonight, firstly he had to fill a few hacking orders he'd gotten for the company and then he'd have to check over the details of the compound that Ruby had sent over to Theo. "Con, can you run some simulations on this arm please?" "Yes, master." As Con ran some tests, he reflected a little on his workload. Maybe it was a bad idea to simultaneously run a mercenary corporation and a technology corporation at the same time. "It should work as intended, master." "Cool. Got it done in..." He looked uo at the clock, "About 10 minutes? That was fast." He picked up another robot limb in need of repair, this one was pretty standard. "It's almost time to go home." He said, "The future promises to be interesting."</s> <\|message\|>Jackson Ducarthy, Kuro, Mu Insomnium The red glow of Insomnium's armor intensified and began to pulsate as he charged forward, moving fast but not overwhelmingly so. His constructs were, however, as 5 balls of shadows shot up from the Arena floor around Robo-Cop and proceeded to bcome out lined in red energy before exploding violently. Insomnium wasn't focused on that, he had seen the guy move earlier, it was most likely to fast for something like that. Instead he kept his eyes and senses open for where ever he moved to, forming several spears made of shadows to go flying after him. They'd also become outlined in red before exploding as soon as they got near the robot man. Insomnium would also be running towards his position, creating a pair of blades to be dual-wielded, extruding his limited control over the 'Light', as Damien liked to call it, to coat said blades, giving them a jagged, white outline. It wasn't the strong, but it would be enough to slightly paralyze a regular human being, and robot's were usually more susceptible to such things, so it was worth a shot. He would lash out with a furious barrage of slashes and strikes, aiming for the joints so as to see if he could disable the bot. Jackson Jackson could only sink deeper into his arms as he heard the lady chastise him. What was he supposed to say, 'I'm sorry, it wasn't me but some alternate persona in my head that made me say it.' Yeah, he may have been isolated from people for all of his life, but even he knew that wouldn't work. As he was sinking into despair, he heard something from the T.V running in the upper corner of the cafe that instantly drew his attention. Janus Corp. On the T.V screen was a newswoman, he didn't know her name, who face was pale as she stood in front of the Headquarters of the Tech company, Janus Corp. While it wasn't the at the top of the market, and had a reputation for illegal activity, it had still been a rather powerful company. And now everyone inside the building had been slaughtered, if the woman was to be believed. She didn't explain how beyond the horridness of it, but Jackson didn't need her to say anything. As he sank back into his seat, deeper than before, he covered his ears to ward of the screams of terror and pain that began to assault him, but hone can't hide from their own mind. The cafe faded away as he remembered the events that had happened only a few hours ago. It had been a regular day in hell, painful experiments in the morning followed by tiring training. He had been about to do something, he had forgotten, when he felt a familiar pressure take hold. A dark insanity that chilled him to the bone. Mu had awoken. He fell over, trying to hold him back, waiting for the scientist to bring the usual lab rat for Mu to sate his bloodlust on,but instead they placed him in a cage and clamped him in special restraints designed to dampen his Reality shifting abilities, and waited. They ignored his pleading and begging, intent to watch as he struggled against the demon inside of him. Soon, Mu over powered him, making his way to the fore and silencing his cries. He only stared at each and everyone of the scientists, his eyes filled with a broken glee and a twisted smile that oozed malicious intent. And the thoughts that rang forth were the same as always. 'Kill them, break them, bend them, rip the flesh, crush the bones, drain the veins, smash their heads into the wall.' Over and over, these thoughts filled the mind, each one conjuring up image after image of the gruesome act they defined. And even with them knowing the danger, they did nothing but watch. But Mu was patient, always patient, waiting for his chance. An hour passed, then two, then three. It had only just reached the fourth hour when he escaped. One second he was in his restraints, the next he had a man by the throat with tendrils made from the metal on the floor, choking the life out of him. The guards opened fire, but their bullets seemed to bounce off of a invisible shield and ricochet back at twice the speed, hitting them all in the brain, as well as others. Mu finished off the man he held by crushing his throat before turning around to face the other occupants in the room, a single word on his lips. "Die." What followed next was a horror show of blood, guts, and mayhem. Mu worked his way up from the basement levels to the very top of the building where the CEO was hiding scared with his vice president. And Mu wasn't without a sense of humor, sadly for the both of them, as he dragged them down to the lobby, which had been closed to the public at this time and every elcetronic device in the building short-circuiting due to the distortions of reality, and opened the Vice-president up, using his blood to right a message to all who would witness this scene. Right above Janus Corp Insignia, he wrote, "They made their choice, they opened the door, and now the beast has been unleashed upon the earth. Chaos will reign and they will be to blame. So spite this man for taking the name of a god, for wanting the powers of a god. His avarice will be this worlds downfall." And right in the middle of the insignia, one would find the CEO of Janus Corp, dead with his vice president's face sewed onto the back of his head. Jackson shook from the memories, feeling like he was going to vomit from what he could remember. He knew it wasn't him that had done those things, not really, but it felt like it was him. Every time his persona's take over, it feel like their wants and desires became his wants and desires. It was so hard not to feel guilty for what Mu had done, when he himself felt the absolute bliss that over took him when a life was stolen. Sad as he was to say it, Jackson had yet to experience something that felt as good to him as murder and bloodshed was to Mu. And that scared him, it truly did scare him. And so Jackson kept his heads down, silently crying as he cursed himself, Kuro keeping quiet as he knew exactly what Jackson needed right now, some peace and quiet. Kuro had been the one to wake up afterwards, in n alley not far from the building. He'd gone unnoticeable and left, trying not to gag at the sight of 5 alley cats and 4 rats that had been ripped apart. He'd made his way to this cafe, stolen some clothes and bam, here they were. Not a penny to their name, homeless, and not an idea where to go. Well, things could be worse right?</s>	<\|message\|>Light Light was moving through the streets of LA, casually looking for metas while enjoying the sights. She wasn't very confident that she would find any metas until she saw a giant chunk of rock just floating above the city. "Well... don't see that everyday..." Light said to herself as she made her way there. Popping out of a hole on top of the giant chunk of rock, Light got to a high point and watched the fight between two metas. She didn't know why they were fighting, but they at least had the decency to fight where civilians couldn't get hurt. Unless she was noticed, she'd probably report the winner to the agency or something. Though Cedric will probably want them both.</s>
<\|description\|>Light Alias(s): Light Age: 24 Affiliations: Heroes Factions: Reformists. Description: Light wears no costume, and fights in her civilian cloths if you can call them that. Light is a 5"5 tall female humanoid with cartoonish looking features including an overly large round head with no nose and very large eyes, fin-like ears, skinny biceps with large forearms and hands which have sharp fingers. She has a more exaggerated hourglass shape with large hips, with her legs ending in sharp points where her feet should be. She wears a blue and white sleeveless dress that has an M cut in the front to show her legs. She has pure white skin, short blue hair, and black eyes with orange iris'. Powers: Adaptive Total Regeneration: Light can regenerate from any injury except atomization, even supernatural ones such as having her soul split and the like. Additionally after regenerating from an injury, Light will gain resistance to that type of injury, her body changing texture to show what she is resistant to. This temporary resistance goes away after a couple of hours. Weakness: Light can't adapt to injuries caused by Iron or Silver. Contact with Iron causes a mild burning sensation while contact with Silver causes violent bursts of flame. These injuries can lead to atomization, causing Light to die and respawn at a random site after awhile with a bit of a memory loss depending on what she was killed by. Atomization without iron/silver does almost nothing while Iron does a little and Silver can do quite a bit. Naturally this psuedo immortality has made Light very careless in combat, at least when Silver isn't involved. Energy Siphon: Light passively steals energy from whatever she is touching. She can't control this effect at all, however the more damaged she is, the more energy she leeches from things. Weakness: Light can't siphon energy from objects made of Iron or Silver. Pocket Space: Light can store objects in a small pocket dimension under/behind her dress. Weakness: Light can't store objects made of Iron or Silver. Void Slip: Light can pull a hole out from under her dress, giving her a personal wormhole to any place within her sightlines. Weakness: Light can't place her exit hole on any objects made of Iron or Silver. Super Strength: Light has superhuman strength due to her Faye powers. Weakness: Light's strength is reduced when in contact with Iron and drastically reduced when in contact with Silver, or when hitting objects made of Iron or Silver. Skills: Light is familiar with quite a few things due to having to grow up alone on the streets, but doesn't have mastery over anything worth mentioning. She does learn quite fast however, when she isn't fooling around. Equipment: None, Light stores random things in her Pocket Space though. Ranking: A (Optional) Brief History: Light was an orphan that grew up on the streets of LA, making a living using her powers more for the entertainment of others than anything. One day the government took notice and took her in, Light being a big help with the downfall of Aperture. For the past few years the government has made Light into a pop star to try to foster better relationships with metas and non metas, while still using her unique powers to stop terrorists or the like.</s> <\|message\|>Ian Sebastian Lyone Sebastian turned his head to give Ellen a cheery, if mocking smile, as if she had just told a bad joke, and he was doing it just to be polite. "Well then, if it isn't two of my favorite people in the world. How are you today, Issac, still enjoying your romanticized delusions about what the Underground's all about? And Ellen, if you can tell me with absolute honesty that you didn't feel just the tiniest bit of satisfaction and pleasure when you killed all those people after you hit rock bottom in your acting career, I might consider what you said to be less than hypocritical. Besides, the pleasure I get from torture and murder is like the pleasure an avid gamer gets from beating a hard level, or a professional athlete gets from scoring the winning goal. It's intoxicating, invigorating, and satisfying, but never sexual." Sebastian chuckled a little more, before a pondering expression overtook his features. "However, I myself have never had a genuine sexual urge in my life, so maybe the pleasure of self-satisfaction is the closest I'll ever get to experiencing such a thing." He shrugged his soldiers before turning his attention back to Issac. "So big guy, up for a spar. I promise that I won't kill or cripple you." He looked and sounded sincere enough, but then again, Sebastian always sounded sincere in every promise he's ever made, and has yet to keep a single one. Taking the blood sphere in his hands, he quickly shaped it into a small dagger, which he proceeded to have float around the room in a slow, somewhat menacing fashion. His blood constructs were able to move rather quickly, which means he could launch the projectile at anyone in the room and kill them(except for Nancy unless he got a headshot) before anyone else could react. And the thing is, he was very likely to do just that, for no other reason but he wanted to, but he wouldn't. Ellen was wrong when she thought the kill is what gave Sebastian the most pleasure, that was just the result. No, he liked to torture, to enrage, to mess with people and manipulate them into the palm of his hands. He didn't do that hear very much because Edge gad promised him as many toys as he wanted as long as he stayed. A good deal to him, so he didn't try to be someone else here. he showed his true face, and didn't care how other's felt about it. In fact, the more they hated him, the better he felt. Sebastian was like in that way, a very dangerous child, but a child none the less. Let's see, we have Issac the mutated Romeo-tragedy who lost his love and so, to avenge her, decided to join a group of murders and criminals, thinking that what we do will bridge the gap between Metas and humans, Ellen, a whiny former starlet with a strong-will, and Nancy, the clumsy, zombie making enigma. Basically, we've got an easy target, a moderately difficult one, and then the unknown, hmm, and our leader whose probably just as crazy as i am. I've seen the way he acts when he kills those Meta haters, the difference between us is marginal at best. He's just likes to discriminate, while I'm an equal opportunity psychopathic murderer. Snickering to himself, he called the blood-dagger back to him and turned it into a flue, solidifying hit so he could blow into it. he wasn't even trying to play it either, he was just blowing into it to create an annoying, high-pitch sound just to piss off everyone in the room. When Sebastian isn't on the job and gets bored, this is basically the whole of what he does: Torturing a bunch of people in his room or annyoing the crap out of the rest of the Movement.</s> <\|message\|>Emile King The Zombie --- The Fresh Heralds looks down at their weapons in confusion. They didn't shoot, and they were supposed to shoot, but they weren't functioning. Upon closer inspection, they'd realize their tools had been sabotaged by an unknown assailant that seemed to be some reformist kid talking speeches about things the zombies were practically programmed to disregard. Throwing away their primary weapons, they each drew a pistol, only to have more knives thrown at them. The police officer seemed a lot more agile with a gun, a likely reminiscence of his life before being a Herald and would manage to shoot the knife despite its enhancement, barely deriving it. The other one took it to the should, but almost shrugged it off as he unloaded toward Ian, and consequently, to the panicking people riled up. The masked Heralds took the knives but acted as if they weren't hit at all. Even with damage to the knee, they walked more or less fine. They dropped the bodies they were carrying at the sounds of gunshots, however and simply started jogging toward the panicked masses and in the middle of the roads. It would quickly be revealed that they'd be wearing explosive vests, the kinds prepared specifically for genocides (considering they're likely slow down good infantry). In various corners, they'd quickly detonate themselves no matter the interruption. They had to kill as many as possible like fanatics. The remaining two would do their best to at least handle Ian before the civilian fresh Herald would detonate himself in hopes to take out Ian while the Officer would attempt an escape. The van stocked with a few bodies would of course take off during this entire dramatic scene. --- Nancy always kept a pretty upbeat smile all the time, like a well trained secretary doing her best to handle customer service. However, whenever Sebastian would come in and blather on about his exploit and desires, she'd have the most over-exaggerated frown depicting just how upsetting his monologues could be. Her hand was slowly reaching into one of her drawers, blatantly making it obvious she was reaching out of a weapon as she rattled through the junk in there, taking all his monologue time to actually get what she wanted. Suddenly, she slammed a machete onto her desk, severing her right hand in the process. It already leaked black blood almost everywhere, but she seemed completely unfazed by it. She'd toss the hand on Sebastian's face and revert to her usual smiling stance. "Here you go Sebastian! Yes yes! You definitely know how to spray my blood on them right?!" She he spun on her spinning chair, only noticing now the message sent by Edge through the radio as she was in her little fantasy world of chopping off her own member. She quickly grabbed the mic of said radio and replied. "Y-yes sir! Yes yes I am super duper fine, with all my buddies, thank you! I hope the operation was an absolute success!" She said nervously, he feet sporadically stomping the ground as she replied to the leader. She jumped out of her chair, her arm pissing blood all over the office floor and furniture. She only acknowledged her two buddies from the underground, buddies she sure wished she could blow the guts out off to turn into Heralds of course. Randomly, she froze into position, for absolutely no reason. She was in deep thought, but her posture made her seem like she was frozen in place. She'd let all the events fly by her head, as if she pushed everyone away from her mind before snagging a bag of what seemed to be cheetos on an unopened box near her desk. "Hey! To celebrate, anyone wants to have some good ol' Cheetos?! They're greeeat! I made them myself you know?" She'd open the plastic to let the aroma of the treats invade the near vicinity. Approaching Ellen of all people, she'd wave the sack of cheetos right in front of her face like some kind of leech trying to devour the famous woman's face. Cheetos were just flinging out of the bag and rubbing against her face. It was almost as if she was treating Ellen like some kind of imagined animal she fed, but all the food would drop down. The cheetos were of course, poisoned with a toxin capable of killing pretty much anyone who simply ate one of those. "Mmmmm some good cheetos aye Ellen? Do you like cheetos? Mmmm I love cheetos! C'mon, delicious cheetos..." Though no matter the response, she'd rinse and repeat, next stop was Sebastian and she'd give the same scene she did with Ellen to the psychopath. Hopefully, he'd eat it and fall into cardiac arrest, finally getting rid of his constant monologues. And finally, the giant ugly man she just wished should mutilate and turn into something super awesome like a giant Herold. Her dialogue would change however with Isaac as she had other ideas roaming his mind concerning him. "Isaac! These Cheetos are the best, mmmm! If you eat one I'll fix you up and make you look the way you've always wanted, yes yes!" She said with so much glee, but it'd be almost a known fact that giving one's life in the hands of Nancy would be a death sentence, or at least a forfeit of any freedom they had. Plus her attempts in killing pretty much anyone would be under more blatant forms more often the naught. Her favorite maneuver being to try and shoot someone with a shotgun, missing, and flying backwards with the recoil. Luckily for everyone, she'd be way too much of an incompetent klutz to actually kill anyone. Though, there shouldn't be any confusion, she'll turn anyone into a Herald if given the correct circumstance.</s>	<\|message\|>Light After both having no answer from the masked man, the guy running away and Light giving chance, Light saw a large group of the same people running towards the streets. She noticed another reformist there, Ian, who Light hadn't seen in some time having spent a good amount of time overseas. He was also dealing with these masked thugs, and from the looks of the knives on the ground, had tried to attack them but failed as he was attacked by two of them with a third running at him, breaking away from the group that Light was chasing. "Well, if they're going to be openly hostile..." Light said, grabbing a black glob from under her dress. When she let go of the glob, it turned into a shadowy portal which Light entered, popping out between Ian and the charger, punching said charger causing it to explode in her face, turning her black as if she was covered in ash and causing one of her arms to go flying in Ian's direction. "Really? REALLY?" Light said, exhaling a large cloud of smoke as she was momentarily stunned from the explosion, shaking it off after a few moments. Noticing her missing arm was by Ian's feet, she called to him. "Hey Ian, mind giving me my arm? It kinda hurts when your missing a limb." When she was all fixed up, she'd tell Ian that she'd go after the masked Heralds going at the civillians, groaning at having to set off so many explosives in her face.</s>
<\|description\|>Light Alias(s): Light Age: 24 Affiliations: Heroes Factions: Reformists. Description: Light wears no costume, and fights in her civilian cloths if you can call them that. Light is a 5"5 tall female humanoid with cartoonish looking features including an overly large round head with no nose and very large eyes, fin-like ears, skinny biceps with large forearms and hands which have sharp fingers. She has a more exaggerated hourglass shape with large hips, with her legs ending in sharp points where her feet should be. She wears a blue and white sleeveless dress that has an M cut in the front to show her legs. She has pure white skin, short blue hair, and black eyes with orange iris'. Powers: Adaptive Total Regeneration: Light can regenerate from any injury except atomization, even supernatural ones such as having her soul split and the like. Additionally after regenerating from an injury, Light will gain resistance to that type of injury, her body changing texture to show what she is resistant to. This temporary resistance goes away after a couple of hours. Weakness: Light can't adapt to injuries caused by Iron or Silver. Contact with Iron causes a mild burning sensation while contact with Silver causes violent bursts of flame. These injuries can lead to atomization, causing Light to die and respawn at a random site after awhile with a bit of a memory loss depending on what she was killed by. Atomization without iron/silver does almost nothing while Iron does a little and Silver can do quite a bit. Naturally this psuedo immortality has made Light very careless in combat, at least when Silver isn't involved. Energy Siphon: Light passively steals energy from whatever she is touching. She can't control this effect at all, however the more damaged she is, the more energy she leeches from things. Weakness: Light can't siphon energy from objects made of Iron or Silver. Pocket Space: Light can store objects in a small pocket dimension under/behind her dress. Weakness: Light can't store objects made of Iron or Silver. Void Slip: Light can pull a hole out from under her dress, giving her a personal wormhole to any place within her sightlines. Weakness: Light can't place her exit hole on any objects made of Iron or Silver. Super Strength: Light has superhuman strength due to her Faye powers. Weakness: Light's strength is reduced when in contact with Iron and drastically reduced when in contact with Silver, or when hitting objects made of Iron or Silver. Skills: Light is familiar with quite a few things due to having to grow up alone on the streets, but doesn't have mastery over anything worth mentioning. She does learn quite fast however, when she isn't fooling around. Equipment: None, Light stores random things in her Pocket Space though. Ranking: A (Optional) Brief History: Light was an orphan that grew up on the streets of LA, making a living using her powers more for the entertainment of others than anything. One day the government took notice and took her in, Light being a big help with the downfall of Aperture. For the past few years the government has made Light into a pop star to try to foster better relationships with metas and non metas, while still using her unique powers to stop terrorists or the like.</s> <\|message\|>Clementine Mercer. Clementine Mercer --- "You remember the plan right?" The man beside her growled. His voice was like a gravel path on her ears. Harsh and imposing. Clementine nodded complacently and smiled as much as she dared without drawing more of his ire. Being the new gal in the group wasn't exactly easy. Especially when that group was an organized cadre of burglars and thieves. In the back of the delivery truck, they waited as they drove to their destination. Clementine's breath was caught in her throat every time they slowed down. Every moment was spent looking at the door and waiting for it to fly open and reveal the police just waiting for her. Waiting to take her away to jail. She shook every now and then, and her tongue felt heavy. Her skin was crawling with goosebumps and her heart beat hard. Her chest felt like it was going to collapse with how hard her heart was beating. The impatient snapping of the man beside her brought her back into the moment and away from her fears. "Okay, well if you remember, then tell me your part, Snow." Snow. The callsign she had picked for her. Because she was very pale. And because she was 'fragile'. She thought nothing of it at first, but now she could feel the bite that the name had intended to have. She stammered for a moment, brushing some of her ghostly-white hair out of her face and cuffing it behind her ear. "I... uh, I am running bags. That is all. I am a bagman. I don't talk. I don't act. I follow, I stay low and I carry the bags." The man looked at her as she read all this off, like a practiced speech. He was nodded slowly. She was right. Keep calm, keep quiet, carry bags. That was all she had to do. They had drilled that into her enough by now that she could remember. That and she had worked hard to get into this crew so quickly, on such short notice, that she would lose her mind if she forgot. "Good. You've remembered well. It'll be over before you know it and then we'll all be sitting pretty back by ourselves. Just a little bit richer." He smiled at that and looked to the others. They were smiling too. She didn't recognize them, they had already pulled on their masks, but there were six of them including herself and the man beside her. Small team for a small part of a bigger scheme. "We're not far out now," The man beside her, Woody, with the cowboy hat and ski-mask on, said with that same impatient tone, "We'll be there in just a bit longer, so make your last preparations." He stood for a moment to check his outfit and look over the others, holding an object out to Clementine without even looking at her. It was a handgun. What kind, she wasn't sure. It was boxy and black. That was all she knew. She had seen something like it in gangster and crime movies. She knew how to use a gun. Don't touch the trigger unless you want to shoot, point the loud end at the bad people. Simple enough. She took it slow and put it in the shoulder holster she was provided with, along with the two magazines that were already there strapped to her chest. Clementine sat in silence for most of the trip there, fiddling with her mask out of anxiousness. Her heart was in her throat and going strong when Woody came back and clasped a hand on her shoulder. "Stay low and stay close, Snow. We've just got to get in and get out. No troubles if we stick to the plan." She nodded once more and pulled her plain black ski-mask over her head. It was going to happen and it was going to happen soon. She was ready. Disneyland, here she comes.</s> <\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya Aya had floated through the past two days in a fog. She went to classes, did her work, clocked in at the bookstore, but not matter what she did or where she went, all she could see were her stars, dancing just past her eyes. She'd managed to not use her power for over a year before that incident with the knight. She'd been content to tiptoe around this city like a minefield, keeping her secret. But now someone knew. But he'd seemed like a good sort… the kind who would respect her secret. Besides, who was to say they'd ever meet again? As noticeable as he was in that armor, he wouldn't be difficult to avoid if she needed to. Empty reassurances circled her mind for two days straight, but she still jumped at every sound, still saw blood-splattered churches with lifeless bodies resting on the pews. She hadn't used her power once since the incident, but Aya still saw her stars. She was walking from the campus to the metro station so she could cross the city to her work. The street was oddly quiet today, the crowd thinner than usual, and Aya glanced around, nervous. Something had to be going on. But then she heard an odd, metallic-tinged voice echoing through the city. Someone was speaking into microphone, too far away for Aya to properly make out the words. At least, until she heard one word in particular: Metas. Despite her better judgement, Aya found herself moving towards the voice, and the closer she got the thicker the crowds became. She'd forgotten that Mayor Martinez was holding some sort of press conference on Metas after the massacre. Light, some big name Reformist was back in town, and people needed to feel secure. She saw what looked like a glowing cloud-bird before she saw the mayor's building, and the blatant display of power almost made her hesitate. It seemed to be putting the people around her on edge too, but Aya pushed on, beaconed by a morbid sort of curiosity. A giant projector screen was propped up before the steps of the office, showing the mayor inside, flanked by Light and who Aya assumed to be other Reformists. "And I have full faith," he went on, "That General Smoak and the Reformists, along with the Los Angeles Police Department, are doing everything possible to ensure the safety of this city and its people." A lukewarm applause sounded throughout the crowd, as reporters inside pushed forward to ask their questions. Aya just sunk further away, telling herself she needed to hurry up and get to work, but unable to move her feet.</s> <\|message\|>Aiko Fujiwara Aiko yelled at Eli as she was pulled away. The kids were okay but she wanted to be with Eli. "Hey Eli-san!. Eli!" She yelled over the roar of the crowsds having fun. She was suspecting something as the kids took her around the corner. But what would happen this is Disneyland, with first class security and attentive security people. What would happen? It was Aiko was thinking that she was punched in the face. At first she could not beleive it. Then another punch, and another. Aiko began to fight back she grabbed a girl near her and broke her left arm. A boy neaby had his knee kicked and turned the other direction with a sickening snap. Aiko bit one girl's ear, clawed at another boy, knocked out one girl. But these kids kept punhing her she fought as hard as she could but even the kids with broken limbs kept punching her there was one final punch. Aiko fell back and the world fell black. She had been able to try and take the memories of the kids. One would not even know who she was.</s>	<\|message\|>Light Lucas, one of the new metas to the Reformists, sorta made Light feel a bit uneasy with his constant flirting. She had only known him for the past couple days, but apparently his amorous knew no bounds if it related to anyone of the opposite gender. It was flattering in a way, due to Light looking cartoonish yet threatening due to her proportions and thus not really hit upon by many people. She would've found it charming, if Lucas didn't flirt with everyone constantly, plus his age didn't help much either. This lead to a pretty awkward limo ride with Lucas sitting next to Light, trying to hit on her on occasion, and her trying to push his attention elsewhere. When they got to the press conference near city hall, Light was happy to get out of the limo and made her way into the building much faster than was necessary, noticing the cloud above them and making a note to keep an eye on it. When she got inside the building, a greeter got her attention and lead her to the mayor, who shook her rather large hand vigorously with a smile on his face. "Glad you could make it Light. These past few days haven't been very good for public morale, so I hope the fact that having you back in the city should help matters." He said, guiding her to a seat.</s>
<\|description\|>Elijah Craigh Alias(s): None given to him yet. Age: 27 Affiliations: Mercs Description: Elijah is a simple man, preferring jeans and boots over suits although he does own one. He does however tend to favor somewhat nice button up shirts with the sleeves rolled just below the elbows. His style of dress matches well with ruggedly handsome face. Adorned with dark hair and even darker eyes. He owns a blue and white motorcycle jacket that he can be seen wearing more often than not. In costume he is still of the simple minded. A Red carbon fiber, full faced helmet with a slim profile and black eyes covers his head. A black long sleeve combat shirt with red and yellow flaming dragon across the chest. Integrated with split armor plates across his torso, this provides just as much mobility as it does protection. His bottom half his covered in jeans and black combat boots. His hands are clothed in combat gloves as well. Simple yet effective. His 5'11 frame is covered by a lean 200 pounds worth of muscle and organs. While heavy you would never expect it. Even upon close close inspection one would think he'd he was closer to 180 pounds. A lean athletic frame that is built more on running and endurance than it is through brute power. Powers: Erupting/Burning body: His primary ability to envelop his body in fiery plasma without harm to himself, in which form he is able to fly by providing thrust behind himself with his own flame, and to generate powerful streams and/or balls of flame. He can also manipulate his flame in such a way as to shape it into rings and other forms. Even when not engulfed in flame himself, Elijah has the ability to control any fire within his immediate range of vision, causing it to increase or decrease in intensity or to move in a pattern directed by his thoughts. Additionally, he is able to absorb fire/plasma into his body with no detrimental effects. He has shown the ability to detect heat signatures (infra-red vision) The plasma field immediately surrounding his body is sufficiently hot enough to vaporize projectiles that approach him, including but not limited to bullets. He does not generally extend this flame-aura beyond a few inches from his skin, so as not to ignite nearby objects. Elijah refers to his maximum flame output as his "nova flame," which he can release omnidirectional. Flame of any temperature lower than this cannot burn or harm him. This "nova" effect can occur spontaneously when he absorbs an excessive amount of heat, although he can momentarily suppress the release when necessary, with considerable effort. Storm can also direct momentary beams of "nova heat" as a weapon. Elijah has demonstrated enough control that he can hold a person while in his flame form without his passenger feeling discomforting heat. His knowledge extends to general information about fire as well. In one instance when poisoned, Elijah superheated his blood to burn the toxin out. Elijah ability to ignite himself is limited by the quantity of oxygen in his environment, and his personal flame has been extinguished by sufficient quantities of water, flame retardant foam, and vacuum environments.He can reignite instantly once oxygen is returned, with no ill effects. He can however only ignite certain parts of his body. A hand, foot, or any other limb as the situation needs. There are however many limitations that come with his powers. Elijah does have a time limit on the use of his powers. For example in his full body he has a maximum time limit of 3 to 5 minutes. This time limit however grows exponentially when only using a single limb such as hand or a foot, meaning around 30 minutes. This time is lessened when he goes full Nova. Both is Erupting form and his full Nova form cause some level of stress on his body. If he pushes too hard he could pass out. Another problem he has, would be a lack of oxygen. His eruption form could be used indoors or underground but not without risk. His Nova forms burn oxygen up so quickly, that hes been left lying on the floor, gagging. Even outside he has to be cautious, because he can harm his allies with oxygen deprivation just as much as your enemies. Just being close to Elijah can be very draining. Skills: Through years of hard work, a little stupidity and some help from military. Elijah has cultivate a massive skill set in hand to hand combat, and small arms combat. His close to midrange marksmanship skills are top notch, though he leaves something to be desired in long range shooting. So long as the vehicle doesn't have much in the way of computers Elijah can serve as an above average mechanic. Much more skilled in motorcycles than cars. This holds true in his ability to ride a motorcycle as opposed to driving a car. Equipment: Seeing as his powers are based strictly on the amount oxygen. Elijah has a couple of secondary weapons. An FNP .45 Tactical, three spare clips and two pocket knives. One a straight edge lock blade the other is a more tactical weapon, a fixed blade with a tanto tip and a serrated blade. Ranking: Rank A that can rise to an S</s> <\|message\|>Zachery Talbot Zachery stared over at the mock battle "I can think of a few reasons." He said, watching the insanity going on down the beach with a mixture of disbelief and quiet wonder. Was that I pirate ship? "This could be someones idea of a good time, but if that were the case you'd think we'd remember being brought into it. Someone might be trying to protect us from something. This might be meant to keep us complacent while something happens to us in the 'real world.' Like..." He felt another one of those headaches come on as a brief flash of red and pain fluttered through his head. "Urgh, like, perhaps we were in an accident and are in recovery somewhere. I've heard of a hospital in New York that uses a meta to create shared dream states between comatose patients and their doctors. Or we could be on the move, being transported from one place to another. Worst case scenario, someone might being doing something to our bodies. Oh, but there are so many. There are so many people here, how would you even get all these people? We don't even know if all of them were real." He knew at least one other person here was from real life, Max. Jake was able to add the huts to the beach, so that meant he was real as well. "I don't think we should go around telling everyone that they might be stuck in the Matrix, you know? It could catch the attention of whoever put us here, but I'm going to at least try and warn my friend. You have anyone you want to tell? We could take that." He says, pointing to the buggy. "The keys are in the ignition, and it's super fast."</s> <\|message\|>Lizzie Fair "Hey!" shouted Eden, transformed back into a human, at Cer, "I just rescued that guy!" And with that, he began running towards the jungle, surprisingly fast for someone who was using their body - or a computer stimulation of a body - for the first time. Once he reached Cer's position, he would begin panting, then place his hand on a nearby tree, absorbing the plant matter into himself; turning it into slurry that was sucked up into his body. Then, he went on the empty space left by the tree...and transformed into one himself, a majestic apple tree out of place in the (partly smoking) tropical jungle, its branches weighed down with dozens of fruit. The boy then said telpathically: <Pick one and feed it to the man over there; that ought to heal his body.> Cer stared at the boy her eyes emotionless, she didn't care much for Kuro's well being at this point. She watched as the boy turned into the tree, again without emotion, to be fair she was very fed up. For a while she ignored it but something gave her the feeling that if she didn't do something that kid would bother her again. "I don't need your dumb fruit powers, I could heal him if I wanted to but I don't. He doesn't deserve it and he wouldn't die anyway, they won't let him because they'd lose the other two as well." She was more than a bit snappy but her resolve weakened and she decided to heal him, she did it herself though, just out of spite. If a tree can convey sadness and dismay, Eden did that by having his branches fall lower than usual, before turning away from Cer. <I was just trying to help>, he said sullenly. "If you are looking for sympathy you're not going to get much from me." She growled before softening a little and healing Kuro with a tap to the forehead, before returning to the issue she had been mulling over since she met this kid. He was responding independantly from the system so he wasn't computer generated but she could tell somthing was off, he wasn't comepletely real, it put her even more on edge. "Whenever you feel like not being a tree we can talk about who you really are." Eden, in response, transformed back into a human, making sure to include his swim trunks in the transformation. He then said: "My name is Eden, Eden McFadden. I am the son of Jaden McFadden and..." he shuddered, a sense of...hatred and fear overcoming him, "...Isabella Lancaster, with a Surrogate Mother, Cindy Wade." His mind was struck by needles of pain, as if there was a prickly wall of sharp bristles blocking him from...something." He then stared at her eyes. "No...No...I shouldn't be out of the womb yet; why am I here?..." Cer looked at him curiously before chuckling darkly, "That's a damn good question, I can't answer it though. Keep asking yourself those questions and you'll find a world of trouble." She stood and scanned the sky lines for the destruction at the beach, worried it would come find them. "I don't want trouble..." spoke Eden, "but at the same time..." he inhaled and exhaled deeply, still in indecision. "I'm curious. But if you don't want me bothering you, then I won't. I'll go back to my father." Then, a thought came to him. "Father...he has this strange urge to eat people, doesn't he? Can you heal him of that, too?" Cer was about to tell him to do whatever he wanted because she didn't care and apologize for her behavior in the most indirect and confusing way possible because any other way would really be admitting that she was wrong. However she was distracted by the boy's request, "I could try but the brain is a tricky thing, one synapse off and the repurcussions could be devastating." She shrugged, "I'd need his explicit permission and even then that kind of work makes me uncomfortable." "Understood," spoke Eden, carrying Kuro over his shoulder with surprising strength. "Why don't we go over there and get his permission, then?"</s> <\|message\|>Jake Anyone he wanted to tell? It didn't take Jake very long to run through the list of people he might want to inform. The list of people he actually gave a crap about in this world or any other was a short one indeed. First and foremost were his family. Or at least the family he had back when he was a man. But he had a feeling they wouldn't be here. He hoped they weren't. He didn't want them wrapped up in the weirdness that was his life. Then there were a few other people who had been nice to Jake since his transformation. He thought about the woman who took him in for a brief period of time after his transformation. She had a kind heart. She gave a sad dog a place to sleep and a good meal, even though she didn't know him. Her kids were nice too, even if the teenager was a bit obnoxious. But again, he hoped they weren't here. They hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms. Jake had let his temper get the better of him when the woman's boyfriend came around. He was a jerk and didn't deserve her or her family. Jake had let him know this. Of course he came out looking like a savage animal and scared everyone he was trying to protect. He had run away after that, even though the youngest boy had begged him not to go. Just the memory of that boys face broke Jake's heart every time he thought of it. But there was someone else Jake thought about. Someone who Jake actually hoped was here, just so he could see a friendly face. "There's a girl..." Jake told Zachary "Her name's...Aya...She's always been nice to me." He let out a sigh and added "If anyone I know found themselves wrapped up in this mess it'd be her...Girl has a way of attracting trouble."</s>	<\|message\|>Elijah Craigh Eli turned to Jim while running as they heard Legion speak in one voice. "I find that so creepy when they do that." Eli turned his back and shouted "You'll never catch me Copper, nah!" Eli said in a mock Chicago gangster like voice. "Not the time for jokes E.C. fix this now!" Jim said with a hint of frustration. "I got this!" Eli sent an explosion to the ground, causing an eruption of sand to fly high. Covered by the sand flying, Eli slapped Jim on the chest to get his attention, and pointed into the jungle. Together they ran as hard as they could into the jungle after they waited till they were fully covered by the jungle to make a move and go into hiding. Step after step they were slowed till Eli made his move, he spotted a tree perfect for climbing however the first branch was too high for a single person to reach. Eli sprinted forward and then crouched down two one knee, Jim Harper without a moments thought used the lower Eli to elevate himself to rather high slung branch. With Jim hanging from the branch, Eli used Jim's body to climb up into the tree. They helped each other climb the tree and gain as much ground vertically. They when got what they thought was a safe distance both of them stopped, as they sat in the tree both of them couldn't help but smile, they both wanted to laugh. Both of them wanted laugh in such a bad way, the sheer insanity of the situation was hitting both of them. This had to be a joke. A dead man was sitting in a tree with a guy who controlled fire, being chanced by a guy who can make hundreds of copies of himself. The sight was just short of a 'two jews walk into a bar.'</s>
<\|description\|>Olivia Octavia Delacroix Alias(s): Stellar, Starshine Age: 21 Affiliations: Heroes Factions: Reformists / International Heroes Standing at about five foot, eight inches, you can immediately tell by looking at Olivia that she leads a healthy lifestyle. She looks healthy, well-defined and is rather good-looking. Of course, that wouldn't be possible if she wasn't a more combat orientated Meta and if her time as an International Hero didn't teach her that she has to be fit and ready for any challenge. Her hair is a light shade of brown and her eyes are an intense green. She's one of those people who could smile and light up a room - a sure sign that her career so far hasn't been fraught with scarring situations. Overall, she looks like a hero but is pretty enough to gain a rather large male fan-base. Clothing: Powers: Possibly one of the reasons why our species have survived up until this point is our innate ability to spot patterns. So good is this ability that we even spot patterns where there aren't any real patterns. Ever since we even developed intelligent-thinking, humanity has been looking up to the stars and finding patterns to suit a certain deity or maybe even a hero that was immortalised in the stars. They have been our way to guide ourselves but also our way to cement our culture into the surrounding universe. Olivia's powers are the physical manifestation of these immortalised patterns in the stars. Strangely, she can take a pattern of stars that humanity has linked with a certain hero or being and then adopt the powers of that hero or being. This ability is possibly one of the strangest known to man, considering that star constellations aren't ingrained in our genes. In fact, they're not even part of the world around us like things such as fire or illusions. Star constellations are a man-made construct but somehow, Olivia has been able to utilise them. Up to now, she has only mastered three constellations. These constellations or forms are summoned by drawing the pattern in the air with a special tool that she had developed specifically for the role. Pyxis itself was the first constellation that Olivia mastered, primarily because of its rather simple design and nature. Pyxis is Latin for mariner's compass but this strangely does not give her the great power to navigate the oceans with utmost efficiency. In fact, it isn't really a combat constellation at all. This constellation gives Olivia the ability to see the logical route through a problem even when she could be blinded by anger or need. It allows her to make informed decisions on any real matter. Although this might be useful for getting out of sticky situations, the International Heroes put it to use in peace talks in the Middle East and surprisingly, it worked exceptionally well. Olivia could broker a deal between two sides that suited both sides just by knowing some background on the situation and being able to safely discuss terms of peace with warring sides. It was Pyxis that garnered her the adoration of peace-loving people around the world. She was even momentarily a candidate for the Nobel Peace Prize but it went to another. Nevertheless, she had gained the attention of the world and the Heroes capitalised on that to bolster their image. She rose high in the group, quickly becoming a spokeswoman for them and a part-time figurehead of the peace movement before other heroes began to sign up. Orion was the second constellation she mastered and the very first combat constellation. She would have never learned it if she hadn't of realised that she desperately needed it. When she was travelling around the Middle East, bringing together fractured sides and propagating peace, her helicopter was brought down out of the sky by a MANPAD. Because she was the only meta present and her healing powers were above normal, she somehow survived the crash while the rest of her party died. If that ordeal wasn't enough, she was captured by those who shot her helicopter down and taken to a nearby cave-system. It appeared that she was going to die - they had warned of an execution but surprisingly, they didn't want any form of pay-out. They were going to kill her and nothing could reverse that. It was at the scene of her execution that her powers, seeking self-preservation, flared and activated the Orion Constellation. Although she couldn't use the bow that formed in front of her, the stellar-energy hunting dogs tore the throats out of her captors and allowed her to escape. After that, she chose to learn Orion just for protection but it allowed her to adapt to a combat-orientated Meta. Lepus was the third and final constellation she has learned to date. Her choice of this constellation was not only because it was rather easy to learn but it's also a more mobility-based power, allowing her to run at exceptional speeds and do small blinks, which for a normal person processing things at a normal pace, would look like she's jumping to a spot at a pace that causes her form to blur. With this power, she gains a great understanding of her surroundings, allowing her to escape harm by utilising any escape route. Basically, she becomes a parkour-master when she activates this constellation. Weaknesses: With great powers come a great amount of weaknesses. First and foremost is her need to have a direct connection to the stars. If she goes deep underground then her powers become non-existent and will only return when she returns to a more suitable depth. This applies to deep-sea diving as well. Another factor that can have a massive effect on her is the current light-levels. In low light-levels, her powers will be rather weak and she won't be as strong as usual. In high light-levels, such as a full moon, her powers become stronger. Her Achilles Heel is when she's changing forms. Most of her enemies freeze when they see her summoning the power of the stars but if they choose that moment to attack, they'd find that she was in a highly-weakened state with nothing to defend herself with. This has two different forms though - if she's moving from her normal state to a star-form then she'll simply be a little more weakened but if she's moving from one star-state to another then the pain she experiences becomes extremely amplified. A weak punch could have the potential to make her double over in pain while a directed Meta ability could be the most painful thing she's ever experienced. It varies. Skills: -Negotiations -Hand-to-hand combat -Parkour -Piloting -Persuasive skills Equipment: -Handy mobile phone -A small, pen-like object that emits a trail of light that allows her to draw her constellations with the utmost accuracy. Ranking: A (Optional) Brief History: (I've revealed some, I'll reveal more later)</s> <\|message\|>Nathan James Hunter Nate let out a long breath from his nose as Eli brought up his military service. "Well fancy that, Opie. You're not as dumb as you look" he said. He failed to elaborate on the subject though. Truth be told, it was a sore subject for Nate. He had pictured himself spending a lot more years in the military. He had planned on a career full of medals and promotions. General Hunter. That was the plan. But that all gone down the drain and here he was...A self defence coach. This was not where he had seen his life going. He tossed his apple up into the air, catching it over and over as he changed the subject "So what exactly is your plan here, Opie? Are you just going to eat all of this poor gals food? Drink all her wine? Maybe leave the toilet seat up?"</s> <\|message\|>Vince Ceilio Vince could have sworn there was a reason he should have woken up earlier today but he didn't realize until he checked the news and that boy wonder, Cedric, appeared all over the city spewing nonsense to his ears. He was sorry he hadn't been there to fight against the Heroes but it likely wouldn't have gone well for him. There were some people that a head to head face off would mean certain death for him. Oddly enough that fight wasn't the most exciting thing going on in Vince's world. Cer was in town and she hadn't found the camera he stationed in the pent house to monitor it, she was getting rusty. The idea of confronting her was laughable so he simply ignored it, she wasn't really a threat right now but he wanted them to talk to her before they had to fight each other or something. There was also the text from Isabella asking him to meet Camille which didn't sound super fun but he wasn't so lawless that he would ignore a direct order. He found himself wondering who the old enemy could be. Hopefully just one of the Movement's and not his own. Vince lived in a repurposed warehouse, it was nice because he didn't have to reign in his powers to keep people from following him like lost puppies or something. Plus it was very spacious, he had room for whatever he wanted and more. He had a spacious garage, a library that any book lover would die for, and a game room that came in handy whenever he got tired of reading. However, he was far away from most things and the outskirts Isabella was talking about were especially far. Too bad he couldn't fly. -A good twenty minuets later- He pulled up by Camille, annoyed with traffic he forced a much calmer manner on himself. He got out of the Car, offering a hand to Camille before shaking his head and muttering sorry, she could see that as him trying to use his powers which was rude of him. "I hope you don't take that as a sign of bad intent. I'm not entirely sure what we're doing but I can't wait for you to fill me in, assuming you know what this is about." He smiled using some natural charm, he honestly felt bad for her, rumor had it that she couldn't age past 16 so he refrained from using any kind of power. Despite his pity, he still found her childishness annoying, hopefully she'd try to be a bit more grown up this time around.</s> <\|message\|>Elijah Craigh Eli filled his glass and downed before refilling it. "Too much of anything is bad but too much whiskey isn't enough... Mark Twain." Eli said as he got up and walked into the kitchen. "I plan on eating her food, and trying to have a nice evening. Beyond that who am I to stand in the way of fate." Eli stared to rifle through what food was in the kitchen. He found a meal fit for a king, more than one if he was truth. The fact that he was again doing something he was against wasn't lost on him. It just made this all the more funny. With that he pulled out a stolen smart phone he got when no one was looking. One belonging to the very person who's apartment he and his new found buddy were inhabitants of. He played some music some classical music, starting with something classic. It was from there every step and motion he made had more than little funk to it. Who was he to denie the beat of the music. Fire was a wonderful thing. It's control on the other was downright blissful. It made cooking and dethawing food take only seconds. Four steaks each at different at different cooking temps ranging from Pittsburghed to well done. Grilled corn on the cob and baked potatos. An American meal fit for kings. He drank his whiskey and plated everything. Eli thought it looked half way decent. Something he could have ordered from a nice restaurant back home. As he drank the last bit in his glass and places all the food he cooked in the oven. Turning the oven on low, Eli grabbed an apple and was content to wait for whatever hell was coming his way. The apartment smelled wonderful. Meat and whiskey in air. He was enjoying with every second of it.</s>	<\|message\|>Olivia Octavia Delacroix Fortunately (or unfortunately for a certain two), Olivia had came down from her high and they had been snooping around in her place for far too long! Whenever she smelt the odd scent of burning, Olivia could just tell that she was more than likely going to be pissed off. She could make exceptions for Isabella Lancaster and to some extents, Ruby Greenfoot, but Elijah Craigh had no dark backstory to ammend his actions. No brutal murders nor tragic loss. Elijah Craigh was the worst of humanity and Olivia found herself having a very strong dislike of the man, even if he did save her. Why Cedric insisted on keeping scum like him around was a mystery to her but if she had her way, Elijah Craigh would be buried in the darkest cell she could find or at least somewhere where he wasn't annoying her. She was a very forgiving individual. Of course, his reputation with her skyrocketed as she was informed that they had to snip a part of her hair off due to burn damage. You can try to kill a girl. Hell, you can very nearly succeed in killing her but the moment you touch her hair, shit is going down. "Olivia, do go lightly on them, I do believe that they're innocent in terms of maturity levels." Olivia, however, was very firm on the task ahead of her. "Not now, Albert." She was suprisingly silent, showing just how angry she was - it was very likely that there would be a lot of injuries after she had her way. Moving past the old man, she ignored the fact that she was still clothed in her hospital gown and looking like she had just walked through Hell. Once she had equipped herself with a nearby wall-mounted fire-extinguisher, Olivia padded bare-footed into the elevator packed full of suit-donning who quickly parted for the unfeeling young woman who looked better suited as an assassin, nevermind a peace-maker. Getting into her apartment was fairly easy, considering she owned it but unfortunately for Nate, she entered just as he began speaking about the treasures he revealed upon entering her bedroom and snooping about. So now, the Reformists hired both perverts and murders. Great. Sighing softly, she stayed within the shadows of the hall where she was invisible to them and quickly activated Orion. The familiar rush of feeling her body strengthen and contract still proved to be quite exhilarating for Olivia, even if she was about to go and potentially murder two powerful Metas. She'd think about the potential part later, though. Humming softly, she kept the bow on her back and softly whistled for the two dogs formed at her sides. Everything happened in a rush as she moved into the kitchen, nonchantly equipping a kitchen knife which suddenly turned her from nice Olivia to not so nice Olivia. It was clear that Elijah was not the target with the knife as she turned towards Nate. With reactions that most would die for and an accuracy to match it, she flipped the knife up in the air, catching it on its point before propelling it towards Nate, or more specifically, Nate's nether region. Nate must have prayed particularly hard that day as the blade imbedded itself in the couch, only a lucky inch shy of his crotch. Giving him a rather impressed look, she whistled and nodded towards him, having her two imposing hounds circle Nate to make sure he didn't rush to Elijah's aid. Turning on the possibly stunned pyromancer and without uttering a single word, she raised the nossle of the fire-extinguisher and gripped the handle tightly, causing a bright blast of carbon dioxide to suddenly burst from the hose and force Elijah back a little. Elijah needed to hammer it into his thick, redneck skull that a fire needs oxygen to burn and carbon dioxide limits said oxygen. "Give me three reasons to stop and I'll possibly reconsider throwing you out of my window with your pervert friend over there, enfoiré."</s>
<\|description\|>Olivia Octavia Delacroix Alias(s): Stellar, Starshine Age: 21 Affiliations: Heroes Factions: Reformists / International Heroes Standing at about five foot, eight inches, you can immediately tell by looking at Olivia that she leads a healthy lifestyle. She looks healthy, well-defined and is rather good-looking. Of course, that wouldn't be possible if she wasn't a more combat orientated Meta and if her time as an International Hero didn't teach her that she has to be fit and ready for any challenge. Her hair is a light shade of brown and her eyes are an intense green. She's one of those people who could smile and light up a room - a sure sign that her career so far hasn't been fraught with scarring situations. Overall, she looks like a hero but is pretty enough to gain a rather large male fan-base. Clothing: Powers: Possibly one of the reasons why our species have survived up until this point is our innate ability to spot patterns. So good is this ability that we even spot patterns where there aren't any real patterns. Ever since we even developed intelligent-thinking, humanity has been looking up to the stars and finding patterns to suit a certain deity or maybe even a hero that was immortalised in the stars. They have been our way to guide ourselves but also our way to cement our culture into the surrounding universe. Olivia's powers are the physical manifestation of these immortalised patterns in the stars. Strangely, she can take a pattern of stars that humanity has linked with a certain hero or being and then adopt the powers of that hero or being. This ability is possibly one of the strangest known to man, considering that star constellations aren't ingrained in our genes. In fact, they're not even part of the world around us like things such as fire or illusions. Star constellations are a man-made construct but somehow, Olivia has been able to utilise them. Up to now, she has only mastered three constellations. These constellations or forms are summoned by drawing the pattern in the air with a special tool that she had developed specifically for the role. Pyxis itself was the first constellation that Olivia mastered, primarily because of its rather simple design and nature. Pyxis is Latin for mariner's compass but this strangely does not give her the great power to navigate the oceans with utmost efficiency. In fact, it isn't really a combat constellation at all. This constellation gives Olivia the ability to see the logical route through a problem even when she could be blinded by anger or need. It allows her to make informed decisions on any real matter. Although this might be useful for getting out of sticky situations, the International Heroes put it to use in peace talks in the Middle East and surprisingly, it worked exceptionally well. Olivia could broker a deal between two sides that suited both sides just by knowing some background on the situation and being able to safely discuss terms of peace with warring sides. It was Pyxis that garnered her the adoration of peace-loving people around the world. She was even momentarily a candidate for the Nobel Peace Prize but it went to another. Nevertheless, she had gained the attention of the world and the Heroes capitalised on that to bolster their image. She rose high in the group, quickly becoming a spokeswoman for them and a part-time figurehead of the peace movement before other heroes began to sign up. Orion was the second constellation she mastered and the very first combat constellation. She would have never learned it if she hadn't of realised that she desperately needed it. When she was travelling around the Middle East, bringing together fractured sides and propagating peace, her helicopter was brought down out of the sky by a MANPAD. Because she was the only meta present and her healing powers were above normal, she somehow survived the crash while the rest of her party died. If that ordeal wasn't enough, she was captured by those who shot her helicopter down and taken to a nearby cave-system. It appeared that she was going to die - they had warned of an execution but surprisingly, they didn't want any form of pay-out. They were going to kill her and nothing could reverse that. It was at the scene of her execution that her powers, seeking self-preservation, flared and activated the Orion Constellation. Although she couldn't use the bow that formed in front of her, the stellar-energy hunting dogs tore the throats out of her captors and allowed her to escape. After that, she chose to learn Orion just for protection but it allowed her to adapt to a combat-orientated Meta. Lepus was the third and final constellation she has learned to date. Her choice of this constellation was not only because it was rather easy to learn but it's also a more mobility-based power, allowing her to run at exceptional speeds and do small blinks, which for a normal person processing things at a normal pace, would look like she's jumping to a spot at a pace that causes her form to blur. With this power, she gains a great understanding of her surroundings, allowing her to escape harm by utilising any escape route. Basically, she becomes a parkour-master when she activates this constellation. Weaknesses: With great powers come a great amount of weaknesses. First and foremost is her need to have a direct connection to the stars. If she goes deep underground then her powers become non-existent and will only return when she returns to a more suitable depth. This applies to deep-sea diving as well. Another factor that can have a massive effect on her is the current light-levels. In low light-levels, her powers will be rather weak and she won't be as strong as usual. In high light-levels, such as a full moon, her powers become stronger. Her Achilles Heel is when she's changing forms. Most of her enemies freeze when they see her summoning the power of the stars but if they choose that moment to attack, they'd find that she was in a highly-weakened state with nothing to defend herself with. This has two different forms though - if she's moving from her normal state to a star-form then she'll simply be a little more weakened but if she's moving from one star-state to another then the pain she experiences becomes extremely amplified. A weak punch could have the potential to make her double over in pain while a directed Meta ability could be the most painful thing she's ever experienced. It varies. Skills: -Negotiations -Hand-to-hand combat -Parkour -Piloting -Persuasive skills Equipment: -Handy mobile phone -A small, pen-like object that emits a trail of light that allows her to draw her constellations with the utmost accuracy. Ranking: A (Optional) Brief History: (I've revealed some, I'll reveal more later)</s> <\|message\|>Lachlan Ragnarok "We're just friends and stuff." Loki said, arranging around with flowers. "This isn't our flower shop, but Tom and Claire are out right now, so I gotta put in some hours." He got up and stretched, catching some stray sunlight. He actually appreciated taking the day off to work in the flower shop, because he didn't really feel like doing anything more stressful than heavy lifting. He'd had enough hectic stuff from yesterday, not that he could say that. "So yeah, I haven't really done that much recently." Loki said. "Though I did see that thing with the monsters. It was on the news. Sometimes it just feels like real life is more like a movie than a movie is. Good thing real life isn't transformers, though." Loki counted the flowers that Light picked out, which was a whole lot. It was fine, because flowers grew back, but still a ton. It was good for the store, but also kind of worrying considering they were for condolences. It made Loki wonder just how many had died. Well, if he added the Hydra to the equation, he could get a pretty big number, but still. Also, the flowers were becoming 'cartoony', probably from contact with Light. "You're going to need a big bag for all of these." Loki said, taking them out of her hands and putting them on the counter. "So, how'd the fight go?"</s> <\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya watched as the sad girl ran off to find her sister. She turned to the boy and opened her mouth to say something when suddenly she swayed on her feet, feeling faint. The world around her tipped and it was all she could do to not pass out then and there. In this world she couldn't feel the effects of her injuries or exhaustion, but she could only stay here for so long. Without another word, she bent down to touch the dog. It wouldn't do to leave him stranded as a spirit. Snapping them both back into their bodies, Aya could no longer fight her body and fell asleep, still sitting on the floor and leaning against her bed.</s> <\|message\|>Jake Jake allowed Aya to pull him off of the boy, stepping back a few paces as she tried to pull. In truth he was glad of the opportunity to back up while still looking menacing. Not that the kid seemed to get the whole 'Dog can eat you' vibe he was trying to get across. Kuro's smile kind of bothered Jake. He didn't seem intimidated in the least. Maybe he was losing his touch. The weird crying girl ran off without any kind of explanation as to why she was crying, which only annoyed Jake even more. But from what the overly friendly kid had said, it seemed like he was responsible. Jake could fully understand that. He was pretty annoying. He just hoped he hadn't assaulted her like he had assaulted Jake. Jake quickly lost interest in that situation though when Aya started to sway on her feet. He leaned in towards her legs in an ultimately futile attempt to steady her. He knew it wouldn't work but he had to try anyway. Fortunately she didn't collapse in a heap and instead put a hand to his head. It was then that Jake found himself incredibly disoriented as he was snapped out of the room and back to his body. He felt slightly nauseated as the world around him shifted again. But this time the world regained it's color and he was finally back in his own body. His relief that he wasn't dead dead was quickly replaced by worry as he noted Aya's head droop. He sat up and nuzzled her head with her nose to check on her. After a moment he realised that she was simply asleep and he calmed. He'd let her sleep. She had had a long day. Hell, so had he. With a small yawn, Jake dropped his front paws over Aya's lap and lay his head down. Maybe he would try to get some sleep too.</s>	<\|message\|>Olivia Octavia Delacroix A basic recap of the events so far After deciding to trust Ruby Greenfoot and willingly accept any information she gave to him, Reformist leader Cedric Wessex learned of weaknesses and gaps in the infamous Underground Movement - a group which was nearly impenetrable. Cedric didn't react to this information until the Reformists later learned that the leader of the Underground Movement, Isabella Lancaster had successfully created a child and planted it in a surrogate mother, Cindy Wade. The twist was that the pregnancy would only last for two weeks before the baby was born and began to rapidly grow. Eden, as he would be called, had the powers to turn into a tree whose fruit could heal and grant powers to normal humans. Isabella desired to use this promise of power as a pawn so that she could subjugate the 'unnecessary' and highlight the intelligent and powerful. Cedric, desiring to seek some form of action, organised a board meeting of major Reformist metas including a one Olivia Delacroix, a delegate of the International Heroes. It was decided that they would attempt a process of peace before moving to an all-out assault if peace failed. The next day, Miss Delacroix secretly left the Reformist headquarters and made for the New Sun building, home of the Underground Movement. Once in, she began talks with Isabella Lancaster and although they appeared to be going good, she was shot and had to be rescued by Elijah Craigh. In the process, they smoked out a whole army of genetically engineered monsters. The Reformists, being led by an angry Cedric, had no choice but to meet this sudden appearance of an army with their own. A battle broke out in the surrounding streets and in the tunnels under the New Sun building. Cedric Wessex battled with a young meta and unfortunately lost the battle and an eye. With backup from Light, however, he made it out alive and enemy forces were pushed back. After a few more battles between the two forces, the assault was suddenly cut short by the strategic removal of Cindy Wade and demolition of the New Sun building by Ruby Greenfoot, who had lured Cedric in with information before surprising both the group that held her hostage and the group that had actually forgiven her. Thankfully, most of the Reformists made it out alive and casualties, although high, weren't as high as they should have been. The Underground Movement were forced to retreat with their tail between their legs as they lost two very powerful pawns in their war. The Movement were forced to take up residence in the old Avalon prison facility that had been abandoned by the government. Both groups are in the dark about the location of Ruby and Cindy but during recent days, the Reformists have sent out Scarlett Evermore to find Cindy and remove her from Ruby's custody. The Underground Movement, although wanting Cindy back, have other plans and intend to launch a counterattack to drive their enemy back so that they no longer become a problem. Unbeknownst to the Reformists, Lancaster has a card that she has yet to play that could change the very fate of the war. Only the higher echelons of the Movement know of this metaphorical card and the lower ranked just follow along with Isabella anyways. The attack is scheduled for precisely a week after the Reformist attack and as of yet, no intelligence has been leaked to suggest that an attack will even take place. According to most Reformist strategists, the Movement have retreated to try and recover their strength but they won't be back for a long time. They are very wrong. Seven days later This was probably Cedric's fault! He was a damn idiot and probably thought she was a liability so he had Elijah take up quarters only a few rooms down from Olivia. If that wasn't bad enough, the bastard seemed to have constant access to her room, not requiring the key that she thought only she had - another piece of evidence pointing towards Cedric. Anytime she would even get up to greet the morning, the pyromancer would be there with a snarky comment and breakfast. It all looked disgusting, anyways, like it had been plucked out of some shitty American diner in the middle of nowhere. As usual, on that morning as soon as Olivia left her bedroom, Elijah was waiting for her. Sighing softly, she did what she normally did and simply ignored him, brushing past his large stature and making her way to the coffee machine. She had found a way to piss him off in recent days - she simply hooked her iPod up to the speakers and played some pop music. Elijah was a classical sort of guy so whenever he heard the breath-taking beauty of songs such as 'Anaconda', he was more than likely pissed off. Of course, just to add a pinch of salt and then a whole bottle of vodka to his wound, she hummed along to the entire thing and even sang a few bits in broken French. Elijah hated that as well - there was never a translator on hand so technically, she could say whatever she wanted about him (or his mother) and he wouldn't know a thing about it. "Petite merde!" Her voice even threw him off a little - she sounded chirpy and almost affectionate. Olivia very much enjoyed pissing off Elijah Craigh.</s>
<\|description\|>Camille Mahroug Alias(s): Little Sunshine Age: 25 Affiliations: Mercenary Factions: Underground Movement Description: Black hair, light-brown eyes, elegant legs, an adorable 4'6" in height, what is there not to love about her? Perhaps it is her 11 year old body that may pose a problem to more than one individual. Camille is cursed with a body that doesn't age, meaning no developed chest, no well curved behind, nothing that makes a woman look as gorgeous as she'd wish to be. No amount of makeup would even compensate those glaring factors, but she still prays that more would eventually cover up those insecurities. In terms of clothes, she always tries to remain as fashionable as possible, as expected from a typical French girl. Powers: Senescence Camille's power gravitates around the ability to greatly influence the concept of aging in various ways via specific mediums, many of which cannot be performed without certain drawbacks and/or conditions. Originally her body was biologically incapable of aging at a normal rate, almost stopping at the age of 10 making her essentially immortal. This kind of condition wasn't unheard of and made her a prime candidate for Meta boosting. Aging Acceleration: Camille's most dangerous ability that involves aging anything through a duration she wills, going as far as near infinity and reducing almost anything to dust. This ability can only be applied via contact with her body and only the parts that touched her would age (however it will spread quickly through organic and inorganic material. It can only spread so much through inorganic, but organic bodies aren't massive enough to limit it). The best way to avoid being affected is to not have contact with the rotting material, and if you are affected, amputation is the key. Although still weak, she's able to apply her ability via another medium. One of her arms can be enveloped in a murky, purple substance that launches itself in the form of a stretchable arm of oozing smog. Whatever touches that product is submitted to the same aging process, however she isn't able to move when it is applied and it also weakens her for a long duration of time (it feeds off her blood quantities, thus weakening her in general. The more it is used, the worse it gets.) It can be cut or damaged, but can simply be reformed. Rejuvenation: The reversed effect of accelerated aging, however it does not necessarily reverse aging in its whole. In reality, it affects cells in a way that it forces them back into their prime. This comes with the effect of accelerated healing (in terms of hours, not minutes. Meaning a large wound will still stay just as bad, but will heal faster in the long run), reduction of intoxication efficiency as many poisons and diseases are flushed out by a powerful immune system and overall good shape. Camille is naturally affected by this all the time, however she is able to channel it to another individual (it only lasts for a short period). Movement Dilation: Her ability was inevitably engineered to be used as a useful weapon. Camille wields the ability to slow down whatever goes in a five meter radius of her. The effect isn't very significant, it actually plays out in fractions of a second, but it often enough for her to react and avoid potentially lethal hits. It must be activated in order to take effect, and if activated for too long, she'll start to lose her sense of orientation and quickly lose focus. Movement Lag: Finally, her key movement ability. She is able to reverse her dilation to affect her body directly, causing her movements to be ridiculously fast (near sound speed). But this is only limited to her entire body, meaning she cannot coordinate it specifically for punches or grabs for instance. Instead, she'll use it to move in great speeds to a point. That point must not have any obstacles and can be accessed in a straight line. The more she is prepared, the less taxing on her body it will be (like preparing for a race), meaning that last second dodges will strain her greatly. Why? Her body is submitted to an intense movement and she isn't capable of breathing in that speed, causing her muscles to suffer a whole lot. If she's really desperate, the result will end up being her body covered in searing soars. That and she isn't that buffed physically in general, making her one very fragile flower. Skills: -Champion gymnast -Excellent dexterity -Amateur dancer -Very quick learner (child's brain) -Talented deceiver thanks to her looks -Trained in hand-to-hand combat (by employers) Equipment: -A stolen handgun -White gloves specifically made to keep her aging abilities in check as she gets into contact with more or less anything. Ranking: A Brief History: Born in France, Camille was already considered exceptional with her apparent absence of aging. At first she deemed it "cool" but it eventually struck her greatly when all of her friends grew up normally while she didn't evolve physically and barely mentally. Though the schism with her parents remains more or less mysterious, she ended up being one of the many guinea pigs in the USA's medical research programs. Eventually this lead to her to meeting many greedy individuals who wanted nothing more than a piece of her immortality. Being paid mountains of gold, she was brought to different training and experimentation programs in the hopes of finding the solution many were just dying to find. Let's just say she was more weaponized than anything else in the process of cracking the secrets of her body. It didn't take long for her to end up indoctrinated in this 'fear of death' bullshit she was hearing about all the time by her employers. She ended up growing obsessed with that concept, the idea of her being able to choose whether she could choose when she'd die. This lead her to develop rather unusual needs (to be seen IC, pretty disturbing shit though). Once tired from them, she defected without really giving her bosses a choice.</s> <\|message\|>Jake As Zachary listed off the things around the beach, Jake looked around and mentally checked them all off a list. "Yep, they're all there" Jake confirmed. He wasn't really sure why this was so important to Zachary. Jake hadn't really paid much attention to the surrounding area until just now but Zachary seemed awfully concerned about it. "This place...there's something wrong. There might be some sort of ability at work." Zach told Jake, seemingly mirroring the suspicions Jake was having about this place. "Yeah, either that or we're dead" replied Jake with a chuckle. His expression quickly changed though as he actually thought about that. This place was a literal paradise. It had everything they could ever want or need. A shiver ran down the dogs spine and flashes of a memory ran through his mind. Memories of pain and blood. "Oh god" he said, barely louder than a whisper "Are we dead?" Chatterbox "Neat trick" Nate told Damien as the other man absorbed the energy holding Cer to the tree "Y'know I once knew a guy who could absorb energy just like that. Nice guy that Aleksander...Shame I had to kill him. He made great borscht" "Hey!" came a bark from the other duplicate nearby, snapping the first from his reverie "Stop talking! Classified, remember?" The chatterbox duplicate straightened and looked at Cer and Damien awkwardly "Oh, right...Forget I said anything" He paused only for a second before saying to Cer "So about that double date..." The other duplicate meanwhile had turned his attention away from his motormouth brother just in time to see Kuro blast off of the beach and hurtle towards the sea. As the brat landed with a splash, Nate sighed and turned to the other duplicate "Come on. We better rescue the brat" The other one When Mu asked if he could kill him, Nate only laughed and told him "You have issues." He was about to poke the bear some more when there was suddenly a skeleton crash landing at Aya's feet. This was even funnier to him than Mu in a bubble and he laughed some more. Aya clearly didn't feel the same way about it and backed up into him. He instinctively put his hands to her shoulders to reassure her but she obviously didn't need it as she stepped forward again and kicked the skeletons head clean off it's shoulders and into the water. "Damn girl, you should play for the NFL" he told her as something else smashed into the water. Kuro apparently. It was then that the two duplicates appeared beside him. "Hey" one told him "Kuro's an adult. Physically anyway. Pranked Opie then derped himself into the ocean. Gotta go play hero." It was an abridged version of what had happened but Nate knew not to ask questions. He'd find out whatever he had missed when the duplicates were reabsorbed. Instead he doffed an imaginary hat at Cer before all three ran off towards the ocean to rescue Kuro. "Keep him there" one of the duplicates told Jackson before shaking Mu's energy bubble prison again then following the other Legions. Nate fully intended to rescue Kuro but the way he went about it would make it seem like he didn't. Living out his Baywatch fantasy, the California boy ran towards the water in slow motion, his duplicates beside him doing the same. All they needed was some bitching music to accompany it and this would be awesome. They were snapped out of their collective fantasy though when some kid ran past them and dived into the water towards Kuro. "Oh...right" said Nate, suddenly picking up speed. All three dived into water behind the kid but lost track of him. They did however find a very helpful dolphin as it pushed Kuro back to the surface. The Nate's made their way to the unconscious adult Kuro. "Thanks" Nate told the dolphin, not entirely sure if he was imagining it "We'll take him from here." He took hold of Kuro then, wrapping his arms around his chest and kicking off back towards the beach. "You're a cutie" the chatterbox Nate informed the dolphin as he stroked its nose "Who's a cutie? You're a cutie" "It's not a dog" the other duplicate yelled over his shoulder as he swam off. Once again feeling awkward, the chatterbox duplicate said "Oh...right" and then followed after the others. -0h Bee again.</s> <\|message\|>Elijah Craigh After a few more rounds it was the eyes of Elijah Craig that found Nate holding a e Kuro. I quickly adjusted his Pyro made mortar launcher before shouting words that would the fear of any military man. "DANGER CLOSE!" Jim Harper like instinct took over dropped more sand in the flash mortar. Launching rounds at a swimming Nate. Geysers jumping around Nate and Kuro, from Eli's and Jim vantage point it at the very least look so bad ass. "SWIM NATE, SWWWWIIIIIM!" Eli shouted as he let loose the largest round so far, one that would send water and sand at least 100 feet tall. "I don't much care if the kid gets hurt but I do hope you that's not the real Nate. Might hurt my feelings if he gets hurt too badly." Jim just laughed at Eli.</s>	<\|message\|>Camille Mahroug Camille Mahroug - Timber! Upon witnessing the events unfolding right under Camille's little feet, the young critter quickly took notice of the captain's shadow suddenly appearing over her small figure. She turned her head to acknowledge him, blinking a couple of times before giving him an innocent child's smile of happiness. She tried to make it appear as sincere as possible, though the young man's demeanor didn't really appear all that threatening to her, he actually seemed kind of alright. He was hot, obviously, but seemed also kind of douchie. Though there was no time for fantasies, given she'd actually be into the male gender (ooohhhhhhhhhhh mystery), he wanted some silly fight. "Tee hee, I'll kick your butt pretty boy!" But before she coudl stand up to have a little fun, and even bigger shade overshadowed the two. It wasn't Patel's tentacles, oh no, it was that massive bomb Light had taken out. Camille turned again and looked down to capture a glimpse of what may have created that thing. It was that cartoon girl, the famous one who invaded Camille's home a while back. She was coming back for more, aye? Normally Camille would be quite freaked out considering how much pain it took to dispose of that fighter, but the mind dampening effects of the dreamworld did have some effect on the little girl's common sense. "No I wanna kill her instead!" She insisted to the captain, giving off murder as a casual thing in the process. However before Camille could leap out from the crow's next... BOOM! A giant projectile going at the speed of sound crashed in the middle of the ship's deck, piercing it clean, destroying most of it in the process. The sail's post would inevitably fall, prompting Camille to panic for a second, since well nothing made sense to her at this point. Speedy guy here, bomb cartoon there, random projectile everywhere. But she quickly snapped out of it and let her instinct drive her. She pressed her foot against the falling log of wood as she controlled her fall, allowing her to use the speed of sound to reach Ann's position fairly quickly. Ann would meet up with a panting Camille, the technique had evidently sucked out a lot of stamina from here. "pantHey Ann... This idea pantpant wasn't so hot.. After all! Wheeeewww!" She'd say as they stood on one half of the boat, a half that could easily capsize, sink or simply break down after the tremendous damage it took from the THOR weapon. Camille held her friend's forearm rather tightly in order to keep her balance but also to drag her in if she were to do an emergency escape. One thing Camille should be praised for would be her altruistic nature toward she holds dear, and in this world Ann was very important to her.</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Alias(s): Honey Day Ann followed the man in silence, still looking around hoping for a glance of something... incriminating. But it all seemed alright and the man opened up a private room. "Thanks..." she muttered under her breath as she stepped into the room. It was quiet and looked cozy. "No... there is no one. I'm fine." She answered without the confidence to back that assurance up. But the man didn't press further and left. He came back some time later with food and clothes and Ann took a long overdo shower and picked at the food she was given, still fearing sabotage. The clothes were plain but they were clean. Fresh undies and a bra felt terrific. A clean white shirt and a loose, pink sweater, with a comical cartoon kitten on the front. Finally a pair of jeans finished this conservative look. Then she fell asleep while watching cartoons and awoke the next day. The man, introduced as Max, who had offered her assistance, brought her breakfast and Ann finally opened up and admitted her Meta status. She agreed to a sort of Meta physical which was more of an interview. She told them of her powers, of Ariadne, and some information about her origin. A lab in the middle of Arizona was most likely responsible, she admitted she didn't know much before that. She mentioned that there were others and that they escaped somehow but wasn't sure how. Seemingly satisfied, they gave her the rest of the day. She wandered and explored the building but eventually settled on watching cartoons again. This time in the staff break room because it was surprisingly warm and it offered a nice view from the third story window of the park she had just been at yesterday.</s> <\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Today had been a long day. Midterms, work, people… all Aya wanted to do was collapse into bed. Turning the last corner, she saw her building casting a shadow over her, relief washing through her at finally coming home. As she walked along the path, she saw a read-headed man collapse in front of the landlord's door. Concern ripped through her as she watched as the landlord and his wife usher him inside. Aya's brow still crinkled in worry, but at least the man would be taken care of. At least, she thought so until she heard a scream that froze her blood. Aya's feet were glued to the pavement, unable to move. Something was wrong. Someone was in pain. Her mind shouted at her to move, to see what the danger was and help, but fear paralyzed her where she stood. Something that would make someone scream like that… what could she possibly do to help? Maybe if she just… but memories shot through her at the last time she'd used her powers. The fear and guilt that rushed through her every time she thought of it, the man's face, distorted by rage, his angry shouts… and then the echoing silence when he died. Another scream tore through the air, ripping Aya out of her memories. She had to do something. At the very least she had to see what the situation was, and if she even could do anything. Decision made, she steeled herself, ducking into the alley next to the apartment. Sitting down on the dirty floor, she took a deep breath. Second thoughts rushing through her head, Aya switched on her power. Suddenly, the overwhelming LA heat, city smells, the hard ground underneath her were all gone. Sounds became muffled, as if Aya had cloth over her ears, and when she opened her eyes, the world was dark around her, objects and people shining brilliant like stars in the night sky. Only her spirit carried the same colors as in life, and she raised her hands to her eyes. She was getting more and more accustomed to the changes that came when she activated her abilities, but every time they still perplexed her. Another scream came, this time muffled by the veil separating her spirit from the world, and she remembered what she was supposed to do. Standing up, Aya left her body behind and walked through the wall of the apartment so she was standing in the living room. And then she screamed. The sight that greeted her was horrifying. The ginger man (clearly a Meta) was laughing as he draped carnage around the room like tinsel. Forgetting that no one could hear her, Aya slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her scream. Her body trembled as she watched in horror. The Meta took absolute delight in the nightmare he unleashed, blood spraying every which way as he murdered two people and corrupted a third. Aya dropped to her knees and began dry heaving, sickened by the sight. And then in the next moment she was snapped back into her body, uneasiness building in her stomach. She threw her head to the side and threw up until her stomach was empty, and all that was left was her rasping coughs. Rocks and cement dug into the skin of her palms and she clutched for something to ground her, to remind her that she was awake and not living through some twisted nightmare, panting out heaving breaths. She stayed like that for a few minutes when she heard the apartment door open and that man's sickeningly sweet voice. Pushing herself back up to a sitting position, Aya wiped at fresh tear tracks on her face before switching back to the astral plane. She had to call the police… but first something was telling her to follow this man. And so she did – all the way down into some hidden alcove. She watched in confusion as different people made themselves known. A scientist who could apparently control dragons, an elegant woman, a young girl… Understanding dawned on her as they discussed. This was the Underground Movement. And the murderer, Sebastian Lyon… worked for them? They weren't exactly on good terms, but that seemed like the case. And they were planning something awful. Aya watched until the discussion was done and all parties left. Following Sebastian out the back door, she paused as she felt her spirit tug back to her body. Seemed like she'd reached the end of her range. Fear thrumming threw her at all she had witnessed, Aya snapped back to her body. With shaking hands she fumbled through her bag for her cell phone. "Hi, police? I'd like to report a double murder and a kidnapping." Her voice came out in short spurts between pants (or was she hyperventilating?). Rattling off the address of her building, she continued on, "The murderer, he's… I don't know, he's some kind of monster. Red hair, twenties, tall… he's a Meta, really dangerous. Does… I don't know he cuts people with his blood or something. Tell whoever you send he's dangerous." Now she was hiccuping, fresh tears streaming down her face. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself, she ran a hand down her face. Giving the operator the address of where she'd seen Sebastian exiting the… hideout? she almost added on her thoughts that it was where the Undergroun Movement met, but kept her mouth shut for reasons she didn't know. This was all too messed up. Why was she involved in this at all? Hanging up the phone, Aya rested her head against the hard brick of her building. Really, where had she gone wrong in her life that had lead her to this day? Meet our newest character, Aya. She sees Sebastian massacre a family at her apartment building, reacts appropriately, and uses her powers to follow him, watching his interactions with Isabella, Isaac, and Camille. Then she calls the police on his ass.</s> <\|message\|>Ian Sebastian Sebastian, after exiting the base, made his way back to the house to see if Cassandra, or Cassie as he was going to call her, was ready to go when he noticed a young woman crying near while leaning against the building. Oh my, those are real tears you can tell by the look on her face, she's been having a bad day. . . Lets see if I can't make it worse. With that pleasant thought in his head he aporoached the woman, adopting a face of genuine concern as he approached her. "Hello, ma'am, are you alright?"</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya was fairly certain she felt her heart stop in her chest when she heard that same voice. The voice that had laughed as a man and woman were massacred. The voice that had manipulated and maneuvered around a deadly deal. With wide eyes, she snapped her head over to look at the monster who would be sure to haunt her dreams. To all the world he looked like just a concerned passerby, but Aya couldn't forget the sickening grin he'd wore as he murdered her landlord and his wife. Trembling, she opened her mouth to say something only to find her voice caught in her throat. Her thoughts ran like a bullet train through her mind as she stared at him. He knew. He knew what she'd seen and he'd come back to kill her. He'd torture her just like he'd done to the others, and leave her body in the alley, and the last thing she'd hear echoing in her ears would be his laugh. "I–" She was brought back to reality though when she heard the sound of sirens ringing down the street. The police. They'd come, they would arrest this monster, and Aya would be ok. Maybe he didn't know what she'd done. All Aya really had to do was keep him here, right? And it wasn't like she was completely defenseless. This man had blood on his hands… but now she did too. These thoughts all rushed through her head in a moment, and Aya clamped her mouth shut, taking a swallow. Closing her eyes, she ran a hand down her face and took a deep, shaking breath. "My uh…" her voice was a quivering thing as she tried to get her thoughts in order. "My dad died," she said with a wet smile as she held up her phone. "I'm sorry, I'm fine, you don't have to deal with this." Fresh tears spilled down her face and she leaned back against the wall. The sirens grew louder in the distance. An idea occurred to her then. Looking at him out of the corner of her blurry eye, she gave another half smile. "Lynn," she said, holding out a hand to him. "Nice to meet you."</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Elijah Craigh Eli smiled and laughed when he thought back at the events that day at the LAPD. Those were simpler days where he could walk the streets and no one really knew who he was. "Think I only killed four that day. In fact during that whole ordeal I didn't really kill anyone else that I can remember. Shit I killed more in the last little bit than I did in that whole thing." Again he smiled thinking back to those days. " I went in there with Ruby after I saved her from some silly shit. She got freaked out after I shot one cop three times, cut out another ones throat, and snapped the neck of a third. Didn't stick around to watch me burn that one bastard alive. He was my the last person I needed to take out... Still hard to figure how Ruby turned like she did. Some people get a little power and all of a sudden they think they can go and do damn near anything they want. Nerve of some people." Eli knew the samd could be said if him. Truth be told his actions were worse, most of the killing he had done was planned and he enjoyed it for what it was. Trash the needed burning. He had also killed his fair share of decent people. He never did the diligence on those three cops he did kill. He just hoped they were dirty and left it at that. Deep down he doubted they were, deep down he didn't really care. That was also the big thing kept him from being on of the good guys. He didn't care enough, he had no reason to bring them in and let them go through the courts. He had no reason to play by the books and take the chance to get hurt. Easier to kill them all and let the good lord sort them out. A pithy of quotes from Stormin Norman came to out. "Forgiveness is a function of G-d and my job is to arrange the meetings." that was the chief among them. He liked the idea of that quote. That it wasn't his job to cast judgments. Just make sure he did what he had to do. That helped him greatly during his time I military, helped more in his time with the Russian Mob. Something he had crippled so baddly it was highly doubtful that they'd ever recover. He was highly proud of that fact. His own pride aside it was time that he checked on the girl.</s> <\|message\|>Valentin Caro Constantine had gotten out of the labyrinth, an act that was much faster than one would think due to the fact that, well, no one saw him wander in and out of it. Once in the New Sun Tower's park, where all the civilians had been evacuated; the civilians inside the tower itself were being guarded by Spectrum and Owlman, the man then dipped his hands into his pockets, which were specially modified to act as portals to an alternate dimension that contained all sorts of tools and stuff, and pulled out...a microphone. "Operation Milivian Bridge is a-go! Repeat, Operation Milivian Bridge is a-go!" thanks to the Microphone's sophisticated tech, the sound was heard all across the area, reaching every inch of the battlefield. Even the Hydra would be halted, before several people would teleport into the grounds of the New Sun Corporation, which had been evacuated of all civilians except for those still being safeguarded by Spectrum and Owlman inside the tower. These people were clad in costumes bearing two insignia, the first one was a simple 'IH', the symbol of the International Heroes. The second was a new symbol, a Sword of Flame. "Greetings, Ladies and Gentlemen," spoke Constantine, "this is Constantine Ramiel King, former leader of the International Heroes, telling you that 1.) reports of his death are fake, and 2.) the announcement of a new sub-section of the IH, agreed upon by current leader Cedric Wessex..." this was a lie, meant to infuriate said Wessex to being more firm, "...the Fiery Guardians!" Constantine then clapped several times, a sound also projected all across the park. As the False Angels and False Ophanim finally noticed Consty and made after him, a second teleportation brought the leader of the Fiery Guardians, one 'Blink', to Constantine's side, along with two other Heroes; Vapor, a female Meta clad in Ancient Greek Armor and carrying a Trident and Water pouch and Royal, a young man with messy black hair and wearing a porcelain mask and crown, as well as a spandex costume with the insignias mentioned before. Vapor created two shields of, well, Water Vapor to shield the group from a sudden assault of laser lights, before Royal, facing the enemies with his porcelain mask, stretched out his sceptre, marking out the New Sun Park and grounds as his 'territory', where he can dictate rules that everyone must folllow, including himself (which was the power's weakness). Instantly, the Hydra's Fire, Ice, and Acid Breaths ceased, Royal's power outlawing the use of all three elements as long as he is in his territory. This allowed a tall and well-built Hispanic Man, Carlos Hererra aka Rocketman, to fly up, and then to the Hydra's right, with the trajectory of a bullet, carefully avoiding Insominum's dragon construct and blasting through the creature's side and causing a rain of blood to spurt out. However, the Hydra, though disabled and partly disempowered, was not totally defeated yet, due to its regenrative capabilities, as well as its remaining weapons; laser eyes and hard-light constructs. Former MHLA Headquarters Valentin Caro had been believed permanently traumatized by his almost being burnt alive, his healing by Healing Spore, and being forced to give information about Merc Metas that was later used by Aperture in their gambit to divide Metahumans and Normal Humans against each other. And, well, it was only the permanent part that was false. No, for Valentin (or Valentine), the events of the Aperture War had been only a set back. However, he had a debt to pay to his rescuers first, William Plantagenet and Cedric Wessex, the latter a child soldier at the time of his rescue. And, well, a little birdie (Cough, FakeDeath!Consty, Cough) had told him that by avanging the MHLA, an organization whose probable killer had pheromone powers similar to his, would help pay said debt. Oh, and the MHLA had various properties and assets he can take over; that was a plus. Of course, he had to clear the rotten corpses himself, that was a minus, but that was what his lower-level goons, both Normal and Meta, were for. Thankfully, there was an improvised smokeless crematorium, made by Metahuman Tinkering/Gadgeteering, on the lower grounds. After that came the washing of the building with rosewater and disinfectants, and finally, the move to take possession of the building itself. Unknown to him, Constantine was setting him up as a buffer against the Third Party and their coming attack on LA; a person like Caro was a scumbag, but even scumbags deserved a chance at redemption; it's just that Caro didn't know that he was being given that chance, by acting as a shield between the Third Party and the International Heroes...</s> <\|message\|>Ian Sebastian "I have no doubt, or else I'd be having my fun with you as we speak, just like I did with the people who used to live here, but slower." Sebastian looked over to admire his handiwork before snapping his fingers. The blood that stained everything lifted off into the air, forming a sphere that floated above his head. Turning back to the girl, he pointed at her, and the bloid in her left arm began to burn, quickly spreading through her body, as well as rising in intensity. "Now then, tell me how you kniw what you know, or you die here. Try to stall agaun or play me in a game, and I'll have no choice but to turn you into my next big project, and I assure you, it won't be pleasant. For you, anyways, I'll be having a blast." -0h Kuro Kuro had left the room as soon as he heard that people in here knew who did this. . . or close behind Eve when she ran out of the room. Either way, he was gone, planning escape routes in his head for running away from his victims if he ever saw them again. He entered one of the staff rooms, and saw that girl again, along with her ghostly companion. He was currently in the Zone, so the girl wouldn't be able to see him, but the ghost would. Walking up to the ghost, Kuro cleared his throat, so as to get her attention. "Hello there, deceased person, My name's Kuro and I'm wondering why you be haunting your twin." Insomnium: Apocalypse Mode As the human Rocket busted through the Hydra, Apocalypse saw an opening to finish this fight. He shifted into a stream or shadow and flew into the beast, the red glow of his energy providing plenty of light to sustain his shadows. Now inside the beast, he began to devour it from the inside out, spreading through it's body like a cancer. Tendrils would burst from it's skin at certain intervals, covered in gnashing red maws that would curl around the outside of the beast, continuing their nightmarish feasting. Santa Bee</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya bit back a scream as her blood ignited and threatened to sear the very skin from her bones. Tears were now coming quickly, burning tracks down her face and pitiful whimpers escaped her mouth. "I heard them!" she shouted against the pain. "I work at New Sun, I heard them talking." Her voice was course and caught in her throat, hidden behind sobs. The only coherent thought she could form underneath her agony was that she couldn't tell him she was a meta. It was the one thing she could possibly have over him, her only chance to walk out of this situation alive at all. "Please, I swear!"</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Jake Jake understood the girls reluctance to talk to cops. He didn't like them either. They were always so mad. Chasing after him like morons. Slow morons. He dropped back down to the floor and started heading towards the door. The girl had asked to go to her room and Jake had already decided to go with her, not even bothering to wait for anyones permission. A lot of what Jake did these days was purely instinctive. He didn't put much thought into anything. He just followed his gut. And his gut was always hungry. He figured this room the girl was talking about may have had food in it. Or at least it had a better chance of having food than this place did...Unless the doctors were edible. He gave one a quick glance as he passed and decided they probably wouldn't taste very good anyway. And they had saved his ass. He turned his head to look back at the others and stopped on the girl. She was obviously scared and Jake felt for her. He decided that at least for the time being, he'd stay by her side. At least until she wasn't afraid anymore. He turned his eyes towards prettyboy and asked him "Well, are you guys coming or not?"</s> <\|message\|>Maxwell Shepard. "Willow Points." Max said, committing it to memory. "Right, if you find there's anything you've forgotten from your apartment we can send someone down there to pick it up. Just give me a list. Right this way, please. Damien, I'll catch you later. I have tons of paperwork to fill out after this." He gave Damien and wave and lead Aya past Jake, turning to look at the dog as he did so and giving him a nod. "You need anything, just send me a thought and I'll see what I can do. The cafeteria is always open, complimentary to guests, and if you like we can have food delivered. You should find a map of the building in your room, showing all the places you're allowed to go in this building. The floor you're staying on is a little elfy right now, truth be told we've never been as packed as this so there's nothing I can do about that. Just try your best to ignore them, it's what I do..." A Maxwell lead the girl and the dog away, giving his little tour guide speech the rush started to arrive. Spore covered reformists and police where wheeled into the room through the emergency entrance, gently carted onto beds. Among them, sleeping deeply as his bones mended, was the Owlman.</s> <\|message\|>Ian Damien Seeing nothing better to do, Damien heads off to his apartment, grumbling as he finally saw the text message that Alto sent him. "Fucking hell, I did a lot more than that, but I guess I can try and squeeze that out of the reformists later, once I'm back in fighting condition." Sebastian "I think I have decent chance against that simpleton, given enough time to formulate a plan and such, but given how he doesn't feel pain and decent isn't a chance I like to take, I'll comply." Sebastian exited the dark of the alleyway with a smile on his face, Cassandra flowing behind with a few scalpels and other, painful looking instruments, which she was presently cleaning. Behind them, a few low groans could be heard, as well as rivulets of blood inking it's way out of the darkness. "Besides, I didn't even now if Isabella was alive, kinda disappointed that she is to tell the truth, and I had to leave any way to get my little protege. Her name's Cassie and I liberated her from a rather nasty parent. We've bonded since then over torture and death, and her ability is very useful for the second one." Cassandra stepped forward a little shyly, putting the instruments a way in her backpack as she did so. She didn't know what it was about the man in front of her, but she found his words to be highly persuasive. "H-hi, My name's Cassandra, and it's a pleasure to meet you." She considered putting her hand out to shake hands with one of them, but quickly decided against it. She knew this guy was a meta, and her experience with Aya made her wary of touching on without knowledge of their power. Thinking of Aya also made her a little sad as well, as she felt very much betrayed when the older girl had turned on them. Aya's tutoring sessions had been a beam of light in the hopelessness of her situation, and she'd been very excited at the thought of her coming with them. Sadly, it seemed as if that was not to be. Sebastian cracked his neck as he walked up to Vince, a smile on his face as tendrils started to creep up from behind his back. "Now then, please turn off you power, fascinating as it is to watch you use it on others, I truly despise when you use it on me. I do hate it when I'm not in control of my own thoughts, it makes me very annoyed. Would you like to help me work off steam, or would you like to live? I'll go to Isabella either way, you have my word on that front, but if you don't stop with what your doing, you'll be joining my friends in the alley back there."</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya's jaw dropped when she walked into her room. Seriously, this was like a hotel suite! Wide open space, a fluffy bed, a TV and numerous game consoles, a computer, and her own bathroom… and was that a jacuzzi? She spun around, taking it all in (and was excited to see a little garden outside – she adored flowers). And there was her suitcase, neatly sitting beside the bed. Still in awe at how cushy this guest room was, Aya forced her sore body towards her bag and unzipped it. First order of business was a shower – she was fairly certain she smelled like blood and terror. She paused though, when she remembered the dog that had followed her all the way up to her room. Turning to him, she knelt down and looked him in the eye, giving his head a scratch. "So, are you my new companion?" she asked quietly. "Heard you were in that mess at New Sun. You must be quite the hero, huh? I guess that makes me pretty lucky to have you." She gave him a small smile and figured heroes deserved a treat (her dad had always teased her that she was too soft and spoiled anything with fur and big eyes). Walking to the fridge, she pulled it open to find it fully stocked… but with people food, not dog food. Aya wasn't sure what she expected. Remembering what Max had said about ordering food, she picked up the phone on the night stand and stammered her way through ordering room service while being overly aware of the fact that she was a guest and taking advantage of their hospitality when they'd already given her this luxurious room. After that was done, she walked into the bathroom with a change of clothes and took what was both the most agonizing and best shower of her life. Aya walked back into the room, still dripping and sore, but at least she was clean. Opening her door, she found the plate she'd ordered sitting outside and brought it in, placing it on the ground and removing the lid. She'd ordered a steak. "Alright buddy, eat up," she said to the dog. She'd probably just find something to eat in the fridge, though at the moment her appetite was nowhere to be found. She gave a little jump when her ringtone cut through the air. Fumbling for her phone, she looked at it and raised her eyebrows in surprise when she looked at the caller ID. "<Mom?>" she answered in Japanese. "<What time is it over there?… No, I'm fine… I live on the other side of the city Mom, I wasn't anywhere near it. It had nothing to do with me.>" That was probably the biggest lie she'd ever told, she thought as she looked down at her ruined hand. "<No, it's–… what?… I'm just tired, ok?… Long day at work, and I've got a lot of stuff to do…>" Aya ran a hand over her face – and then regretted it when she realized it was her right hand and touching it at all caused pain to shoot up her arm. "<Yeah,>" she said, not wanting to talk to her mom for longer than necessary. "<Yeah, ok… Bye.>" With a sigh, Aya hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed. Even when the conversation wasn't bad, talking to her mom stressed her out. Too tired to move around, but too anxious to sleep, Aya plopped down on the floor next to the bed, leaning her head against the plush sheets. She watched the dog as she let out another puff of air. An idea came to her, but Aya was hesitant about it at first… thus far nothing ever good had come from using her powers. But… it would be ok if it were here, wouldn't it? And then she thought back to when she'd failed to use her powers when she meant to with Sebastian. If she'd just had better control then, she'd have a working hand right now. She mulled it over for a bit longer, before finally just closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Why not?" she asked herself. Aya looked over to the dog then. "Hey buddy, want to come exploring with me, or stay here and take care of my body? Either way I'll feel better with you looking out for me." She'd never actually tried bringing an animal with her before. Then again, she'd also never met an animal that spoke english. Who knew how this would turn out? Aya gets situated in her room, showers, orders a steak for Jake, and has a tense phone call with her mom in Japanese. Then she invites him to go exploring with her via her powers. zero</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Light "Oh, being attacked. Took them long enough." Light said, looking down at the thing that was entering the building. Ignoring Cedric, she jumped off the roof, and besides leaving a hole that was her shape, Light was mostly unharmed but a bit dazed. She snapped out of it and caught up to the intruder, who was being fired upon by the bases security measures. Considering they were meant to kill and not secure, Light figured she didn't need to be gentle with it. She could hear faint whispers in her head, but she ignored them, she was already crazy enough as is. Waiting for an opening, Light put down a hole and appeared behind the thing, going for what she assumed would be its kidney.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Octavia Delacroix "I'm familiar with his file." Olivia finally admitted as Eva finished reading the document which she had fetched just to attempt to get one up on Elijah. "I also know that he's a deplorable human being with enough blood on his hands to fill this room." Giving Elijah a scathing look, her lips set into a soft smile. "I've been keeping an eye on him, though. He's a danger to society with little to no desire to fit into normal, human ideologies. His alliance with Cedric Wessex, the only thing stopping him from killing both of us, is shaky at best. If that alliance was to break, I can't imagine him putting up with me much longer but Hell, at least there'd be a warrant for his arrest." Olivia was clearly distrustful of both Cedric and Elijah but she really did not like Elijah - she didn't even use his name when talking about him. Just at that, a voice cut over the speakers in her room; it was Cedric, requesting her presence and initiating an evacuation. "Drills aren't fun." She groaned heavily, downing her coffee before jogging to her room. There was something different this time - the air itself felt heavy and the sounds of the early-morning traffic faded into the background, almost as if both nature and civilization were holding their breathes in anticipation for the next event. Changing within a few moments, she nodded to Eva as she moved past. "Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." With that, she escaped out into the corridor where a few people were moving to the elevator to get down and out. Taking the stairs up, she ignored the awkward feeling in her chest - the wound was still healing and like it or not, she was limited a little. When she finally arrived at Cedric's office, he explained the situation to everyone present. She absorbed the information with a moment's notice and activated Orion as Canis Major and Canis Minor joined her on the battlefield. Olivia didn't know exactly where to go so she followed Cedric to the roof to oversee evacuations. When Cedric left, she decided to fill him in on some necessary information. "Cedric, that thing is moving inside the building. We need to get Light down there now to make sure that it doesn't get through to the inner supports. If it tears those things apart, it'll take this entire building down with everyone inside of it. There's also two individuals taking up point on each exit of the building. They don't look like our forces. I'll go deal with one so send someone else to get the other. I'll try give you as much support as possible." With that, she pulled her fingers away from the earpiece and let out an unprepared sigh. The last few minutes had been such a rush that Olivia had forgot to even feel some of the basic, human emotions. She needed fear if she wanted to get through today so, upon taking a few deep breathes, she finally pulled her thoughts together. Thankfully, she began to feel the familiar sense of suddenly feeling the urge to be sick. Fear was a good thing when you were going into a life-threatening situation. Standing, she surveyed the area below her before moving back into the building and down to the ground floor. Using the sounds of screams and explosions, she made her way around Patel's advances and found herself in the open air where evacuees were desperately trying to escape. There was a man stopping them (Vince) and she had to stop him. Taking the initiative, she raised her bow and firmly grasped the string with two fingers. Dragging it back, an arrow seemed to form out of nowhere as she took aim. Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out. Shoot. Releasing the arrow, it flew with stunning accuracy towards its target. The arrow itself had no piercing qualities but simply generated a shockwave which was enough to knock someone off their feet. With that, she released another few arrows, trying to force her target a few steps back as the evacuees parted around her, revealing her to Vince.</s> <\|message\|>Elijah Craigh Eli tossed the folder that was in his hand down on the ground. Eli ran out into hallway and walked into his room. There were three Go Bags sitting ready. Slinging one his back Eli reached into his pants pocket and called Cedric. Cedric kept running through the halls, taking advantage of the dissolcing roofs and drop-in panels, before hearing Eli's call. Briefly stopping, he said: "Let me guess, you're going to go off and do your own thing?" the 20-year old felt a small burst of metaphorical heat in the back of his head; he was a little angry, but not at Eli; he can do whatever he wanted. Rather, he was angry at fate itself for throwing him such a dick move. "All right, I assume you'll be keeping Olivia safe?" Cedric continued resignedly. "I know it's Lancaster but who is attacking? I got a place North of here that'll keep her safe. It'll take me about ten minutes to get there back. "Eli said slinging another over his shoulder. "From Security Cameras, it seems like a hooded figure who extends metahphysical tendrils and arms that can break even the unbreakable, with little to no range limit to said arms! Said hooded figure, according to several people's dying messages, seems to access his or her powers by muttering gibberish!" Cedric said frantically. Eli froze for a more than a moment. Caught up in pure terror, he stumbled when tried to speak for a second. "Cedric if you have any value for your own life run. Keep running and don't look back, this binding and almost everyone in it is dead. Good luck kid." With that said Eli hung up the phone. He had a pretty good idea of what was about to happen. Cedric was going to die here and Olivia was going to take over. He thought silently for a a second. In his own twisted mind of right and wrong. Cedric was still a child for the most part, ill suited to what needs to be done. Oiliva could and more than likely would be the better option here. But deep down, Eli was gonna miss him. Eli quickly picked up the third bag and went back to Oilivas room. Eva WA was cowering in a corner while Albert, Oilivas Butler, was trying to to pack a bag for her. Say what you will about him. The guy was dedicated. Eli called over to Albert, and did what he could to comfort Eva while he waited for Albert to finish what he was doing. Albert held much the same thoughts on Eli that his boss held. The thoughts didn't bother him as much as that constant look of disgust. Eli explained exactly what to do and how to do it. Where to go and how to get there. It was a detailed explanation on how to escape and go north to a location hidden away just a handful of miles north to Angeles National Forest. There was plenty of places to hide and Eli had paid plenty of money to make sure those places were kept that way. Handing off two of the go bags and reexplained everything. He quickly left and went to find Oiliva. It didn't take long to find her. Too much time together is what Eli guessed. "Dela, gives me pause you running down my name like that. If I was gonna kill you, or Eva I'd of done it by now. Honestly I'm starting to like you..." Eli said just after watching the her loose a few arrows. He sighed right then knowing how difficult this was gonna be. "All that aside, I need you to come with me. I'd much obliged if this went the easy. It'd save us both a lot of time,I don't even know if I can kill what's coming." Eli knew she wasn't about to jump into his arms and take off, but it never hurt to try the easy first. He looked at the man who Oiliva had just shot at. Eli couldn't help it, or damn sure couldn't hurt anything. "Good Lord that man is pretty. Holy hell I'm not even gay but I'd fuck that man. Land of Goshen that is a highly fuckable man." Eli couldn't help but chuckle. Maybe it would be lighten the mood but Eli sure as hell thought it was funny.</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya's head shot up when she heard a bark from the doorway. Seeing that Cedric no longer needed her, she darted over to follow Jake out the door and down the hall. That woman with the greying hair was doing her best to herd people towards the back exit. Miss… Sir? Aya wasn't sure but this really wasn't the time to be questioning names. She followed the group out the door just in time for the air to fill with an inhuman whispering, thick with promises of destruction. People around her were just meandering around, seemingly put out by the inconvenience of this "drill." She gaped then as the Sir woman stepped back into the building.</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Jake Monsters When the blood pierced his muzzle, Jake tried to yelp in pain but no sound came out. He hated this man. He wanted him dead. He wanted to kill him. Sebastian tossed the dog aside and Jake hit the ground hard but ignored the pain, trying frantically to get the blasted blood muzzle off of his face. He heard the maniac talk with Aya but he didn't pay attention to what was being said. He was too angry to listen. He continued to paw at the blood over his mouth as more blood tendrils approached him. When he noticed them he jumped into an attack posture, even though there was little he could do to them without his mouth beside growl. But then there was nothing to be done. He heard a dull thud from nearby and then the blood dropped to the ground. Finally free of the horrific restraint, Jake turned to see both Aya and Sebastian drop too. He had seen Aya use her power enough now to know what was going on. She had taken Sebastian to the astral plane. He couldn't decide if that was clever or stupid. Mouth finally healing, he made his way quickly to Aya's side and sniffed at her to see if there was any sign of her waking. She didn't move though and Jake shifted his attention back to Sebastian, growling through his teeth at him. He too was unconscious. This was Jake's chance. He was going to kill the creep. It was nothing less than he deserved. Nothing less than he had given to everyone else here. He stepped over to the seemingly lifeless Sebastian and stomped his forepaws down on the killers chest. There was enough force behind the blow to leave a bruise and maybe even deeper damage. But that wouldn't matter. He was going to be dead in a second anyway. With another deep growl, Jake looked down at Sebastian, ready to tear into his throat and and his miserable life...But then something caught his eye. Jake looked up to see a young girl standing about 50 feet away. She couldn't have been more than five or six years old and clearly a meta if the scales on her forehead and neck were any indication. Jake had met this girl before, although he failed to remember her name. She had been laughing. Smiling...And now she stood, surrounded by death. The expression on the girls face was one of pure horror. Eyes wide and jaw slack. Tears rolled down her face though she had been stunned into silence by the events that had just transpired. Jake couldn't blame her. Sebastian had...Wait...She wasn't looking at Sebastian. She was looking Jake dead in the eye. Jake suddenly realised what he must have looked like to this girl. A snarling, rage filled beast covered in blood and burns, about to kill a defenceless man...A monster. Was that what he was? Was that what this girl saw him as? He didn't want that. He didn't want this girl to be afraid of him. There were plenty of real monsters around here for her to be afraid of. He didn't want to be one of them. His head was swimming now and his heart pounding. He didn't want to be a monster. -0h</s> <\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Though beautiful, the astral plane did little to mask the carnage around her. There was no more iron in the air to make Aya gag, but all around she could see the mangled, half-dissolved bodies. She'd done this. Sebastian may have been a murderer, but who had let him live? Who'd let him remain a threat to everyone in the city? All this death could've been avoided if Aya'd just done the responsible thing when she should've and left him to die. If she'd just done the right thing then… Aya drifted to the bodies, too weighed down by her guilt to bother moving her legs as she normally did. But then something caught her eye. One of the bodies glittered slightly, and then a starry mist raised from it and dissipated. The soul, she realized with a start. She'd just witnessed someone dying. She looked around again and found another body beginning to glow and darted over, leaning close to it. She watched as the glow grew and the mist began to rise. Captivated, Aya reached out a hand, and the soul drifted through her feelings. Flashes of emotion shot through her – pain, sorrow, acceptance… for a single moment she was part of that soul. And then it drifted away just like the one before. A shiver ran through her, feeling that she'd just invaded on something terribly intimate. Hearing Sebastian's voice, she looked over to find him sitting down, accepting whatever fate would come to him. He was so calm… how could he be so calm after killing so many? Aya just stared at him, trying to understand. She had no reason to fear him here, but he still set her skin prickling. The adrenalin fading out of her system, she couldn't bring herself to feel the rage she'd felt before. "Tell me where Cassandra is," she finally managed to say.</s> <\|message\|>Ian Sebastian "She's at some old base, Avalon or some such nonsense, that the Underground movement has taken over as their own. It's not like I could very well bring her here, she has no way of fighting effectively. While my care for her life is low, it doesn't mean I'd throw it away by bringing her here." Sebastian repined as he watched the Aya's mutt come close to his body, looking as if he was about to tear his throat out. And yet, the beast stopped, for whatever reason Sebastian couldn't understand. So he'd live a while longer before he went to hell, or into nothingness if their was no such thing as an afterlife. Turning to look around, he saw the saw strange stardust that Aya had seen rising from a body next to him. Curious, he stretched his hand into it, and he'd feel similar emotions as Aya had. He'd feel the pain, so agonizing that it made him want to wretch, the sorrow that came with knowing that you were going to die, and the acceptance that came after it. Wriggling his fingers, he couldn't help but chuckle a little. "You really have a marvelous ability, Lynn, truly magnificent. Truly enviable, the ability to feel one's soul as they pass on. Truly an interesting experience. . . that is all I've deer wanted, for life to be interesting and fun. Just so happens that my definitions of fun differ from the norm, from what people find acceptable." Sebastian gave another look at Jake, still quite puzzled by the dog's actions. "Do you have any idea why your pet didn't rip my throat out? There is nothing to stop him, he had every right, and yet he stopped himself from taking his rightly earned vengeance. I'd call it stupidity, but then I'd be looking the gift horse in the mouth. . . .I guess by questioning it, I already am, aren't I?" -0h</s> <\|message\|>Solf Patel The Walk of God - Part 4 Mu's final endeavor before leaving appeared to be quite futile as the vector coming out behind Patel subsided upon meeting up with its creator. As a matter of fact, the transparent vectors had all vanished the instant Patel's previous target started to flesh for some strange reason. All of a sudden, a beam of energy was shot, but the starting flash was enough for Patel's abnormal way of sensing things to react. "..." An armored body of a security guard a meter away from Patel would be grabbed after the quick whisper and whipped in the middle of the beam's trajectory. Patel only proceeded that way because it could only guess by the feel of the armor that it was meant to resist, effectively deflecting the beam while leaving the majority of the body burned. Then came Light who had regenerated from everything. Solf could finally recognize the individual known as the Reformists' trump card, the living cartoon that didn't fear death for a second. Lancaster and Camille had warned the entire team of her potential, and even though Patel's mind would be too damaged to make effective use of the intel, it knew she was the number one threat. Even though Patel continued a perfectly linear walk without a single interruption, it kept its focus on Light rather than anything else. It noticed a new tool being used, a bottle filled with liquid. In Solf's simple mind, it would be weapon, meaning it would represent a danger. It would make that deduction even with a small candycane. "...Ru ..." A stronger sound came out of Patel's being, this one barely echoing but ringing strongly in the ears of those in the room (and the rooms nearby with the walls are torn apart). The second later, a portal opened up in front of it, catching it somewhat by surprise, as it was ready to explode with the many factors verified by Light for a good combustion. However, in reaction to Patel upping its game with the sight of Light's threatening body language, it had easily caught the bottle as it would explode with one of its invisible hand (because the vile wasn't organic) and had the vector purposely enlarged to keep the thing contained. Some of the gas had been released as even Patel wouldn't be able to instantly contain an explosion, but it would be easily blown away with fan-like movements from other vectors. All those without the vision of Mu or Aya would only see a large ball of brown gas that would quickly fade to white floating just above Patel's being. All the while it marched forward, enlarging the corridors as it breezed through them with its invisible vectors. This would cause some of the foundation to lose stability and multiple tremors being felt in higher levels. The ball of gas would be suddenly hurled at the direction of the medical ward where the most injured of combatants were still being evacuated but the endless chaos made the progress much slower. If no one were to do anything, everyone in the area would get a nice dosage of Light-made gas in their face.</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya felt his words wash over her as he pondered. "Not everyone's a monster like you," she answered him in an empty voice. That didn't mean people weren't capable of monstrous things, though. Aya thought back to the man she'd killed not too long ago. She thought of all the new graves that would need to be dug because of her weakness. But now wasn't the time to be feeling sorry for herself, not when there was still something she could do. "Where's Avalon?" she asked. Aya didn't know if it was too late to pull Cassandra back from whatever road Sebastian had started on, but she had to try. Didn't she?</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Karen Muller Karen at least liked the speedster. She kissed the vibrating man as best she could. It did not matter at the moment if she had strong feelings for the man but she had feelings for him. He was also able not to have frostbite from contact with her. "Well Road Runner I hope the mint flavored lipstick I put on before I was abducted by these hooligans is still there." She smiled, "But if say I am cold as Ice I will playfully smack. Sing Ice Ice Baby, I'll freeze you solid." She was purring at Ian.</s> <\|message\|>Alto Ganze Ah dammn it. Alto thought, She saw through it already! His act had been rather ineffectual. There hadn't seemed to be anything wrong with it, the girl most definitely didn't know who he was. Maybe she was psychic or something. Either way, he couldn't just drop the act now, even if he didn't actually have any plans for escaping. Also, some time or another he was going to have to reveal himself which would be awkward but those were thoughts for another time. "Of course my lady!" He said, still kneeling. "Knight Dural always has a plan!" He got up a little before continuing. "Please follow me, but at a safe distance. There may be more enemies roaming these halls." With that, he fully stood up and started to walk down the corridor of pods. Hopefully the girl would actually follow. Santa and @NarcissisticPotato if you guys want to meet the rest of the squad</s> <\|message\|>George Maxwell Washington DC As stated earlier, Abu Bakr Al-Baghdadi, as well as many members of the remnants of IS, were Metahumans. Thus, they were also prey to the Alien Abductions, abductions that in turn left the IS-controlled zone shattered, without their leader and prime fighters. George Maxwell, being frustrated in his designs as regards International Cooperation and establishing telepathic contact with the Metas, began to establish plans for the remains of the zone, including Raqqa, which had held out because of Al-Baghdadi's Metahuman Abilities, to be retaken by Iraq, Syria, and the Kurds. If he cannot have his 'World Government', then he was going to destroy IS, once and for all. But it was not just IS he had to deal with; the World Economy would feel the shocks of the Alien Abductions as well, from investor confidence failing, to Metahuman-made gadgets and infrastructure breaking down, and Metahuman businesses and charities trying to function without said Metahumans, with those who did business with those businesses and charities suddenly finding that they could no longer make use of such talent. Right now, such things were distant, very much so, but George knew he had to plan ahead; he had some suggestions to make to anyone who wanted to 'consult' him on the looming financial crisis. Of course, those who would consult him would be doing so in defiance of the President - he hated that woman now! The world was going to pot and she preferred to electioneer? If she dropped dead...no, he was a loyal soul; best not to think about that. Damnit all, he had nothing to do but put out fires, and he was circumscribed on how to do that! Restricted, forbidden! And all because of petty ambition; was Humanity really that dumb? Enough of this. He reviewed the Overdrive Project; Overdrive himself was missing, probably killed in the assault on the New Sun Tower or the assault on the International Heroes HQ. For a moment, he thought of an army of combat robots equal to Metas, all with human conciousnesses transferred to them. Then he dismissed it; it wouldn't work. No plan to defend Earth without Metahumans can work. "Damn them. Damn the Aliens, Damn the President, Damn Abernathy, too, for being the bearer of bad news," George said, his voice heavy with rage as he clenched his fists until they were white. "Damn the lack of good Telepaths on those Alien Ships, Damn the lack of any way to make contact with the Metas, Damn my inability to come up with a good strategy. And finally, Damn me," George finished, tears falling out of his eyes. "Cedric, I failed you, and we failed each other. We failed to pursue the dream of coexistence that we wanted," he was speaking to nowhere now, half-mad. For some brief moments, this madness extended to thoughts of WMDs and coups and wars and even killing off Humanity because it might be better than letting the Aliens victimize them. But George recovered himself, he was not the Secretary of State for nothing! "I am not letting myself get beaten by this. No, I can, and will, reach the abducted Metahumans. I can, and will, ensure a world that is not hostile to them when I secure their return. And I will ensure a future where Humanity can flourish, a future where man, woman, and child will live happily," he spoke to nowhere. <Maxwell Sheppard, if you are there, just know, not everything's going to be bad.></s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Camille & Aya: Reunions (Collab, the usual) Aya, or rather Lynn for Camille, had apparently revealed her powers to a supposed enemy. It didn't really strike Camille as she assumed the little asian girl would actually open up after all Camille had done for them to get out. The child nodded in response to Aya's latest question and marched foward to the darkness that awaited them in the alien ship. Camille kept a steady step despite her condition, an effort keep herself from appearing too weak in a time like this. Aya followed Camille's lead out of the room. The barely-healed cuts on her foot twinged every time they took a step, but she ignored it. The two walked for a time, too focused on their alien surroundings to say anything. The ship seemed… rather normal, actually. Or at least, as normal as a spaceship could be. The technologies and pipes that lined the walls carried an earthen familiarity about them, and Aya wondered at that. Shouldn't it have been… weirder? She glanced around, having Camille stop every now and then so she could use her powers and scope out the area. There was another odd thing about this ship: it seemed deserted. Where were the other captured metas? The aliens? She supposed she really shouldn't have been questioning a good thing as she didn't actually want to run into any, but still. Eventually the silence became too much for her, and she spoke up. "Where is everyone?" Her whisper was defening in the echoing halls. "There should be… something, right? I mean, it's good that we haven't run into any aliens and all that, but we need to find the others." "... Are you really jinxing this? Really?" Camille responded with sass as elegant as Oprah's behind, arms crossed with her patience running thin. She got quickly annoyed over the fact that there was absolutely nothing, a little action wouldn't hurt, but at the same time Aya was right, aliens were not the best things to encounter, ever. Aya did her thing, Camille gathered strengths while waiting, but evidently they were getting nowhere. However, an idea roamed in Camille's mind, but before actually voicing her concern, she scrutinized her surroundings a bit more, more specifically: The walls. Aya noticed Camille had stopped after a few steps and turned back to look at her, a question in her eyes. Camille was standing in the hall, looking very hard at a wall. Aya then wanted to smack herself in the head for not having thought of it earlier. The walls. The others were probably closed off in rooms just like they'd been. "Wait, wait," she said, walking back beside Camille. "Let me just make sure you're not gonna blow a hole in the side of the ship first." Aya jumped to the other side, and looked around a bit. Poking her head through the wall, she was momentarily thrown when her vision was split into two completely different scenes: one side was some storage/electrical room of sorts that Aya couldn't make sense of. But on the other side… "Oh thank god." She pushed her head to the side so a wall was no longer splitting her vision and gave a laugh of relief. Snapping back to her body, Aya looked back at Camille with a smile. "Ok, right here," she said, touching the wall in the correct spot. "Do you have enough in you to break this part?" Cocking an eyebrow, Camille didn't quite get why her partner in arms was so happy about after checking what was on the other side. Well, at least it wouldn't be aliens if she actually desired entry through the wall. Rolling her eyes, Camille almost mocked the final question she was asked, she'd be convinced she was far stronger than any of the looneys she'd meet around here. She approached the wall they were both analyzing and simply poked it. The wall slowly turned to nothingness, portion by portion, the layers of metal fell and revealed a group inside. Camille would be both pleased to see that people were actually here, but burdened with a new set worry as she realized these people would be the least welcoming of all toward her anyway. She took a step back, afraid of the inevitable outcome. Ignoring the pain in her foot (and Camille), Aya hurried through the newly-made door. "Jake!" she called out, beaming. And there was Owlman and some… other person too. Some dark part of her was a tad annoyed to see Owlman alive, but the rest of her was too relieved to worry about that. They'd found someone. zero mc</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Emile King The Zombie --- The Fresh Heralds looks down at their weapons in confusion. They didn't shoot, and they were supposed to shoot, but they weren't functioning. Upon closer inspection, they'd realize their tools had been sabotaged by an unknown assailant that seemed to be some reformist kid talking speeches about things the zombies were practically programmed to disregard. Throwing away their primary weapons, they each drew a pistol, only to have more knives thrown at them. The police officer seemed a lot more agile with a gun, a likely reminiscence of his life before being a Herald and would manage to shoot the knife despite its enhancement, barely deriving it. The other one took it to the should, but almost shrugged it off as he unloaded toward Ian, and consequently, to the panicking people riled up. The masked Heralds took the knives but acted as if they weren't hit at all. Even with damage to the knee, they walked more or less fine. They dropped the bodies they were carrying at the sounds of gunshots, however and simply started jogging toward the panicked masses and in the middle of the roads. It would quickly be revealed that they'd be wearing explosive vests, the kinds prepared specifically for genocides (considering they're likely slow down good infantry). In various corners, they'd quickly detonate themselves no matter the interruption. They had to kill as many as possible like fanatics. The remaining two would do their best to at least handle Ian before the civilian fresh Herald would detonate himself in hopes to take out Ian while the Officer would attempt an escape. The van stocked with a few bodies would of course take off during this entire dramatic scene. --- Nancy always kept a pretty upbeat smile all the time, like a well trained secretary doing her best to handle customer service. However, whenever Sebastian would come in and blather on about his exploit and desires, she'd have the most over-exaggerated frown depicting just how upsetting his monologues could be. Her hand was slowly reaching into one of her drawers, blatantly making it obvious she was reaching out of a weapon as she rattled through the junk in there, taking all his monologue time to actually get what she wanted. Suddenly, she slammed a machete onto her desk, severing her right hand in the process. It already leaked black blood almost everywhere, but she seemed completely unfazed by it. She'd toss the hand on Sebastian's face and revert to her usual smiling stance. "Here you go Sebastian! Yes yes! You definitely know how to spray my blood on them right?!" She he spun on her spinning chair, only noticing now the message sent by Edge through the radio as she was in her little fantasy world of chopping off her own member. She quickly grabbed the mic of said radio and replied. "Y-yes sir! Yes yes I am super duper fine, with all my buddies, thank you! I hope the operation was an absolute success!" She said nervously, he feet sporadically stomping the ground as she replied to the leader. She jumped out of her chair, her arm pissing blood all over the office floor and furniture. She only acknowledged her two buddies from the underground, buddies she sure wished she could blow the guts out off to turn into Heralds of course. Randomly, she froze into position, for absolutely no reason. She was in deep thought, but her posture made her seem like she was frozen in place. She'd let all the events fly by her head, as if she pushed everyone away from her mind before snagging a bag of what seemed to be cheetos on an unopened box near her desk. "Hey! To celebrate, anyone wants to have some good ol' Cheetos?! They're greeeat! I made them myself you know?" She'd open the plastic to let the aroma of the treats invade the near vicinity. Approaching Ellen of all people, she'd wave the sack of cheetos right in front of her face like some kind of leech trying to devour the famous woman's face. Cheetos were just flinging out of the bag and rubbing against her face. It was almost as if she was treating Ellen like some kind of imagined animal she fed, but all the food would drop down. The cheetos were of course, poisoned with a toxin capable of killing pretty much anyone who simply ate one of those. "Mmmmm some good cheetos aye Ellen? Do you like cheetos? Mmmm I love cheetos! C'mon, delicious cheetos..." Though no matter the response, she'd rinse and repeat, next stop was Sebastian and she'd give the same scene she did with Ellen to the psychopath. Hopefully, he'd eat it and fall into cardiac arrest, finally getting rid of his constant monologues. And finally, the giant ugly man she just wished should mutilate and turn into something super awesome like a giant Herold. Her dialogue would change however with Isaac as she had other ideas roaming his mind concerning him. "Isaac! These Cheetos are the best, mmmm! If you eat one I'll fix you up and make you look the way you've always wanted, yes yes!" She said with so much glee, but it'd be almost a known fact that giving one's life in the hands of Nancy would be a death sentence, or at least a forfeit of any freedom they had. Plus her attempts in killing pretty much anyone would be under more blatant forms more often the naught. Her favorite maneuver being to try and shoot someone with a shotgun, missing, and flying backwards with the recoil. Luckily for everyone, she'd be way too much of an incompetent klutz to actually kill anyone. Though, there shouldn't be any confusion, she'll turn anyone into a Herald if given the correct circumstance.</s> <\|message\|>Light After both having no answer from the masked man, the guy running away and Light giving chance, Light saw a large group of the same people running towards the streets. She noticed another reformist there, Ian, who Light hadn't seen in some time having spent a good amount of time overseas. He was also dealing with these masked thugs, and from the looks of the knives on the ground, had tried to attack them but failed as he was attacked by two of them with a third running at him, breaking away from the group that Light was chasing. "Well, if they're going to be openly hostile..." Light said, grabbing a black glob from under her dress. When she let go of the glob, it turned into a shadowy portal which Light entered, popping out between Ian and the charger, punching said charger causing it to explode in her face, turning her black as if she was covered in ash and causing one of her arms to go flying in Ian's direction. "Really? REALLY?" Light said, exhaling a large cloud of smoke as she was momentarily stunned from the explosion, shaking it off after a few moments. Noticing her missing arm was by Ian's feet, she called to him. "Hey Ian, mind giving me my arm? It kinda hurts when your missing a limb." When she was all fixed up, she'd tell Ian that she'd go after the masked Heralds going at the civillians, groaning at having to set off so many explosives in her face.</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya Aya couldn't help but step back again when the stranger (knight? He'd called her 'my lady' four times in the last two minutes, and was wearing a full suit of armor in Los Angeles. He seemed pretty serious about the knight thing.) held up his ands. It was no doubt meant to be a calming gesture, but fear still pumped through her veins like blood. She flinched when he said she was the cause of this. There went her anonymity. But this man seemed… nice? At least, he didn't seem as psychopathic or murderous as Edge, though that wasn't saying much. She'd reacted out of pure fear, but now that she had this moment to take everything in, he seemed ok. Her heart still pounded in her throat, and her ears rang with the sound of gunfire… but sense slowly leaked back to her. Her gaze darted around as he patiently asked his very reasonable questions. Still not looking at him, she finally opened her mouth to answer. "I'm sorry," she blurted out in a rush. Her eyes flicked up to him, gauging his response before quickly darting away again. "I–… I didn't mean to…" She ran a hand through her hair and risked looking up at him again. Goodness, he was tall. "The… constellation you're standing in. That's us – our bodies, I mean. We're still on the street." She looked away to see the shimmering outlines of buildings around them. "That's the salon," she said, gesturing to a shorter cluster of stars, tinted pink, "and that bookstore that only stocks volumes in Russian," she said, pointing at another. Aya pulled her arms around herself, searching for anything to focus on aside from the man she'd revealed herself to. She could still hear the muffled sounds of chaos even from beyond the veil. The situation at the Center for Humans no doubt devolving even more. Whoever this knight was, he was fast and in the few moments he'd had before she'd freaked out on him, he'd carried her almost an entire block away by now. But it likely wouldn't be far enough to escape whatever was going on. Their bodies would be sitting ducks, his shining armor like a beacon. She knew they had to go back. But that meant touching this man and activating her power again. She chewed her lip a moment before drawing out her hand, holding it out. "I can put us back," she said, looking down again. But she made no move to close the distance between them.</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Marcus Collins Marcus leaped from one building to the next at speeds that seemed inhuman as well the fact that he was leaping well over a hundred with every jump. He needed to get to his target as quick as possible before they made his assassination more difficult. This job would see almost a million bucks in his pockets and to make this job even better, the women he was assassinating was a member of the British parliament. He would take great pleasure in putting a bullet in this Brit's brain. His mind for a short moment went back to the memory of his father's murder and his hatred rose up inside of him. "Time to send this buck toothed Bure to God" he said to himself as his target came into a little ways down the street getting a vehicle that was being escorted by several guards. Once in position, Marcus quickly took out his sniper rifle and took aim at the vehicle. For a normal human the shot would have been very difficult, but his incredible senses and his fast thinking brain made the shot more easier. "Goodnight lassie" he said and the pulled the trigger. The bullet flew its course and found its target going right through the skull of the female politician. "Gotcha!" Marcus exclaimed and then made his escape, moving at speeds ten times faster than an athletic human. Now he needed to get away as fast as possible before he would have to fight off the authorities. After he had gotten away and made back to his safe house, Marcus contacted his contractors and received his money for his job well done. Now he was waiting for his next job and even though it didn't really matter to him Marcus still kept up on the situation with humans and metahumans. He had taken jobs for organizations who hired metahuman hit men and they paid handsomely. Maybe sometime soon they would offer him work.</s> <\|message\|>Isaac Grimes Beauty and the Beast: Part Two "Ha!" Ellen blurted with all the sarcasm she could muster. "You think you are just sooo clever trying to analyze people but you are just trying so hard to fill that trope that you have to be some psychotic slag." She sounded irritated but the reality was that Ellen Bowers was cold and heartless at this point. She couldn't give two shits about 'Sebastian the Wannabe Lector', or his attempt at trying to size her up. He didn't know shit about her actual situation, she never told him. He was just pulling shit out of his ass and spewing the same old bullshit that the media liked to say. "Pfft!" Ellen spat with a grin before Sebastian even had a chance to finish. "Oh please, don't give me that bullshit, Sebastian. You can put on this act all you want, but in the end you're just some shithead who jerks it in his own pool of blood. And nothing will ever cha- Ack! God!" Ellen was suddenly interrupted by Nancy's fevered attempts at sloppily waving a bag in front of Ellen's flawless face. She had even forgot Nancy was still in the room with all of Sebastian's attempts at strutting about. With nothing held back for her colleague, Ellen rudely shoved Nancy's little forehead away. "No thanks, loser!" She added with a scowl but that would have been her reaction regardless of the chips being poisoned or not. To Ellen, there was no difference between a oily Cheeto and one laced with Ricin. "Losers! All of you!" She shook her head and threw up her hands, signalling her intent to resign. "I cannot believe I'm stuck here babysitting this lot..." She muttered in resentment as she turned and stormed out into the hallway and around the corner. - Meanwhile, Isaac had been taking it all in. He wasn't much for words but he would never tune out of a conversation. It was actually a scary concept to see the constant bickering among the Underground Members. There was no sense of camaraderie, it seemed, and everyone appeared to be tied together by loose string, all pulling and tugging at them to get free. EDGE, himself, was that string and there was a lot riding on him. It was times like these, and many others by unrelated facts, that made Isaac reconsider his position. The Underground promised results and revenge but it all seemed so volatile. The flips side of that was the Reformist but progress over there seemed so painfully slow and Isaac was in disagreement with their methods. But it seemed a heck of a lot safer. Sebastian's question snapped Isaac back to the conversation. He honestly wasn't ever phased by Sebastian's taunts and always kept a cool head. He had become accustomed to taunts and insults growing up that they never penetrated the skin. In response to Sebastian's offer, Isaac merely shrugged and grunted, not really sure if Sebastian really intended on sparring. It didn't seem like his thing to do. The sound of crinkling soon after his grunt, brought Isaac to the smaller figure in front of him. Nancy was insisting on sharing a snack in a rather gleeful manner. Gently, Isaac grabbed Nancy's cold wrist and lowered. "No thank you, Nancy." He said softly, not even realizing that he had just turned down poisoned puffs and rather said no on his instinct that he 'just wasn't hungry.' Nancy's interruption was rather timely in jogging his memory, however. He had to admit to being really curious about the official response of authorities everywhere. "Hey, Nancy. I don't suppose you know what's happening out there right now?" Isaac asked in politely, finally releasing the girl's hands.</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya Five times, Aya thought to herself as the knight addressed her once again. Shifting uncomfortably, she looked down as he marveled at her power. Sure it was pretty to look at, but what good was it really? Besides, it'd never been something she'd been particularly proud of anyway. She forced herself to breathe as she felt his hand on hers. All she had to do was use her power again, but the thought made her hesitate – the image of her father's face appeared in her mind. His sad eyes as he realized what his daughter was, how he tried to smile through the pain for her, as though making some false reassurance… Aya cut herself off by snapping her and the man back into their bodies. Sensation rushed back into the world, the LA heat, the mass or colors, the sounds of the fight… The sharp metal edges of the knight's armor were once again digging into her skin. There was another man standing behind him, with a hand on the knight's shoulder. Though his voice had been slightly muffled from beyond the veil, it was now clear as day in Aya's still ringing ears. She hurried to climb down from her 'savior's' arms, swaying a bit as her shaky legs struggled to support her, but quickly finding her balance. "Um," she started, "Right, well… thank you." Aya shifted away from him, feeling vulnerable with this man who now knew her secret. She glanced between the two strangers, then back down the block. The commotion was too far away for Aya to make out clearly, but it seemed like fighting was still going on. Something pulled in her to go and… do something. Help. But what was she supposed to do? How could she be expected to keep up with people like Edge, or people carrying guns? Besides, this wasn't her fight. But even as she told herself that, she chewed her lip in uncertainty. Wasn't this her fight? She was a Meta after all, no matter how much she hid it. But no. Aya had no place in fights or politics or any of that. The image of Edge emerging from the building, blood and bodies clearly visible behind him, flashed through her mind and she shuddered. Giving her head a small shake, she turned her attention back to the knight. "I'll just, uh, go then. If you need to… help over there or something, you can go. I'm fine. Thanks. Again." Her cheeks began to color as her stammering went on, and she quickly turned on her heel. She was ready to leave the knight and the bodies behind, and hide in the relative safety of her apartment. Of her normal life. Though it seemed she'd be taking the path through the ghetto home today.</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Cain Cain - Cain Enters the Fray! "You know buddy you're just making this harder on yourself. I don't normally hurt other metas but you are awfully stubborn. How much pain do you think you can really endure?" The man in question was a meta George was his name he was able to control air currents and influence the weather. He was tied to a chair with a broken left hand and dislocated jaw. Cain was smoking as he paced in front of George. "Now buddy, George wasn't it. I just want you to tell me where your wife is. All I'm going to do is go there and kill her, nice and quick no pain at all." Tipping the chair backwards onto the floor he looked at George in the eyes. "Oh sorry I forgot you're probably going to have trouble talking what with the whole mouth thing. But look here is a map of the city, you point to the place and I'll go there kill your wife and then come back set you free. If it turns out you were wrong I'll back here and see if I can't jog your memory with the same techniques that I've been using these past four hours." To address his point he ground his foot on George's left hand. George's reply was a groan in pain, he had lost the energy to scream after Cain had infected him with his own blood. His ability was eating away at George's cells, a broken hand and a dislocated jaw were the least of his worries as his body was being destroyed from the inside. Cain lifted the chair back upright placing the map in George's lap and untying his right hand. George looked at the map then back up at Cain a defiant look in his eyes. "So still gunna play that game? No matter I'm sure my gift to you will finish you off in a day. But until then we can enjoy ourselves. Right?" Cain had walked away from George to the table he had set up, on it were a selection of tool you might find in a tool kit. Picking up the pliers he turned round to George. "Let's see if we can't clip away that stubbornness of yours." As he walked over to Cain the wall where he had placed his tool blew inwards, standing there was his George's wife Hollie a meta blessed with super strength. "Well hello there Hollie just the woman i was looki-" Cain didn't finish what he was saying as Hollie had pounced onto him and clothes-lined him into the wall behind him. The wall cracked from the force. Cain struggle to stand several of his ribs were broken and his lungs were punctured. His ability quickly began to heal him but Hollie gave him no time to catch his breath uppercutting him and then side kicking him in the kidneys. Coughing up blood he staggered up. Hollie looked at Cain anger in her eyes. "You're a monster Cain, preying on people like me and my husband you make me sick!" Hollie Grabbed Cain's head and pounded it into the ground, the concrete that made up the floor cracking with the force. Hollie released Cain's head. Cain hadn't planned to fight this woman on even grounds and now he was paying for it. Hollie left Cain on the floor untying her husband. Cain's body quickly stitched itself back together faster then Hollie thought was possible for him. She was holding George in her arms giving Cain the advantage as he stood up. "Bad move sister, you have a choice; Drop your husband and I kill him or run away with your husband and I kill you both." Hollie jolted through the hole she had made and began to run away from him. Cain shook his head sadly, his feet became elongated and cheetah like allowing him to move faster then even an Olympic athlete. Chasing after Hollie and George, super strength is good but she wasn't super fast. He easily caught up to her his right arm became elongated and blade like bending backwards he zoomed past her his arm snapping forwards with enough force to crush concrete. He skidded to a halt in front of her. Turning around his body returned to normal as Hollies head fell at her feet. George fell with her he had missed Cain's blade by inches. Looking down at Hollie and George he smiled. "Sorry George buddy it's nothing personal, your wife has caused problems for my employer and now well. She wont be causing problems for anyone. I'll do you a solid though." Cain grabbed George's broken hand and removed Cain's cells from George's body. "Now you should survive and live to fight another day. I do like it when people are out to get me, keeps me on my toes." Cain called the hospital telling them George's location. Tipping his imaginary hat to George who had fallen unconscious from shock he turned and left. Leaving the area he phoned his employer who told him where the dead drop for the money was. Smiling he found the dead drop and collected his money. Turning around he heard the sound of a rifle bolt clicking. He reacted to late as his body was peppered with bullets from the fully automatic Assault Rifle. Looking at his chest he saw blood pouring from the holes made by the bullets. Falling to the floor he looked up, seeing the determined look on his assailants face he memorized it as he fell unconscious.</s> <\|message\|>Sam King Pixel The ghost gave cries of frustration when Alex avoided them and went through a door that was too small for them to pass through and Pac-man had been knocked off course and wasn't able to devour Acacia before her brother rescued her. Sam cursed in frustration and made both the ghosts and Pac-man disappear. He then created a man-size version of Mario from the Donkey Kong arcade game that was wielding the hammer power-up. "Go get those scumbags and give them a taste of old-school gaming!" he commanded the pixel plumber and Mario chased after the two metas with great speed swinging his hammer up and down continuously just like in the arcade game. Sam then created a pixel sword and followed after his creation. He wasn't going to let them get away, he had something to prove to himself and the others. He was going to be a real hero and save lives. Sam decided to stay close by Lizzie and Lucas in case the two enemy metas had something up their sleeves. Mario was gaining on Alex and Acacia and unless they took evasive actions or defended themselves then otherwise they would get horribly whacked by the old arcade game character's hammer. Bee@NarcissisticPotato</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya The force of the collision sent Aya tumbling a few feet back, falling to the ground. She heard a grunt and a clatter, no doubt coming from whomever she'd run into. Catching herself on her hand before her head could hit the ground, she was instead treated to a flash of pain shooting from her thumb and up to her shoulder that threatened to bring tears to her eyes. She opened her eyes to inspect the damage, but before she could look down, bright red captured her attention. A man, one of the tallest she'd ever seen, and wearing a bizarre glowing mask was sprawled in front of her. A woman looking worse for wear was next to him. Both had crimson hair, the brightest she'd ever seen. Aya and the man looked at each other for a moment, as though still trying to process that they'd just knocked each other to the floor. It was then the sound of footsteps crashing down the hallway that made them finally break eye-contact. Aya looked up to see a very colorful and irritated girl – one of the Reformists she remembered standing beside the mayor – come charging towards them. Right behind her was… Mario? Aya looked back at the red headed man in confusion when realization slammed into her: he was part of the Underground. He and this woman were the ones causing havoc. She remembered a flash of red on the corner of the screen before the smoke bomb went off. Then a glint of silver lying on the floor caught her attention, and her eyes fell on a gun. A gun, two Undergrounders, an anthropomorphic rainbow, and Mario the plumber. It was then that Aya began seriously questioning the choices in her life that had lead her to this moment. But then reality snapped her back she saw everyone prepared for a brawl in the middle of the hallway. Aya's body reacted without her telling it to, and in the next instant she'd scrambled forward, ignoring her throbbing hand, and grabbed the two redheads by the naked skin of their wrists. There was a flash of instinct coiled inside her, some unknown reflex that snapped at her just before she pulled the two with her to the astral plane. Don't. When she opened her eyes to see the constellations that made up her world, she understood. Aya had only brought other people to the astral plane twice before: her father, and the knight from the massacre. Both times, the men had more or less retained their physical appearances, though her dad's soul had looked healthier than his body. She supposed the Undergrounders looked roughly the same too, but there was something fundamentally wrong with how their souls had manifested. The man was darker, more sinister, as though he was merely the shadow his body cast. The lines of his body were hazy, plumes of thick smoke – or floating, moving clouds of sand – flowing to make his form, like some sort of solid cloud. His image rippled, multiple currents fighting for domination. They ebbed and flowed back and forth, almost completely consuming each other, but in the next moment, the currents would push back the other way. Tendrils of mist floated away from his body, escaping the battle only to dissolve the moment the connection broke. The woman was completely drained of color. She ranged from a pearly grey to a deep smoke color, and seemed fragile as rice paper, as though a single touch could shatter her image, revealing it for the illusion it was. The only color on her body was a series of crimson runes seared into the skin of her wrists, ankles, and neck, like chains shackling a prisoner. Something between a gasp and a scream escaped her as she tried to scramble back from the two. There was something dark and tainted about them, and if Aya's instincts had snapped at her before, they were all but screaming at her now. This was wrong. She needed to get away from them. She needed to scrub her skin raw and red if it meant getting clean of them. "What," Aya whispered, almost to herself, "did you do…"</s>
<\|description\|>Solf Patel Alias(s): 'The Boogieman' 'The Strongest Meta' 'The Lancaster Monster' Age: Between 23 and 37 Affiliations: Corporate Factions: The Underground Organization Description: Solf is always seen wearing a hood over its head, keeping its face in complete darkness and only allowing its red glowing eyes to glimmer within the abyss. The clothes it is wearing varies but it usually wears all white with barely visible clothes behind the cloth. It can be seen that it has a normal left arm that doesn't appear to show any deformity, but it always shown to be wearing a long, gray glove extending to its elbow. The rest of the arm being covered in its turn by a white shirt. It also wears white boots. Its powers allow it to never have its hood to fall eve by the most violent of shocks. Powers: Submitted to God To reach such a level of power and spreading fear to all officials in the world, Solf's abilities are bound to be of a monstrous gravity. Solf's abilities rest on a very simple activation: Its voice. It does not matter whether it is heard, understood or even possible in certain fields, all it needs to do it talk in unintelligible speech in order to activate its abilities. When done normally, everyone in a certain distance from it can hear its chatter as if it were ominous whispers breathed directly into their ears. The louder it speaks, however, the greater the intensity of the ability. Apoptosis: Solf's most recognizable ability as it has caused countless deaths in both humans and Metas alike. This ability is capable of interacting with living beings, unlike Recall, and manifests itself as six transparent, almost invisible arms that are slightly thicker than the average, all link to its body. They are only manifested through certain chants. They can be compared, heck they're almost identical to Elfen Lied's Vectors. Depending on the speech's length and intensity, the vectors can stretch to an undefined distance. Once they get into contact with a victim, one alone can easily overpower a member and ultimately crush it either by bending it or squeezing it. Hitting them only causes them to stop for a few seconds before they try to grab their victim once more. A proof of its power: A bulky fighter with the ability to harden can avoid having his arm ripped, crushed or contorted through sheer force. However, by either screaming or chanting certain words that release a higher amount of power (in both cases, gray smokes spews out of the hood), the arm can be easily toyed with. Recall: This power is pretty much everything Apoptosis cannot do and vice-versa. Why? Unlike Apoptosis, it cannot affect the composure and body of a living being nor grab anything they could be wearing (weapons are different). Vectors are manifested, by are completely invisible due to the weaker amount of power invested in them, in exchange they can only interact with inanimate objects, whether it is to contort them, crush them, lift them, anything one could imagine. The arm vectors are also capable of changing sized and spreading much faster into long distances through basic chant. The biggest Solf can perform is completely contorting and distort a block of giant buildings in one minute through endless blather of gibberish. As much as they are harmless to living beings, the effects on anything around them may as well make Recall just as lethal as Apoptosis. Cannot be used in tandem with Apoptosis. God's Will: Solf's body holds a huge amount of secrets, one being that its eyes are barely proof of its sight. In reality, it is capable of using a form of sense that enables near 360 degree vision (it can't focus on the whole circle but it can react to any movement). This makes it particularly difficult to reach it and hit it correctly. Weaknesses: Solf is unable to run, dodge, fly or perform any kind of relevant melee move. It simply walks and destroys whatever is in its path. Whenever it chants, it requires about two or three seconds for it to amplify the effects of its power, giving easy openings. Its mental health is pretty bad too, making it simple in its actions and only doing tactics if explained and given the order to do so. Skills: -No reaction to pain -The heart and the brain seem to be the only vital spots that matter -Acute reflexes Equipment: N/A Ranking: SS - Let's be real here. It's an NPC submitted to GM control. Brief History: Little is known about Solf, not even its gender is truly known by officials. It is said that it was one of Isabella's experiments on making Meta's transcend their current powers, just as the US Government did. Solf was the only "success" in this procedure, effectively making it the strongest renown Meta on the planet. The price would be, however, complete disfigurement. It is currently known as an abomination by the select few who saw the results of the experiment.</s> <\|message\|>Jake Monsters When the blood pierced his muzzle, Jake tried to yelp in pain but no sound came out. He hated this man. He wanted him dead. He wanted to kill him. Sebastian tossed the dog aside and Jake hit the ground hard but ignored the pain, trying frantically to get the blasted blood muzzle off of his face. He heard the maniac talk with Aya but he didn't pay attention to what was being said. He was too angry to listen. He continued to paw at the blood over his mouth as more blood tendrils approached him. When he noticed them he jumped into an attack posture, even though there was little he could do to them without his mouth beside growl. But then there was nothing to be done. He heard a dull thud from nearby and then the blood dropped to the ground. Finally free of the horrific restraint, Jake turned to see both Aya and Sebastian drop too. He had seen Aya use her power enough now to know what was going on. She had taken Sebastian to the astral plane. He couldn't decide if that was clever or stupid. Mouth finally healing, he made his way quickly to Aya's side and sniffed at her to see if there was any sign of her waking. She didn't move though and Jake shifted his attention back to Sebastian, growling through his teeth at him. He too was unconscious. This was Jake's chance. He was going to kill the creep. It was nothing less than he deserved. Nothing less than he had given to everyone else here. He stepped over to the seemingly lifeless Sebastian and stomped his forepaws down on the killers chest. There was enough force behind the blow to leave a bruise and maybe even deeper damage. But that wouldn't matter. He was going to be dead in a second anyway. With another deep growl, Jake looked down at Sebastian, ready to tear into his throat and and his miserable life...But then something caught his eye. Jake looked up to see a young girl standing about 50 feet away. She couldn't have been more than five or six years old and clearly a meta if the scales on her forehead and neck were any indication. Jake had met this girl before, although he failed to remember her name. She had been laughing. Smiling...And now she stood, surrounded by death. The expression on the girls face was one of pure horror. Eyes wide and jaw slack. Tears rolled down her face though she had been stunned into silence by the events that had just transpired. Jake couldn't blame her. Sebastian had...Wait...She wasn't looking at Sebastian. She was looking Jake dead in the eye. Jake suddenly realised what he must have looked like to this girl. A snarling, rage filled beast covered in blood and burns, about to kill a defenceless man...A monster. Was that what he was? Was that what this girl saw him as? He didn't want that. He didn't want this girl to be afraid of him. There were plenty of real monsters around here for her to be afraid of. He didn't want to be one of them. His head was swimming now and his heart pounding. He didn't want to be a monster. -0h</s> <\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Though beautiful, the astral plane did little to mask the carnage around her. There was no more iron in the air to make Aya gag, but all around she could see the mangled, half-dissolved bodies. She'd done this. Sebastian may have been a murderer, but who had let him live? Who'd let him remain a threat to everyone in the city? All this death could've been avoided if Aya'd just done the responsible thing when she should've and left him to die. If she'd just done the right thing then… Aya drifted to the bodies, too weighed down by her guilt to bother moving her legs as she normally did. But then something caught her eye. One of the bodies glittered slightly, and then a starry mist raised from it and dissipated. The soul, she realized with a start. She'd just witnessed someone dying. She looked around again and found another body beginning to glow and darted over, leaning close to it. She watched as the glow grew and the mist began to rise. Captivated, Aya reached out a hand, and the soul drifted through her feelings. Flashes of emotion shot through her – pain, sorrow, acceptance… for a single moment she was part of that soul. And then it drifted away just like the one before. A shiver ran through her, feeling that she'd just invaded on something terribly intimate. Hearing Sebastian's voice, she looked over to find him sitting down, accepting whatever fate would come to him. He was so calm… how could he be so calm after killing so many? Aya just stared at him, trying to understand. She had no reason to fear him here, but he still set her skin prickling. The adrenalin fading out of her system, she couldn't bring herself to feel the rage she'd felt before. "Tell me where Cassandra is," she finally managed to say.</s> <\|message\|>Ian Sebastian "She's at some old base, Avalon or some such nonsense, that the Underground movement has taken over as their own. It's not like I could very well bring her here, she has no way of fighting effectively. While my care for her life is low, it doesn't mean I'd throw it away by bringing her here." Sebastian repined as he watched the Aya's mutt come close to his body, looking as if he was about to tear his throat out. And yet, the beast stopped, for whatever reason Sebastian couldn't understand. So he'd live a while longer before he went to hell, or into nothingness if their was no such thing as an afterlife. Turning to look around, he saw the saw strange stardust that Aya had seen rising from a body next to him. Curious, he stretched his hand into it, and he'd feel similar emotions as Aya had. He'd feel the pain, so agonizing that it made him want to wretch, the sorrow that came with knowing that you were going to die, and the acceptance that came after it. Wriggling his fingers, he couldn't help but chuckle a little. "You really have a marvelous ability, Lynn, truly magnificent. Truly enviable, the ability to feel one's soul as they pass on. Truly an interesting experience. . . that is all I've deer wanted, for life to be interesting and fun. Just so happens that my definitions of fun differ from the norm, from what people find acceptable." Sebastian gave another look at Jake, still quite puzzled by the dog's actions. "Do you have any idea why your pet didn't rip my throat out? There is nothing to stop him, he had every right, and yet he stopped himself from taking his rightly earned vengeance. I'd call it stupidity, but then I'd be looking the gift horse in the mouth. . . .I guess by questioning it, I already am, aren't I?" -0h</s>	<\|message\|>Solf Patel The Walk of God - Part 4 Mu's final endeavor before leaving appeared to be quite futile as the vector coming out behind Patel subsided upon meeting up with its creator. As a matter of fact, the transparent vectors had all vanished the instant Patel's previous target started to flesh for some strange reason. All of a sudden, a beam of energy was shot, but the starting flash was enough for Patel's abnormal way of sensing things to react. "..." An armored body of a security guard a meter away from Patel would be grabbed after the quick whisper and whipped in the middle of the beam's trajectory. Patel only proceeded that way because it could only guess by the feel of the armor that it was meant to resist, effectively deflecting the beam while leaving the majority of the body burned. Then came Light who had regenerated from everything. Solf could finally recognize the individual known as the Reformists' trump card, the living cartoon that didn't fear death for a second. Lancaster and Camille had warned the entire team of her potential, and even though Patel's mind would be too damaged to make effective use of the intel, it knew she was the number one threat. Even though Patel continued a perfectly linear walk without a single interruption, it kept its focus on Light rather than anything else. It noticed a new tool being used, a bottle filled with liquid. In Solf's simple mind, it would be weapon, meaning it would represent a danger. It would make that deduction even with a small candycane. "...Ru ..." A stronger sound came out of Patel's being, this one barely echoing but ringing strongly in the ears of those in the room (and the rooms nearby with the walls are torn apart). The second later, a portal opened up in front of it, catching it somewhat by surprise, as it was ready to explode with the many factors verified by Light for a good combustion. However, in reaction to Patel upping its game with the sight of Light's threatening body language, it had easily caught the bottle as it would explode with one of its invisible hand (because the vile wasn't organic) and had the vector purposely enlarged to keep the thing contained. Some of the gas had been released as even Patel wouldn't be able to instantly contain an explosion, but it would be easily blown away with fan-like movements from other vectors. All those without the vision of Mu or Aya would only see a large ball of brown gas that would quickly fade to white floating just above Patel's being. All the while it marched forward, enlarging the corridors as it breezed through them with its invisible vectors. This would cause some of the foundation to lose stability and multiple tremors being felt in higher levels. The ball of gas would be suddenly hurled at the direction of the medical ward where the most injured of combatants were still being evacuated but the endless chaos made the progress much slower. If no one were to do anything, everyone in the area would get a nice dosage of Light-made gas in their face.</s>
<\|description\|>Aiko Fujiwara Alias(s): Age: 12 Affiliations: Description: Powers:Memory Leech: Unlike many mind-readers, Aiko's ability to steal and view the memories of others is nearly impossible to stop. With many mind-readers, they use spiritual powers that allow them to gain a temporary access to the others' beings and then peek into their memories. This can be stopped with technology that has been in development for an awfully long time and even some powers permit a blocking of mind-reading. Aiko's ability is radically different but far superior. Instead of trying to coax out memories from their being, she easily gains access to their very mind and withdraws memories. This allows her to view someone's life placed in front of her without a single filter. On more than one occasion, she was even able to trace the life of cells in a body to the conception of that person, which was strange as she saw everything from conception to the modern day. So, theoretically, Aiko can access the memories of anyone with a functioning brain and the ability to store memories. The ability itself is immensely powerful considering there is nothing that can really stop her apart from simply killing her. Nevertheless, this is actually a viable method as the young girl has no offensive nor defensive abilities that could keep her safe. Far Sight: Reading someone's memory is an easy enough feat for the young powerhouse. The actual difficulty in her powers lie in her ability to see forward into the future and ultimately discern prophecies from distinct probabilities and improbabilities. She herself doesn't even know how the process works but she does know that her consciousness is scattered to the aether, to a higher dimension that allows her to view time as if it was a canvas laid out before her eyes much like viewing the memories of people. Nevertheless, she can see things that she should never be able to see. This could equally be described as a curse, however, as the young girl has seen her own life and everything that will happen to her. Of course, she sees things the way fate intends for them to go. The fates' design could prove to be inconsequential and one, given enough willpower, could go against their own plan. Aiko can see a diverging in the fates' plan when it happens and can quickly receive newer visions of what will happen due to it. Skills: Skills she can acquire from her powers. (see above) Knitting, top scores in Facebook game Farmville. Equipment: Cell phone, a stuffed cat. Ranking: SS (Optional) Brief History: She is one of the most powerful metas on the planet her powers have made it required she is observed from a distance. She hailed from Sendai but now is with our heroes at "the Beach"</s> <\|message\|>Marcus Collins Green Bullet Marcus watched as a newsflash came onto the tv screen in his safe house and the headlines massacre scrolled across in red letters. He recognized the area to be somewhere in LA and now he realized why there didn't seem to be as much police activity on the look out for the assassin that killed a politician. This massacre was a crime involving metahumans and anti metahuman protestors. His assassination work would most likely just be blamed on a normal human killer and not have any relations to metahumans. This incident made him curious and Marcus decided to go and investigate the crime scene and get some idea of the players involved in this game kill humans or metahumans, this might mean more money for him. He left the safe house and jumped up the roof of a nearby building. Moving as fast as his superhuman legs could carry him Marcus leaped from one building to the next until his vision spotted the crime scene. He got as close as could without being noticed and even from a distance he could see the blood of those slaughtered. It was almost like a scene from a movie with brutal the killings looked and he had seen his fair share of brutality. "By God's fury, now there's some innocent bloodshed that I've not seen in a long time" he said to himself, the reformists were already on the scene and he wondered how they would respond with this attack by the Underground. I didn't need to take sides immediately, he would watch and wait to see who would pay him the most for his services. Normally the group most desperate were the ones who reached deeper into their pockets for help. Pixel Pixel was riding on top of a flying saucer made of pixels that he created and while on his rounds above LA he noticed the crowds of people gathered at the crime scene were humans had been killed by the Underground movement. Some people looked on with awe and some with anger as he landed his pixel creation on the ground not too far away from the scene of the massacre and made the craft disappear. "My God, what happened here?" he asked himself as he created two pac-man ghosts, which went to have a look since they could fly and get over the blockade. "It looks like somebody slaughtered the people at the LA Center for Humans" one of the ghosts replied as they returned to him. Sam didn't have much kindness towards the group, but no amount verbal hate would warrent such a massacre and he felt angered at the culprits who did this. He clenched his fist in anger. "The savage idiots who did this are trying to ruin the peace that humans and metahumans are trying to maintain with each other. I can't wait to get my hands on the bastard that did this and make him pay and face proper justice" he said angrily to his pixel creations. "You humans sure do have problems accepting each other, we ghost all agree and work together for one thing, which is catch Pac-man" the other ghost replied.</s> <\|message\|>Light "Ok, I've got it." Light said, reattaching her arm, waving to Ian as she made her way to the downed officer, dislocating his arms while she also slashed at the bomb vest to get it off of him, storing what bits she got off inside her pocket space. the Officer tried to fight her off, but it didn't amount to much without working arms. Not feeling threatened much at all as a few other metas nearby were dealing with the other explosive jacket guys, Light took a casual look over the battlefield. A meta in armor was carrying some girl who he had just saved or rescued or whatever, Ian was dealing with his things, and another meta was protecting the crowd of people who Light was surprised got anywhere near this place. Still, the dead bodies were not a pleasant sight, and she guessed that she was called back to LA to deal with whoever was doing these terrorist attacks on the people. "Hey Ian, whenever everything settles down, we should catch up." Light said, tying the officer up with his own shirt. She looked at the armored meta and the girl in his arms and called out to them with a hello. -0h</s>	<\|message\|>Aiko Fujiwara "Lucas!" shouted out a voice from the nearby corridor, "don't scare the little girl!" And with that, a sixteen-year old young woman, with dyed-rainbow hair and wearing a T-Shirt and short shorts that left little to the imagination, ran to just beside the taller man. "I mean, seriously, don't be so miffed you didn't get a position you didn't deserve, anyway, Scrappy-Doo! Fact is, I'm interested in space, you're interested in space, but you're turning 'being interested in space' into a life-and-death matter!" Lizzie - for that was who the girl was, put her hands on her hips. "Liz," said Lucas, "I don't like being ridiculed, simple as that. Ian and Sable can believe whatever they want; their beliefs are just...well, how do I put it, too mundane. We need to focus Sapientkind's attention on what's up there, the stars, so that we would be able to channel our energies peacefully, or at least, sort of peacefully. And I am not about to work just to make others realize what should be...So. Fucking. Obvious." "It's my way or no way, and Ian and Sable have chosen no way." Lizzie rolled her eyes, then turned towards Aiko, holding out a bag of dried apple pieces. "Here, a gift," she said. "Thanks." Aiko replied. "I still can't tell him what he wants to know." she rplied to the younger of the two. "That's okay," Lizzie was smiling. "You don't have to answer him. Anyway, let's go to the Entertainment Room; watch some Star Wars. Or would you prefer a rom-com?" "I'll follow you guys," said Lucas, "I've got nothing better to do except lose to Edge. I mean, seriously, I only have hydrokinesis, and while conjuring up and controlling water is powerful to you, it's still not enough, still not enough to fix the world." "You cannot fix the world without hard work, just saying, nor can you fix the world without relying on somebody else at one point," Lizzie was already walking Aiko towards the entertainment room. "Well, too bad," Lucas was about to admit his true feelings. "I'm too jealous of Ian - he has everything - while I have nothing at all." "Didn't your profile say that you were kind, idealistic, and compassionate?" Lizzie had almost reached the entertainment room, "well I'm not seeing any of that." "Well, it's because I just realized I wasn't powerful enough to change the world, and no one is willing to lend me their power without caveats - I mean, seriously, I have a grand vision - get humanity to Space. People should be flocking to follow me on the strength of that vision alone -" "TSUNDERE KICK!" shouted Lizzie in allcaps, kicking Lucas in the stomach, but not using her super strength. Lucas staggered back, and said: "Sorry for being delusional by all objective standards. It's just that I've been drinking a lot lately and -" "Enough excuses, we're here," Lizzie said as they arrived in the entertainment room. "So," she turned to Aiko again, "want Star Wars, or a Rom Com?" "Star Wars, but episode 4." replied Aiko. She wanted pizza. "I can make Lucas forget about his desire to beat Edge." She smirked. "I want a pizza," Aiko wanted Pizza and did the sad eyes. "All right," said Lizzie. "Hey, Lukie!" she looked at Lucas, "get us some pizza; Four Cheeses!" With a frown, Lucas went off, and a few minutes later, just as the movie was starting, returned with a Pizza. "Well can I at least get a soda as well?" asked Aiko. Lucas frowned, and, after setting the pizza down, went back, and got three sodas. The three would then keep watching the movie, until Lizzie said something: "Hey," she said to Aiko, "I know I shouldn't mix business with pleasure, or pleasure with business, but what do you think of this?" The sixteen year-old then showed her iPad to Aiko, showing her the picture of a boy, also sixteen, with black hair and blue eyes and a sorrowful look. "Doesn't he look hot? Read the documentation that comes after the picture; it tells his story." Yes, Lizzie was talking about Jackson. Now Lucas felt he was justified in rolling his eyes. "Listen, I don't share my Church's view on Premarital Sex - it is, after all, the same Church that proclaims Reason and Faith as two sides of the same coin, yet condemned Galileo - but can you not lust after the bad boys? That kid's bad business, or at least two of his personalities are." Lucas did care for Lizzie, after all. Then he faced Aiko. "Hey, if you cannot tell my future, can you at least warn Liz' about how her getting boy-crazy will lead to her death?" "He looks cute but he seems a little mopey. I'd rather have a happier person. Not too happy just a person that gets cranky and actually can be happy." Aiko bit into her pizza. She did the inward blow as she cooled the hot cheese. Aiko did not want to ask about relationships it was not something she was fond of. "Anyways lets watch this movie!" replied Aiko. They were at the scene where Luke was dreaming about going off to explore the great wide galaxy, with Lizzie saying: "So, Aiko, happier now?" "Yes, but lets not talk about it." Aiko was watching the movie.</s>
<\|description\|>Alex Trebons Alias(s): Paladin, The Paladin Age: 24 Affiliations: Heroes. Factions: Independent. Description: Alex is an unassuming, somewhat scholarly looking young man. He works in a museum and looks the part, with somewhat messy brown hair, thick glasses, and a generally mousy demeanor. He bears himself in a way that seems to take a foot off his height and most of the broadness from his shoulders - he is, in general, a man nobody would think twice about. The Paladin persona, however, is nothing of the sort. The Paladin is a towering figure, clad from head to toe in steel armor that looks straight out of the Middle Ages. He tries to present himself as a larger-than-life ideal heroic figure, with varying success - to some, he may seem an angel, a mighty savior descended from on high to deliver the innocent. To others more accustomed to the world of the Gifted, he... may just seem like a dorky, old-fashioned weirdo. What's certain about him is that there seems to be no darkness in the man whatsoever. He is a tireless optimist, an incorrigible idealist, and an absolute puppy dog of a human being. He has yet to affiliate himself with the politics of his world, preferring to help out where he can as a 'small steps' sort of hero. Powers: Alex possesses, in addition to increased durability, strength and speed (think Captain America rather than Hulk or Thor), primarily photokinetic abilities - he has the power to manipulate and control light, even being able to create 'hard light' tools and objects. He mainly uses this to make glowing swords or shields out of pure light, being a stickler for his theme. He is also capable of producing light, being able to make his body 'glow' - this, however, tends to tire him out very quickly, leading to his powers being much less effective in a no-light environment. A side-effect of his light generation is that his body also tends to produce an immense amount of heat while he does so. He is able to survive this, being largely resistant to the effects of heat (though very vulnerable to cold temperatures), but anything else touching him when he gets warmed up may as well have touched the inside of an oven. Skills: He's not the most talented Gifted around, though he's put a lot of hours into practicing with his hard light weapons and so has become a capable combatant with those. Otherwise, he has little in the way of relevant talents - he's a History Major, in case that ever comes up. Oh, he's also a decent cook, should that matter. Equipment: His suit of armor is the only notable piece of equipment he owns - it's made of an alloy he doesn't fully understand that possesses both physical durability as well as confusing, sciency photon-storage properties. The upshot of all this is that it's a full body suit of armor that provides reasonable protection and glows when he pours light into it. It's pretty heavy though, so even in spite of his increased strength, his movements when inside it can be... awkward. The armor is his most prized possession, and he treasures it highly. Ranking: Upper B Rank. (Optional) Brief History: Alex was a normal boy with superpowers trying to get by in a world getting weirder every day. For most of his life, he hid what he was, hoping only that he wouldn't be noticed. That changed one night two years ago, when he met an older, technologically gifted Meta who was impressed by his character and convinced him to take a more active role in the world. Thus, The Paladin was born, with the help of a suit of armor crafted for him by his mentor, and the new knight began his daylight patrol of city streets and dark alleyways, seeking to spread light and hope wherever he was able.</s> <\|message\|>Fletcher Parkmen Fletcher woke with a jolt sweat dripping down his forehead, sitting up he rubbed his forehead looking at his damp hands another nightmare. He had been plagued by these nightmares. He could never remember what they were about, he just knew that every night he dreaded closing eyes and going to sleep. Whatever these nightmares were about they sure as hell scared him. Jumping out of bed he rubbed his mustache as he looked at himself in the full length mirror that made up the doors to his walk-in wardrobe. These nightmares were troubling but he had other things on his mind. Leaving the room he made himself breakfast and teleported to the local store to buy a newspaper. Teleporting back just as his toast popped out of the toaster he started spreading butter as he read the paper. The main story was about a terrorist attack on LA Center for non-metas. Fletcher dropped the toast, he had to report this! Teleporting into his room he threw open his wardrobe and got dressed as fast as he could. Grabbing his jacket and reporting things he teleported to LA into an alleyway. Smiling he tapped his head, he had forgotten his hat. Teleporting back to his home in Washington he grabbed his hat of his coat rack and then returned to LA. "Much better" He said to himself. Stepping out of the alleyway he began to do his thing, gathering information from the locals he began snooping around the scene and more importantly the police. The "Terrorists" were part of the group called the Underground movement. He had heard that name before, but only as a rumor. From what he had gathered they were a group of meta's who had no problems using violence to get their point across. The thought made his blood boil, he was a meta and to have this group essentially representing him and painting all meta's in such a bad light was infuriating. Looking at the sky he saw it was getting dark, snapping his notebook shut he would write up the story later. He wanted to look one more time around the city. However it didn't take long for LA's night to start with a bang. He heard the scream of a woman coming from the right of him, teleporting back to Washington he telported into his costume and telported straight back to LA around the area of the scream. He found the source quickly blood bodies and a man splattered in blood emerging from the building. "Jesus Christ!" Fletcher had seen his fair share of blood and bodies in England but this was ridiculous. Then the fighting began a Meta wearing armour and some other reformist leader appeared. Both attacking the other people who followed the trench coat man out of the building. "what are you doing don't you realize that you're just painting us Meta's in a bad light. Are you just stupid?! How does that." He pointed at the open doors. "Prove anything except that none of us are capable of reasonable thinking?!" He saw the reformist offer the man in armour a box. He accepted the box of sweets and nodded. "I will get the civilian to safety, then return to cover you. Should you have any need of direct assistance, do call for me, and I will come as quickly as I am able." Holding the box under his arm and probably crushing most of the goodies within, the Paladin took off running towards the woman - more of a girl, really, getting closer to her. "Apologies, my lady, but the hour is much too desperate for chivalry!" he shouted out as he grabbed at her and kept running, already forming a thick bubble of hard light to protect his passenger from harm. "Hey Holy Knight? I'm a Teleporter need a hand getting these people out of harms way? Or you Reformist man? You need a hand either or should I consider you an enemy?!" Fletcher may be a hero but he wasn't going to make a move until they said something. This reformist fella could hurt someone if he wasn't careful then he would be an enemy. A simple 20'000 foot drop would finish him. This Paladin guy though he defiantly seemed a good guy.</s> <\|message\|>Ian Sebastian Lyone Not long after Nancy made contact with Edge, a scream full of agony and despair tore through the base, likely interrupting the woman's response to the movement's leader. These would continue for a short while longer before stopping with a sudden quickness. Something that anyone who had been apart of the movement for any length of time would find odd. The screaming usually went on for at least an hour, usually more. The sound of a door slamming open was the next sudden sound to come, followed by a set of harsh footsteps coming from down the way. It wasn't long before a young man walked into Nancy's office, and with him came the heavy metallic smell of blood, a surer sign than the screaming that he had been enjoying his hobbies again. If Nancy looked up from her computer at the man, she would notice something else strange about him, his lack of a smile. He was usually always smiling, no matter what horrible, depraved deed he was taking part in, but right now his face was set in a rather childish pout. One that really didn't fit this man if you knew him well enough. "I've got a new body for you, Nancy," Sebastian said rather disinterestedly as he sat down somewhere in the room that seemed relatively stable. "Oh, and you know that cliche in movies where the psychopath tortures people while quoting literature and scripture, well I tried it with this one, but it was beyond dull and really distracted me from the fun of the work. The guy might have a big gaping hole in his chest from when I decided to just call the quits, but I doubt that matters much anyway. Everything important to his movement and motor skills is mostly undamaged." Letting out a sigh, the psychopathic haemokinetic sadist began to fiddle with his red hair, looking down at his blood-stained clothes. He made a single motion with his hand and the blood rose off from his clothes, a white long-sleeved T-shirt, black jeans, and a pair of loose fitting sandals. His bright green eyes looked around the messy office, the blood forming a small sphere in his hands that he began to twist and turn into various geometric shapes. "Nancy, do you have any minions to spare, cause I need to beat the crap out of something and watch it bleed, even if it is the weird black gunk that they have, or maybe I can play with Issac again, that's always fun to do." Sebastian snickered to himself a little, cheering up at the thought of kicking the crap out of the mutated Meta. Tearing zombies to pieces was fun, but they didn't feel any pain, which took quite a bit of the fun out of the activity for him. Getting back on to his feet, he'd walk around the woman's desk to look over her shoulder at whatever she was doing on the computer. "Hmm, looks like you won't be getting to use those idiots at Center for material now that the Reformist's number one Mascot and poster-boy have arrived on the scene. I don't know why Edge let the Blackwood guy escape, it would be better to kill him now and get it over with, but hey, who am I to question the motives of our oh-so brilliant leader. I still say a better message would've been to blow up a corporate building or something. More attention grabbing and likely to actually help Meta's." Sebastian turned his emerald gaze to nancy, a smile splitting his face into as he continued to speak. "If you ask me, I think the whole 'for Meta's everywhere' line is just his excuse to kill people. He should just accept his insanity and do what I do, kill for the sake of it, and bask in the suffering of everyone around you. Torture is a very, very relaxing past time once you get the hang of it."</s> <\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya Aya was still frozen when a group of people emerged out of seemingly nowhere to surround Edge. Then the gunfire started. This time Aya really did scream. The people around her erupted into panic and began scrambling every which way, but the large armored man who'd jumped down shortly before seemed unfazed. She was still trying to get her bearings, her ears ringing from the gunshots, when another man, younger than the first, materialized in a blur. Before she even comprehended what was going on, the knight was charging at her, scooping her up in a none too delicate grip. Adrenaline potent as it thrummed through her veins, she reacted in fear before she could even comprehend what was going on. "No, no let me go!" she shouted as she began squirming in his arms her mind ran through years of training, but it was hard to flip someone when you had no leverage to work with. So she pushed against him, trying vainly to escape his grasp. A burst of light enveloped them and on a terrified impulse, Aya shut her eyes and shoved her hand up at her savior's face, finally managing to escape his grasp. She expected a harsh impact with the street – but it never came. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the astral plane. Suddenly, the overwhelming LA heat, city smells, the pain of being held against hard metal armor, all disappeared. Sounds became muffled, as if Aya had cloth over her ears. The world was dark around her, objects and people outlined with brilliant stars, hinting at their shapes and colors. Only her spirit, and the spirit of the man holding her carried the same colors as in life. Aya's eyes widened as they darted from the stranger's spirit to the shimmering outline of their physical bodies, her own still in his grasp, still as statues. "Oh my god," she whispered, taking a step backwards, away from the man. She'd been doing so well. She'd managed to stay under the radar in a city so rife with Meta politics. It'd been over a year since she'd used her power. Another twilit man materialized next to their bodies, speaking to them – or rather, speaking to the knight. Apparently she didn't warrant any consideration. In spite of the situation, a bubble of annoyance rose in her stomach. But it was quickly smothered with fear again as she looked down at her hands, to the knight, to their bodies. "I –… I…" Her mind drew a blank as she tried to think of what to say. What was there to say? Sorry I just ripped your soul out of your body, please don't hurt me? She just snapped her mouth shut and stared at him with wide eyes, watching him like a cornered animal would, ready to jump at the slightest action. @Nytefall</s>	<\|message\|>Alex Trebons "My lady, I am here for your - " The knight's attempted reassuring words were cut off in a flash of white as the girl shoved her hand into his faceplate. Suddenly, the pair were standing apart from each other, in a world of dark, washed-out shadows and brilliant constellations. The Paladin jerked from side to side, trying to get his bearings straight. What had happened? Was this an attack? Had the same meta who'd comitted the attack somehow transported them to this strange place? He raised his fist and tried to direct light around it, trying to make a torch, cast away some of the darkness. His powers did not respond. He looked back to the girl, who was stammering not far from him. "My lady, have no fear. Whatever foul power this is, I will..." His voice trailed off as he caught the look in her eyes, wild, desperate, terrified... guilty? "... You did this." Obviously, there was more to the girl than had previously met the eye. Had she attacked him? Was this some act of malice designed to hinder or impede him? Alex rejected the theory out of hand. Even if it wasn't entirely against his principles to assume malice when other explanations were available, the way the girl was quivering like a leaf seemed to belay that theory. An accident, then. The Paladin brought his armored hands up in an attempted placating gesture. "My lady, I mean you no harm. It seems that, in our misunderstanding, we may have been taken somewhere we should like very much not to be... where are we? What do these constellations mean? How do we get back?"</s>
<\|description\|>Alex Trebons Alias(s): Paladin, The Paladin Age: 24 Affiliations: Heroes. Factions: Independent. Description: Alex is an unassuming, somewhat scholarly looking young man. He works in a museum and looks the part, with somewhat messy brown hair, thick glasses, and a generally mousy demeanor. He bears himself in a way that seems to take a foot off his height and most of the broadness from his shoulders - he is, in general, a man nobody would think twice about. The Paladin persona, however, is nothing of the sort. The Paladin is a towering figure, clad from head to toe in steel armor that looks straight out of the Middle Ages. He tries to present himself as a larger-than-life ideal heroic figure, with varying success - to some, he may seem an angel, a mighty savior descended from on high to deliver the innocent. To others more accustomed to the world of the Gifted, he... may just seem like a dorky, old-fashioned weirdo. What's certain about him is that there seems to be no darkness in the man whatsoever. He is a tireless optimist, an incorrigible idealist, and an absolute puppy dog of a human being. He has yet to affiliate himself with the politics of his world, preferring to help out where he can as a 'small steps' sort of hero. Powers: Alex possesses, in addition to increased durability, strength and speed (think Captain America rather than Hulk or Thor), primarily photokinetic abilities - he has the power to manipulate and control light, even being able to create 'hard light' tools and objects. He mainly uses this to make glowing swords or shields out of pure light, being a stickler for his theme. He is also capable of producing light, being able to make his body 'glow' - this, however, tends to tire him out very quickly, leading to his powers being much less effective in a no-light environment. A side-effect of his light generation is that his body also tends to produce an immense amount of heat while he does so. He is able to survive this, being largely resistant to the effects of heat (though very vulnerable to cold temperatures), but anything else touching him when he gets warmed up may as well have touched the inside of an oven. Skills: He's not the most talented Gifted around, though he's put a lot of hours into practicing with his hard light weapons and so has become a capable combatant with those. Otherwise, he has little in the way of relevant talents - he's a History Major, in case that ever comes up. Oh, he's also a decent cook, should that matter. Equipment: His suit of armor is the only notable piece of equipment he owns - it's made of an alloy he doesn't fully understand that possesses both physical durability as well as confusing, sciency photon-storage properties. The upshot of all this is that it's a full body suit of armor that provides reasonable protection and glows when he pours light into it. It's pretty heavy though, so even in spite of his increased strength, his movements when inside it can be... awkward. The armor is his most prized possession, and he treasures it highly. Ranking: Upper B Rank. (Optional) Brief History: Alex was a normal boy with superpowers trying to get by in a world getting weirder every day. For most of his life, he hid what he was, hoping only that he wouldn't be noticed. That changed one night two years ago, when he met an older, technologically gifted Meta who was impressed by his character and convinced him to take a more active role in the world. Thus, The Paladin was born, with the help of a suit of armor crafted for him by his mentor, and the new knight began his daylight patrol of city streets and dark alleyways, seeking to spread light and hope wherever he was able.</s> <\|message\|>Fletcher Parkmen Fletcher was concerned about these new people popping up left and right, what he had to deal with were these bomb strapped fellas. They seemed intent on running into the crowd, possibly to cause mass casualties by blowing themselves up. Fletcher acted in an instant teleporting to the dead eyed person who was the closest to the crowd, giving the man no time to react he teleported him away from the crowd on top of a building out of the way. Fletcher was no bomb genius and did not want to give him a moment to detonate the bomb. Teleporting it of his chest and off into a desolate desert. Putting the person into a choke hold he hand cuffed him. Reappearing with the hand cuffed man he proceed to engage the next bomb-man the exact same way. As teleporting back with the two hand cuffed he left them in the hands of e policemen and reappeared back at the building. The whole scene seemed to be wrapping itself up with another meta getting involved to help clear away and take down the assailants. The Knight man was just standing their with the girl in his arms. Walking up to him he patted him on the shoulder. "Hey buddy, looks like it's all wrapping up here it's safe to put her down now." There was no reply. "Mate? You there?"</s> <\|message\|>Aiko Fujiwara Aiko Fujiwara Aiko Fujiwara was training at the Reformist Council in LA. She was not sure why they wanted something as powerful as her her at the reformists. Aiko was happy on the island with her aunt and uncle it was a small fishing island where there were more cats than people. She at least had a good relationship with her aunt and uncle was unsure why this old woman took her to Los Anglese. The island allowed her the ability not to be inudated by mental images hitting her from all directions. Aiko haed the instructor whomever it was he was a jerk. She was going to call and ask to be sent to island. At least the island was calm and uninteresting. She would not be able to see into others minds and alter them when she was on the island. Why was she here was the only thought she had and her reply to it was. She did not know and she just wanted to go home.</s> <\|message\|>Lucas Abd-al-Yasu (Lucas, Servant of Jesus, the Anti-Eli) Lucas Abd-al-Yasu walked towards Aiko's room; he wasn't the instructor, but he had some questions to ask her, questions about the past and future. For, you see, Lucas, normally an idealistic soul, had broken down, and the reason for said breakdown was that things did not go his way. Why had things not gone his way? Well, basically, he got passed up for promotion to an adminsitrative position, even though he was so much better, or at least, his vision for what the world should be was. Don't be like that, he chastised himself. That way lies hubris. It's my emotional comfort in an uncomfortable world, his own insecurities replied, without my ideals, I am nothing. Those were his thoughts as he knocked on Aiko's door. "Yes?" asked the accented English of Aiko from behind the door. "It's not your instructor, but I did come here to ask you something," Lucas then remembered to introduce himself. "My name is Lucas Abd-al-Yasu, and I need someone with your powers." "What is it?" asked Aiko cautiously. "Because I doubt my head's policies, and I need the help of someone who can see possible futures to see if those doubts have any meat to them," Lucas was now opening himself up. "Because I have this flaw, that I'm rigid and inflexible, while I think Auntie Sable's policies are just too...cynical and..." he looked around him, "weak. Basically, what I'm saying is: I want to know, am I being a baby, or should I oppose my head's polciies?" "Doing that is difficult it requires energy and a lot of effort. Also I cannot control where it goes. It could be a possiblity and not the real future. So you could be preparing for something that never comes." Aiko replied through the door. "Then show me a future where I lose," said Lucas. "Show me a future where I lose, so that I never have the pride to air such views again." Aiko came out of her room. "Alright I will look but don't do nothing ...creepy." Aiko told Lucas. "I won't," Lucas promised, "sorry if I gave that impression." "You want to know the future, the bad future, so yes I think you are creepy. I mean are you really that desperate to humble yourself? Just use your own imagination." Aiko told Lucas. "Well, this is fruitless," said Lucas. "Yes it is because I already saw a bad future. A future where the reformists loose and the government rounds up the metas. They have killed all of them. You were shot in the bathroom at an Applebees while hiding. So it is a version of Days of Futures Past." "I don't believe that," said Lucas, "I believe, for some reasom, that the Underground Movement will win. Sorry to be my own variety of Debbie Downer, but in my travels around the world, putting our brushfires, I've long since given up hope that my ideals, of Meta and Human coexistence, can ever be put in place. Humans and Metas have so much to gain by cooperating, but the desire to control is Sapient Nature, and I myself have it. Should I join the battle brewing at the Human Centre, I'll lose, and there will be nothing." A flash of anger appeared in Lucas' eyes, and he spoke: "Why am I so inadequate? Why am I such a loser? I killed the 'Caliph' of IS, but when I think of fighting that 'Edge' guy, a chilling certainty tells me that (Edit: he's too strong for me.)" "But, at the same time, I cannot kill myself, I cannot die, I want to continue on, I want to win. It's just that, I can't win, the future is already set; Edge will win, and we are all doomed." "You think the outcome of a winning over Edge will result in an age of peace? Peace does not exsist without work. But killing Edge will just have another enemy replace him. You think I think this world is easy? Terrorsim I could stop? Possible horrible leaders. See my problem is I can't tell the difference between the true future and a possiblity. No amount of training will make the true future visible to me. The reason is I cannot see the true future until it becomes the present. I have stopped trying to see the future at least intetionally." Aiko sighed. "All I want is to go home and to be with my Aunt and Uncle. I's like to help but I can't tell what will be a win for you. Last time I listened to my insticts I ended up leaving the island and coming to LA. But I could try." Aiko rubbed her eyes. "Please, do," said Lucas.</s> <\|message\|>Elijah Craigh EDGE He wouldn't say another word till getting back. It seemed like the most important members have heeded the call. Oddly enough they we're all in Nancy's office, each one pissing and moaning about what should have been. He listened to each one carefully. Do they not see it? The bigger plan, the plan that would put Metahumans at the top. Such foolishness. "The Reformist's have shown their hands. They have no one that can stop us and the plans that have been set into motion. This is merely the first salvo in the war too come. Small and measured testing that will lead to much bigger things. War is a marathon, not sprint. What comes next will be the blood bath you've all wanted. Have no fear on that score." EDGE said as he took off his trench coat. He special assignments for each of them, a church here, a hospital there. Chaos will rub rampant before they take over and resort order. "Savor this small victory. What comes next won't be near as easy." EDGE with certain malice in his voice.</s>	<\|message\|>Alex Trebons A smile, obscured by the helmet, spread over Alex's face as he turned this way and that, marveling at the shimmering points of light all around him. "Remarkable," he breathed. "And you can see what it all means? That is... quite a power you have, my lady." The Paladin shook his head and forced himself back to business. A new shape had appeared next to his - someone was trying to talk to him. Add to that the fact that the fight might still be going on, the civilians might still be in danger... there was really no time to admire this girl's strange, beautiful world. "Yes. Take us back." The knight extended a hand to grasp hers gently. "On your time."</s>
<\|description\|>Alex Trebons Alias(s): Paladin, The Paladin Age: 24 Affiliations: Heroes. Factions: Independent. Description: Alex is an unassuming, somewhat scholarly looking young man. He works in a museum and looks the part, with somewhat messy brown hair, thick glasses, and a generally mousy demeanor. He bears himself in a way that seems to take a foot off his height and most of the broadness from his shoulders - he is, in general, a man nobody would think twice about. The Paladin persona, however, is nothing of the sort. The Paladin is a towering figure, clad from head to toe in steel armor that looks straight out of the Middle Ages. He tries to present himself as a larger-than-life ideal heroic figure, with varying success - to some, he may seem an angel, a mighty savior descended from on high to deliver the innocent. To others more accustomed to the world of the Gifted, he... may just seem like a dorky, old-fashioned weirdo. What's certain about him is that there seems to be no darkness in the man whatsoever. He is a tireless optimist, an incorrigible idealist, and an absolute puppy dog of a human being. He has yet to affiliate himself with the politics of his world, preferring to help out where he can as a 'small steps' sort of hero. Powers: Alex possesses, in addition to increased durability, strength and speed (think Captain America rather than Hulk or Thor), primarily photokinetic abilities - he has the power to manipulate and control light, even being able to create 'hard light' tools and objects. He mainly uses this to make glowing swords or shields out of pure light, being a stickler for his theme. He is also capable of producing light, being able to make his body 'glow' - this, however, tends to tire him out very quickly, leading to his powers being much less effective in a no-light environment. A side-effect of his light generation is that his body also tends to produce an immense amount of heat while he does so. He is able to survive this, being largely resistant to the effects of heat (though very vulnerable to cold temperatures), but anything else touching him when he gets warmed up may as well have touched the inside of an oven. Skills: He's not the most talented Gifted around, though he's put a lot of hours into practicing with his hard light weapons and so has become a capable combatant with those. Otherwise, he has little in the way of relevant talents - he's a History Major, in case that ever comes up. Oh, he's also a decent cook, should that matter. Equipment: His suit of armor is the only notable piece of equipment he owns - it's made of an alloy he doesn't fully understand that possesses both physical durability as well as confusing, sciency photon-storage properties. The upshot of all this is that it's a full body suit of armor that provides reasonable protection and glows when he pours light into it. It's pretty heavy though, so even in spite of his increased strength, his movements when inside it can be... awkward. The armor is his most prized possession, and he treasures it highly. Ranking: Upper B Rank. (Optional) Brief History: Alex was a normal boy with superpowers trying to get by in a world getting weirder every day. For most of his life, he hid what he was, hoping only that he wouldn't be noticed. That changed one night two years ago, when he met an older, technologically gifted Meta who was impressed by his character and convinced him to take a more active role in the world. Thus, The Paladin was born, with the help of a suit of armor crafted for him by his mentor, and the new knight began his daylight patrol of city streets and dark alleyways, seeking to spread light and hope wherever he was able.</s> <\|message\|>Marcus Collins Marcus leaped from one building to the next at speeds that seemed inhuman as well the fact that he was leaping well over a hundred with every jump. He needed to get to his target as quick as possible before they made his assassination more difficult. This job would see almost a million bucks in his pockets and to make this job even better, the women he was assassinating was a member of the British parliament. He would take great pleasure in putting a bullet in this Brit's brain. His mind for a short moment went back to the memory of his father's murder and his hatred rose up inside of him. "Time to send this buck toothed Bure to God" he said to himself as his target came into a little ways down the street getting a vehicle that was being escorted by several guards. Once in position, Marcus quickly took out his sniper rifle and took aim at the vehicle. For a normal human the shot would have been very difficult, but his incredible senses and his fast thinking brain made the shot more easier. "Goodnight lassie" he said and the pulled the trigger. The bullet flew its course and found its target going right through the skull of the female politician. "Gotcha!" Marcus exclaimed and then made his escape, moving at speeds ten times faster than an athletic human. Now he needed to get away as fast as possible before he would have to fight off the authorities. After he had gotten away and made back to his safe house, Marcus contacted his contractors and received his money for his job well done. Now he was waiting for his next job and even though it didn't really matter to him Marcus still kept up on the situation with humans and metahumans. He had taken jobs for organizations who hired metahuman hit men and they paid handsomely. Maybe sometime soon they would offer him work.</s> <\|message\|>Isaac Grimes Beauty and the Beast: Part Two "Ha!" Ellen blurted with all the sarcasm she could muster. "You think you are just sooo clever trying to analyze people but you are just trying so hard to fill that trope that you have to be some psychotic slag." She sounded irritated but the reality was that Ellen Bowers was cold and heartless at this point. She couldn't give two shits about 'Sebastian the Wannabe Lector', or his attempt at trying to size her up. He didn't know shit about her actual situation, she never told him. He was just pulling shit out of his ass and spewing the same old bullshit that the media liked to say. "Pfft!" Ellen spat with a grin before Sebastian even had a chance to finish. "Oh please, don't give me that bullshit, Sebastian. You can put on this act all you want, but in the end you're just some shithead who jerks it in his own pool of blood. And nothing will ever cha- Ack! God!" Ellen was suddenly interrupted by Nancy's fevered attempts at sloppily waving a bag in front of Ellen's flawless face. She had even forgot Nancy was still in the room with all of Sebastian's attempts at strutting about. With nothing held back for her colleague, Ellen rudely shoved Nancy's little forehead away. "No thanks, loser!" She added with a scowl but that would have been her reaction regardless of the chips being poisoned or not. To Ellen, there was no difference between a oily Cheeto and one laced with Ricin. "Losers! All of you!" She shook her head and threw up her hands, signalling her intent to resign. "I cannot believe I'm stuck here babysitting this lot..." She muttered in resentment as she turned and stormed out into the hallway and around the corner. - Meanwhile, Isaac had been taking it all in. He wasn't much for words but he would never tune out of a conversation. It was actually a scary concept to see the constant bickering among the Underground Members. There was no sense of camaraderie, it seemed, and everyone appeared to be tied together by loose string, all pulling and tugging at them to get free. EDGE, himself, was that string and there was a lot riding on him. It was times like these, and many others by unrelated facts, that made Isaac reconsider his position. The Underground promised results and revenge but it all seemed so volatile. The flips side of that was the Reformist but progress over there seemed so painfully slow and Isaac was in disagreement with their methods. But it seemed a heck of a lot safer. Sebastian's question snapped Isaac back to the conversation. He honestly wasn't ever phased by Sebastian's taunts and always kept a cool head. He had become accustomed to taunts and insults growing up that they never penetrated the skin. In response to Sebastian's offer, Isaac merely shrugged and grunted, not really sure if Sebastian really intended on sparring. It didn't seem like his thing to do. The sound of crinkling soon after his grunt, brought Isaac to the smaller figure in front of him. Nancy was insisting on sharing a snack in a rather gleeful manner. Gently, Isaac grabbed Nancy's cold wrist and lowered. "No thank you, Nancy." He said softly, not even realizing that he had just turned down poisoned puffs and rather said no on his instinct that he 'just wasn't hungry.' Nancy's interruption was rather timely in jogging his memory, however. He had to admit to being really curious about the official response of authorities everywhere. "Hey, Nancy. I don't suppose you know what's happening out there right now?" Isaac asked in politely, finally releasing the girl's hands.</s> <\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya Five times, Aya thought to herself as the knight addressed her once again. Shifting uncomfortably, she looked down as he marveled at her power. Sure it was pretty to look at, but what good was it really? Besides, it'd never been something she'd been particularly proud of anyway. She forced herself to breathe as she felt his hand on hers. All she had to do was use her power again, but the thought made her hesitate – the image of her father's face appeared in her mind. His sad eyes as he realized what his daughter was, how he tried to smile through the pain for her, as though making some false reassurance… Aya cut herself off by snapping her and the man back into their bodies. Sensation rushed back into the world, the LA heat, the mass or colors, the sounds of the fight… The sharp metal edges of the knight's armor were once again digging into her skin. There was another man standing behind him, with a hand on the knight's shoulder. Though his voice had been slightly muffled from beyond the veil, it was now clear as day in Aya's still ringing ears. She hurried to climb down from her 'savior's' arms, swaying a bit as her shaky legs struggled to support her, but quickly finding her balance. "Um," she started, "Right, well… thank you." Aya shifted away from him, feeling vulnerable with this man who now knew her secret. She glanced between the two strangers, then back down the block. The commotion was too far away for Aya to make out clearly, but it seemed like fighting was still going on. Something pulled in her to go and… do something. Help. But what was she supposed to do? How could she be expected to keep up with people like Edge, or people carrying guns? Besides, this wasn't her fight. But even as she told herself that, she chewed her lip in uncertainty. Wasn't this her fight? She was a Meta after all, no matter how much she hid it. But no. Aya had no place in fights or politics or any of that. The image of Edge emerging from the building, blood and bodies clearly visible behind him, flashed through her mind and she shuddered. Giving her head a small shake, she turned her attention back to the knight. "I'll just, uh, go then. If you need to… help over there or something, you can go. I'm fine. Thanks. Again." Her cheeks began to color as her stammering went on, and she quickly turned on her heel. She was ready to leave the knight and the bodies behind, and hide in the relative safety of her apartment. Of her normal life. Though it seemed she'd be taking the path through the ghetto home today.</s> <\|message\|>Clementine Mercer. Clementine Mercer --- The movement of the crowd was now readily apparent to Clem as she stumbled out into the open and toward an alleyway down the street from the L.A. Center for Humans. Sat in the alleyway was her salvation. Silver and shining dimly as it reflected the light from her entrance into the alley. So mysterious and alluring in its solitude, she felt herself being willed towards it. She couldn't stop herself, as her stomach pulled her forward toward this argent anomaly before her. She reached out her hand, quick but sluggish as time seemed to slow around her. Its surface was cool. Smooth. With a clatter, she lifted the lid off of the trash can and promptly threw up. So much blood, so many dead in that center. It was sickening, it was barbaric. She could feel her insides churning and gurgling as she horked up the remainder of the strawberry smoothie she has been nursing earlier. A deluge of pink goop, thrown into the open trashcan as she lifted herself from the trash, and put the lid back on in disgust. At both what she had seen, and herself. A gloopy chunk of pink froth clung to her pristine white hair, like the aftermath of a bubblegum bubble-bath. The acrid smell was going to take ages to come out. The images of the dead were never going to, on the other hand. Those people. They may have been misguided and bigoted, but they were still people. No one deserved to have their fate decided for them like that. Clementine mused to herself as she rubbed at her rumbling stomach, now empty and burning as was her throat. She spat pink and red onto the floor of the alley and swiped at her phone with one hand, as the other shook itself clean of leftover smoothie and stomach acid. Those people were just people, and the fact that they were attacked like that only meant that no one was safe, and that something was stirring up. Clementine had to protect herself. To find a safe haven, and protect herself but she's just a girl, what could she do besides buy a gun? She paused for a second, before starting to tap away on her phone. She knew of a way to protect herself, but she would need some help. And some money.</s>	<\|message\|>Alex Trebons Alex jerked his head slightly as he was returned to the world of the physical. He felt the girl scrambling out of his grasp and released her quickly - the danger, it seemed, had passed. Someone was talking to him. "Mate? You there?" The Paladin cleared his throat. "Ah, yes. Apologies, my friend, I was just having something of an... out of body experience." Considering the girl's timid reaction to the use of her powers, it would... probably be polite not to let slip what had just happened. If she wished to hide her nature, that was her right. He looked around again. The scene certainly seemed to be wrapped up - the henchmen were dealt with, the people were safe, and the murderous meta was nowhere to be seen. It would have been better if he could have been apprehended, though in a situation like this perhaps it was simply better that nobody else had been hurt. "It seems to me that the rest of you have handled matters very well in my absence. You should well be proud. I... suppose if you have no further need of me, I will take my leave." The knight turned and began to trudge off, his cloak dragging on the ground. At another thought, he turned again. "Take care of yourself, my lady. And thank you for the... invitation."</s>
<\|description\|>Fletcher Parkmen Alias: Blink Gender: Male Age: 23 Affiliation: The Heroes Faction: None General Clothes: In-costume Jacob completes this costume with a mask to cover his face. Jacob isn't psychically very strong he goes the the gym and looks after himself but he's no body builder. Powers: Fletcher can Teleport to literally any place he has visited and can remember. This is only limited by his mental willpower he could if he wanted to teleport a whole building but in doing so it would overload his brain and cause him to have several seizure or strokes. He can comfortably teleport a maximum of 4 people or a Van (with nobody inside), anymore and it starts to take a toll on him both physically and mentally. Fletcher does not have to teleport with the object or person he teleports. Fletcher needs to be able to concentrate on his target so if he was in pain or had a headache (basically distracted) he would not be able to focus on the location. Fletcher's power works through physicals touch, so he must touch the thing he want to teleport. Skills: - Trained in Jujutsu and is a Black belt in the Art - Journalist - Eidetic Memory - Natural Charmer - Street Smart Equipment: - Camera - Notepad - Mechanical Pencil - Collapsible Steel Baton Rank: A Background: Fletcher lived a rather ordinary life, went to school excelled in his lessons and passed his GCSE's with flying colours. Than his mother died, a Brain Tumour the doctors were baffled as to how such a thing went unnoticed. She just went to sleep and never woke up. This all happened when he was 16. Fletcher mourned and got on with his life, his Father didn't. He became a raging alcoholic and when Fletcher finished Sixth form his father died from Alcohol poisoning. Fletcher was distraught but not surprised, orphaned Fletcher looked for a job not finding one he decided to work as a journalist and instantly found his calling. Landing 12 good stories he managed to earn enough money to buy a small apartment. Second is the story after receiving their abilities. After 31 amazing stories that all landed him a nice bag of cash Fletcher turned his eye to Photography. Instantly he took to it, and spent a year of his life using his camera to help him gather evidence for his stories. Of course he went down a dark road of using blackmail to get what he wanted, but that is all in the past. After he discovered his power he abused quite a lot. Stealing a lot of money in order to move to Washington and buy himself a small and well stocked house full of everything he wanted. He soon grew bored and guilty of this and decided to stop stealing and to only use his power for good. He thought of himself as Superman. Journalist by day and Hero by night. Now he's working on a big story that he hopes will provide him with some answers...</s> <\|message\|>Jonathan Lines Jonathan Jon grimaced as he came to a halt on a street corner, turning his mouth into the crook of his elbow to let out a cough that sounded as miserable as he felt, while waiting patiently for the cross sign to turn green. The lights blurred as his eyes watered, once again mentally restraining himself from sneezing like a madman for the umpteenth time today, oh what a joy it was to be him. Four weeks had passed now and Jon was still sick, his GP was baffled by the rapid appearances of symptoms and the constant bruising and grazes he seemed to gain overnight without knowledge. It was like he was cursed or something. Today had left him more worn out than usual, slumped over his handlebars he almost missed the lights while watching the shadows play on the pavement. He groaned softly to himself as he got the bike in motion, frowning as he thought back on today. His boss Rebecca had been getting on his case lately, like it was his fault he was sick all the time and how he should be more like Jerry who had the good grace to recover fast from his cold while working in the shop and once again he had been assigned to stacking boxes in the back, followed by sitting on his ass whilst he watched the minutes tick by. God Rebecca can be such a bitc... He sat up suddenly at the sound of gunfire, from just around the corner, ripped from his thoughts by the startling sound. "Jesus.." He muttered, squeezing the brakes to bring his bike to a stop, the sound of a commotion emanating just out of his sight. Fear held him still for some time as he strained to hear what was going on, sweat trickled down his spine as he sat poised on his bike, ready to move at the first signs of danger. Shockingly enough to Jon he found himself dismount his bike, gently resting it against the sidewalk as he moved along at a crouch toward the scene, curiosity finally getting the better of him. Nervously he peeked around the corner, a small crowd of people was all he saw, yet it looked like they were about to face off against each other. His heart raced in his chest as he slowly looked out from his cover again, he might just be lucky enough to witness a battle between Metas.</s> <\|message\|>Light Light was having a good time traveling along the streets of LA, visiting her usual stops after having spent a good amount of time abroad doing whatever missions the Government wanted her to do. She was a bit thankful that she wasn't being swarmed by fans having not been in LA for quite some time as she grabbed some food, jumping into one of her portals before people realized who she was. Appearing on top of a billboard Light started to eat her lunch. "Man, its nice being able to travel the world and get meals for free, but I don't know if I like being so famous." She thought to herself, noticing the billboard she was on was an advertisement for a soda brand that had her face plastered all over it. "If its not being swarmed by fans, its being a target for those anti meta groups. oy... Being shot isn't fun." Thinking about that, she looked around the area where anti metas were often hold up, and noticed some smoke coming from that direction. "Yay... I'd better check this out before I get a call about it. Better to be already there then doing something embarrassing again." Pulling out a portal from her dress, Light made her way over to the fight in front of the human meta relationship building. When she started to get near, Light could now hear gunshots and when she could overlook the situation, she noticed that there were a lot of bodies in piles, with some masked people carrying them away while some officers were shooting a guy. "Well, this is confusing. What the heck is going on down there?" Light said, noticing that while some cops were attacking a meta, others were trying to stop them and save the meta. "Well... They probably have that. The body thing is a lot more suspicious. Why would anyone want dead bodies?" Jumping down from her perch, Light made her way to intercept one of the masked guys who were carrying bodies off. "What are you doing? Did you kill all these people? Carrying off bodies is mighty suspicious..." Light said, getting in a ready stance as she got in the way of the masked man who had just picked up a couple bodies. While he did look quite big, Light wasn't too worried. While she had a thin frame, she was very strong.</s>	<\|message\|>Fletcher Parkmen Fletcher woke with a jolt sweat dripping down his forehead, sitting up he rubbed his forehead looking at his damp hands another nightmare. He had been plagued by these nightmares. He could never remember what they were about, he just knew that every night he dreaded closing eyes and going to sleep. Whatever these nightmares were about they sure as hell scared him. Jumping out of bed he rubbed his mustache as he looked at himself in the full length mirror that made up the doors to his walk-in wardrobe. These nightmares were troubling but he had other things on his mind. Leaving the room he made himself breakfast and teleported to the local store to buy a newspaper. Teleporting back just as his toast popped out of the toaster he started spreading butter as he read the paper. The main story was about a terrorist attack on LA Center for non-metas. Fletcher dropped the toast, he had to report this! Teleporting into his room he threw open his wardrobe and got dressed as fast as he could. Grabbing his jacket and reporting things he teleported to LA into an alleyway. Smiling he tapped his head, he had forgotten his hat. Teleporting back to his home in Washington he grabbed his hat of his coat rack and then returned to LA. "Much better" He said to himself. Stepping out of the alleyway he began to do his thing, gathering information from the locals he began snooping around the scene and more importantly the police. The "Terrorists" were part of the group called the Underground movement. He had heard that name before, but only as a rumor. From what he had gathered they were a group of meta's who had no problems using violence to get their point across. The thought made his blood boil, he was a meta and to have this group essentially representing him and painting all meta's in such a bad light was infuriating. Looking at the sky he saw it was getting dark, snapping his notebook shut he would write up the story later. He wanted to look one more time around the city. However it didn't take long for LA's night to start with a bang. He heard the scream of a woman coming from the right of him, teleporting back to Washington he telported into his costume and telported straight back to LA around the area of the scream. He found the source quickly blood bodies and a man splattered in blood emerging from the building. "Jesus Christ!" Fletcher had seen his fair share of blood and bodies in England but this was ridiculous. Then the fighting began a Meta wearing armour and some other reformist leader appeared. Both attacking the other people who followed the trench coat man out of the building. "what are you doing don't you realize that you're just painting us Meta's in a bad light. Are you just stupid?! How does that." He pointed at the open doors. "Prove anything except that none of us are capable of reasonable thinking?!" He saw the reformist offer the man in armour a box. He accepted the box of sweets and nodded. "I will get the civilian to safety, then return to cover you. Should you have any need of direct assistance, do call for me, and I will come as quickly as I am able." Holding the box under his arm and probably crushing most of the goodies within, the Paladin took off running towards the woman - more of a girl, really, getting closer to her. "Apologies, my lady, but the hour is much too desperate for chivalry!" he shouted out as he grabbed at her and kept running, already forming a thick bubble of hard light to protect his passenger from harm. "Hey Holy Knight? I'm a Teleporter need a hand getting these people out of harms way? Or you Reformist man? You need a hand either or should I consider you an enemy?!" Fletcher may be a hero but he wasn't going to make a move until they said something. This reformist fella could hurt someone if he wasn't careful then he would be an enemy. A simple 20'000 foot drop would finish him. This Paladin guy though he defiantly seemed a good guy.</s>
<\|description\|>Lucas Abd-al-Yasu (Lucas, Servant of Jesus, the Anti-Eli) Alias(s): Retribution Age: 26. Affiliations: Heroes Factions: Reformists Description: A brown-skinned man with perfectly combed, short black hair and green eyes, Lucas is a tall, atheletic, handsome man with a lean, scuplted physique who prefers to wear a flak jacket over a shirt and tan jeans, completed by a brown longcoat. For footwear, he chooses sturdy desert boots. Powers: Lucas can produce and control water and to a limited extent, ice. He can create whips, high-pressure water jets, ice ramps, bolts of ice, and, well, basically anything that requires water and ice to make. His weakness is that he is severely vulnerable to electricity when using water and, when using ice, fire. He also cannot control water already inside a living being, so no plantbending or bloodbending (unless the blood is outside the body). Flaws that aren't directly connected to his power, yet affect it, are Lucas' runaway idealism, which, when combined with impatience, leads him to regard struggle and effort as unecessary, which in turn leads him to break down when things don't go his way. Skills: History, Literature, Strategy and Tactics, Unarmed Combat, Firearms, Swordsmanship and Knives. Equipment: Several types of Gun, Ammo, a Scimtar and a Kalis, as well as Grenades, a First Aid Kit, and Pills that help Concentration. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kalis Ranking: A (Optional) Brief History: Born in Jordan as the son of a Chirstian Arab Lieutenant Colonel (Muqaddam) and a Filipino Domestic Worker, Lucas was a an immensely intelligent and skilled youth with Dual Citizenship, which allowed him entrance into Jordan's circles of privilege, while at the same time keeping him grounded by interaction with his poorer Filipino relatives. A good fighter and already a soldier in Jordan's Armed Forces, Lucas was (edit: 18) at the time of the Maybark Incident, when Metahumans came to the Public's Attention. Originally hiding his powers from people, he chose to go public when ISIS began overruning Syria and Iraq, which in turn was the same time Metas began being more accepted. In 2015, Lucas (Edit: and several other Metas were) sent by the UN to relieve the city of Ramadi, then under siege by IS forces. He suceeded, and thereafter underwent further missions in Mosul, Tayl Abd, and Raqqa itself, where he killed the 'Caliph' of IS, Abu Bakr Al-Baghdadi. After that, well, he's been wandering around, putting out brushfires all around the world.</s> <\|message\|>Fletcher Parkmen Fletcher was concerned about these new people popping up left and right, what he had to deal with were these bomb strapped fellas. They seemed intent on running into the crowd, possibly to cause mass casualties by blowing themselves up. Fletcher acted in an instant teleporting to the dead eyed person who was the closest to the crowd, giving the man no time to react he teleported him away from the crowd on top of a building out of the way. Fletcher was no bomb genius and did not want to give him a moment to detonate the bomb. Teleporting it of his chest and off into a desolate desert. Putting the person into a choke hold he hand cuffed him. Reappearing with the hand cuffed man he proceed to engage the next bomb-man the exact same way. As teleporting back with the two hand cuffed he left them in the hands of e policemen and reappeared back at the building. The whole scene seemed to be wrapping itself up with another meta getting involved to help clear away and take down the assailants. The Knight man was just standing their with the girl in his arms. Walking up to him he patted him on the shoulder. "Hey buddy, looks like it's all wrapping up here it's safe to put her down now." There was no reply. "Mate? You there?"</s> <\|message\|>Aiko Fujiwara Aiko Fujiwara Aiko Fujiwara was training at the Reformist Council in LA. She was not sure why they wanted something as powerful as her her at the reformists. Aiko was happy on the island with her aunt and uncle it was a small fishing island where there were more cats than people. She at least had a good relationship with her aunt and uncle was unsure why this old woman took her to Los Anglese. The island allowed her the ability not to be inudated by mental images hitting her from all directions. Aiko haed the instructor whomever it was he was a jerk. She was going to call and ask to be sent to island. At least the island was calm and uninteresting. She would not be able to see into others minds and alter them when she was on the island. Why was she here was the only thought she had and her reply to it was. She did not know and she just wanted to go home.</s>	<\|message\|>Lucas Abd-al-Yasu (Lucas, Servant of Jesus, the Anti-Eli) Lucas Abd-al-Yasu walked towards Aiko's room; he wasn't the instructor, but he had some questions to ask her, questions about the past and future. For, you see, Lucas, normally an idealistic soul, had broken down, and the reason for said breakdown was that things did not go his way. Why had things not gone his way? Well, basically, he got passed up for promotion to an adminsitrative position, even though he was so much better, or at least, his vision for what the world should be was. Don't be like that, he chastised himself. That way lies hubris. It's my emotional comfort in an uncomfortable world, his own insecurities replied, without my ideals, I am nothing. Those were his thoughts as he knocked on Aiko's door. "Yes?" asked the accented English of Aiko from behind the door. "It's not your instructor, but I did come here to ask you something," Lucas then remembered to introduce himself. "My name is Lucas Abd-al-Yasu, and I need someone with your powers." "What is it?" asked Aiko cautiously. "Because I doubt my head's policies, and I need the help of someone who can see possible futures to see if those doubts have any meat to them," Lucas was now opening himself up. "Because I have this flaw, that I'm rigid and inflexible, while I think Auntie Sable's policies are just too...cynical and..." he looked around him, "weak. Basically, what I'm saying is: I want to know, am I being a baby, or should I oppose my head's polciies?" "Doing that is difficult it requires energy and a lot of effort. Also I cannot control where it goes. It could be a possiblity and not the real future. So you could be preparing for something that never comes." Aiko replied through the door. "Then show me a future where I lose," said Lucas. "Show me a future where I lose, so that I never have the pride to air such views again." Aiko came out of her room. "Alright I will look but don't do nothing ...creepy." Aiko told Lucas. "I won't," Lucas promised, "sorry if I gave that impression." "You want to know the future, the bad future, so yes I think you are creepy. I mean are you really that desperate to humble yourself? Just use your own imagination." Aiko told Lucas. "Well, this is fruitless," said Lucas. "Yes it is because I already saw a bad future. A future where the reformists loose and the government rounds up the metas. They have killed all of them. You were shot in the bathroom at an Applebees while hiding. So it is a version of Days of Futures Past." "I don't believe that," said Lucas, "I believe, for some reasom, that the Underground Movement will win. Sorry to be my own variety of Debbie Downer, but in my travels around the world, putting our brushfires, I've long since given up hope that my ideals, of Meta and Human coexistence, can ever be put in place. Humans and Metas have so much to gain by cooperating, but the desire to control is Sapient Nature, and I myself have it. Should I join the battle brewing at the Human Centre, I'll lose, and there will be nothing." A flash of anger appeared in Lucas' eyes, and he spoke: "Why am I so inadequate? Why am I such a loser? I killed the 'Caliph' of IS, but when I think of fighting that 'Edge' guy, a chilling certainty tells me that (Edit: he's too strong for me.)" "But, at the same time, I cannot kill myself, I cannot die, I want to continue on, I want to win. It's just that, I can't win, the future is already set; Edge will win, and we are all doomed." "You think the outcome of a winning over Edge will result in an age of peace? Peace does not exsist without work. But killing Edge will just have another enemy replace him. You think I think this world is easy? Terrorsim I could stop? Possible horrible leaders. See my problem is I can't tell the difference between the true future and a possiblity. No amount of training will make the true future visible to me. The reason is I cannot see the true future until it becomes the present. I have stopped trying to see the future at least intetionally." Aiko sighed. "All I want is to go home and to be with my Aunt and Uncle. I's like to help but I can't tell what will be a win for you. Last time I listened to my insticts I ended up leaving the island and coming to LA. But I could try." Aiko rubbed her eyes. "Please, do," said Lucas.</s>
<\|description\|>Teresa Wilderflame Race: Demi-fire elemental Age:16 Appeareance: Personality: Teresa is a hot-headed and ambitious girl. She doesn't take defeat lightly. At first glance, she's rude and bossy, but she easily softens to most people, as most girls do. Ready to take on anything, she is a strong and independent girl full of love towards those who give her a chance.</s> <\|message\|>Teresa Wilderflame Teresa was so close, just a few more feet and she'd be safe. She stopped, took her prize and fate into both hands, and threw it. Just a few seconds until time was up, and everyone around her watched the object soar. 3, 2, 1, score! She won! The game was over, and her team won by 2 points! The girls lifted her up, and then the referee screamed. He was trying to pick up the basketball, but as soon as he touched it, the rubber melted onto his hand and he was burned badly. Teresa and the others were shocked. How did the ball heat up? Teresa had just touched it a few seconds ago. A hand ripped her from the scene, and she found herself being dragged outside by a slightly older looking guy. Who was he, and what did he want?</s> <\|message\|>Drake Fireborn Drake squirmed as he watched the games below from his perch on the top row of what he had read were called bleachers. Apparently, humans were supposed to be punished for watching these things. Why else would they consider planks of hard wood fastened together by steel bars a suitable seating arrangement for an event that took hours to complete? He scanned the people in shiny uniforms below him as the threw an orange ball back and forth, occasionally throwing it into a basket that hung above their heads. Unfortunately, the baskets each had holes in the bottom, so they were forced to continue thrown the ball into container that wouldn't catch it. How pointless... The human realm was confusing. Thankfully, it seemed that the time he had to spend here would be minimal. His eyes came to rest on one of the females in the game, a girl about his age with fiery orange hair and a brazen demeanor that could only mean one thing. Yep, he thought. She's a Fireborn. The girl ran up to the basket, shoving the orange ball into the air with what appeared to be all of her strength. It sailed above the others, who tried in vain to keep it from falling into what he dubbed the Basket of Uselessness. The ball entered the poorly-woven container, which as he suspected did not hold it even for a second. Then a long shrill whistle blew out, and people around him began to stand, putting their hands together over and over in some sort of strange human signal of approval. The applause did not last long. The man with the whistle began screaming, dropping the orange ball to his feet as it melted. They use rubber for those things! He blinked indignantly. And they let her play? Don't they know that rubber isn't fireproof! He turned back to the court, scanning it for any sight of the girl he had come for, but she seemed to have disappeared...</s>	<\|message\|>Teresa Wilderflame He slammed her against the wall. His hands were on the wall above her shoulders. His mask and hood covered everything but the eyes. They looked icy blue and seemed to have an icy sheen. "You are in danger. Get out of here and hide. Do not trust anyone. Do you hear me? If I find out I laid my life on the line to warn you and you end up getting caught anyway, I will be extremely displeased with you. You don't want me displeased. Now go! Don't trust anyone!" An icy wind blew, and a small tornado of snow swirled around the stranger. It all vanished in a few seconds, taking the guy with it. Panting for air, Teresa came into the sunlight and away from the wall, now covered in burns and ice where she was pushed against and where his hands were. What just happened? Danger? The people from the game were coming out, carrying the referee onto an ambulance. When did the ambulance get here? She must have been so shocked about being kidnapped that she didn't hear the sirens. Now they were blazing alarms everywhere. People started to come toward her, calling her and asking if she was okay. Teresa didn't know what to do, so she just ran, leaving the gravel sizzling.</s>
<\|description\|>Grace Whyte Alias: Hasn't decided yet Age: 15 Power/ Limitations: Water Manipulation -Can shape and manipulate water -Density manipulation/ water solidification -Is unable to create water, is limited to using existing sources. -Distance and the amount of matter depends on user's strength -Controlling and manipulating greater bodies is exhausting. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte The sun began streaming in through the window, the light hitting Grace in the face and causing it to scrunch up before she opened her eyes reluctantly and rolled over, lying on her back and placing her hands behind her head as she stared at the ceiling. Today was her first day of high school. It was still taking a little while for that fact to sink in, it seemed like just yesterday her and her mother were moving in even though it was more like ten or so years ago now, right before she'd started primary school. Truth be told she hadn't thought about it much until now. Glancing over at her clock Grace sighed, realising she had a lot of time to fill before school was even close to starting now. Sliding out of bed she walked over to the large fish tank in her room, kneeling down and watching the small collection of guppies swimming around. "Morning guys." She said, still staring at them. After a few moments, however she sighed and stood up. "Still not talking to me hu?" Grace had always been slightly hopeful that, along with her water powers, she would have developed the ability to talk to marine creatures. To this day she'd had no such luck. Walking into the bathroom she also checked her neck for gills, another hopeful wish of hers. Though she was aware by now she'd probably developed all the powers she was going to she still liked to hope. She took a fairly long shower, seeing as she had a lot of time to spare and then went back to her room. She quickly closed her blinds and got dressed before heading downstairs. The house was quiet and still; meaning her mother still hadn't gotten back from her most recent crime fighting endeavours or she had gotten back rather late and was just asleep upstairs sleeping. Grace set about making herself some breakfast and sat down in the living room, turning on the TV and flipping to a channel that had cartoons. She did pause briefly on a news channel where her mother was fighting off some crazy bug lady. Obviously the result of last night's call out. However it was quickly over and she flicked over to cartoons. It wasn't that Grace was an overly childish person, she just enjoyed watching cartoons, mostly anime, which was often directed at an older audience anyway. They often had better plot than anything else that was on anyway.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker A void surrounded him, emptiness, nothingness, then something. A bright flash, the laughter of children, a lover's whisper. The elements sang, sang hymns of nature and solace, of war and chaos. Water and fire danced with one another, swirling in the emptiness, blissful. The elements were speaking to him, but he could not understand them, their words were blurred by the inferno suddenly engulfing him and then- "Master Parker," the unnaturally deep voice suddenly forcing him back to reality, broke the trance he was in, but the void remained, blackness enveloped his world once more. "Master Parker, it is time to wake and begin preparations for the day ahead." Kyle had already been awake for quite some time already, he had actually taken upon the opportunity to meditate and reflect upon the universe a skill he was taught early on by his father. Though Kyle knew how to project himself, his father knew that and more, even telling tales of delving into the far reaches of the astral plane, where only the pantheons would know what damnable beasts lurked in that darkness. That, however...was a story for another time. "Can I not be allowed five minutes more of silence to explore my mind further?" Kyle asked calmly. "Your father has expressed...great interest in your activity today, he would be most displeased to learn that you did not attend for...unjustifiable reasons." One of his father's creations, a soul bound to an autonomous being, a rather large thing, but with the patience and class of a professional 'care taker'. Supposedly it was made to look completely real, though the one time Kyle had looked upon his caretaker he was overcome with an insatiable rage and woke up hours later in his bed. Truthfully, he couldn't really make an opinion of it even if he wanted to. That being said, the automaton was completely right, though the activity mentioned was really just day one of a four year trip through high school; he wasn't looking forward to it. "I suppose you are right," he sighed, unfolding his legs and lifting himself up from the cushion he had chosen for his session. He moved forward, each step carefully memorized, he easily navigated his way over to what he knew was his mirror. He stared into what he knew was his reflection and it stared back, both completely unknowing as to what the other looked like. His eyes were closed, forced shut really, though it felt completely natural to Kyle at this point it was a side effect of the seal placed upon him. The seal was there to keep the curse at bay... "how many years has it been?" The thought echoed ".... Since birth, that's right," he'd nearly forgotten. The curse was something he was born with, it made it so that anything he looked upon would send him into a blinding rage, his powers improved drastically, but the destruction was...absolute. The seal was there to prevent him from destroying anything and everything, and so he stared into nothingness, emptiness, the void. He breathed in deeply, he had always dreamed that he would be able to open his eyes and see something without the rage overcoming him. Slowly as the years passed by, he realized that such a dream may never come true, it was something he had accepted, though hope flickered from time to time. Ah well... c'est la vie. He turned his head towards the automaton, "Prepare some breakfast and set out some clean clothes, I'm going to take a shower." "As you wish, Master Parker," the large creature stepped back into the hall closing the door behind him. Kyle turned his head back towards the mirror, he stared into the void, and it stared back.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Stretching out with a yawn and a small sigh Grace stood, taking her bowl over to the sink in the kitchen and rinsing it out before placing it in the dishwasher. Looking out the kitchen window she thought for a moment she saw some movement in the house next door, but by the time she looked it was already gone. It was always so dark over there, the curtains always drawn. Compared to her own house, which was always open, bright, warm and airy it seemed a sad way of life even though she had been taught never to judge someone without knowing their story. She didn't even know who or what kind of people lived there. Going around the house Grace made sure that everything was closed up and locked before she gathered her bag and her house keys, locking the front door behind her she began making her way down the street to the bus stop. It had rained last night, so everything was glistening with water and puddles covered the ground. She reached out, letting her hands brush against the plants as she passed, small water droplets transferring onto her hand or falling onto the ground. She always loved the smell of everything after it had rained. It smelt fresher, cleaner. Gray clouds still hung overhead, meaning they may even get more rain later. The girl felt, needless to say, most at home when she was surrounded by water. Smiling to herself she jumped up onto a small brick wall that was the fence to someone's yard and began walking along it with her arms outstretched to the sides. It was only a short walk to the bus stop, but she always tried to enjoy it as much as possible. If the school had been closer she would have been happy to walk or even ride a bike. The bus itself was not the most pleasant of places. Kids there were always so crude. She herself had been called immature plenty of times, but at least she still acted intelligent, she just enjoyed childish things. Whereas most people her age acted like idiots most of the time and she highly doubted it was out of choice, believe they truly didn't know any better. Up ahead there was a large puddle and Grace smiled, running a short ways before jumping off the low brick wall and into the puddle, splashing water in all directions and giggling happily to herself. There was just something about jumping in puddles that made her laugh.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He turned the water knob, the hot one only, and steaming water came running out, as the tub filled he removed his clothing and when it filled he tested the waters. A small smile made its way upon his lips, the temperature would have been way too hot for anyone else to handle, but to Kyle this was just right...though it could probably use a little more heat. He stepped into the water, and lowered himself in, calling upon his mana he breathed in deeply and exhaled, allowing his body temperature to heat up the water from scalding hot to boiling, literally. Easing himself in, he sighed, his muscles greatly enjoyed the intense heat and his lungs filled up with the steaming air. To him, this was Nirvana, and he would take as much time as he could to enjoy it. Time passed and after feeling satisfied, he stepped out from the water, drained the tub and toweled off. He made his way back to his room and towards his bed... his clothes were there, perfect. Dressing himself, he wandered near the window and pulled back the curtain ever so slightly and stared in the direction of the house next to his. He didn't know what it looked like, but every so often he'd... sense, the vibrancy of the house, a latent talent to having a mana source, a form of innate six sense. He couldn't identify what an object was or who a person was, but he could sense the presence of the being, the movements being made and the emotions being felt. There was always something about that house that felt...different, like it was lighter in comparison to his own, maybe it was the presences he felt inside, but there was usually a sense of joy coming from that house. Speaking of which, a presence made itself known, he couldn't tell what it was doing exactly, though it was something with their hands based on the movement. A glimmer, the presence shifted where it was looking and Kyle receded back from the window, he didn't want to provoke unwanted attention, especially with the kind of person his father was. A smell wafted its way into his room, finishing dressing he made his way downstairs to eat his breakfast, then afterwards his caretaker would drive him to school.</s>	<\|message\|>Grace Whyte Standing on the street corner Grace waited for the bus, her hands clasped behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels, humming to herself. An odd bubbly feeling in her stomach made itself known. Nerves. Butterflies beating themselves against the walls of her gut. Of course she was nervous. During primary and middle school she had been attending with normal humans. All her friends had been there, since most other like her had been… well like her and kept their abilities hidden from others. Now she was entering this new school with people she didn't know all with super powers like her. What if she didn't match up? What if they laughed at her? What if no one liked her? Reaching into her bag she took out her water bottle and took a long drink, the water usually helping to calm her nerves. She noticed the bus approaching and raised her hand to signal for it to stop and quickly climbed aboard. Looking down the aisle she quickly selected a seat with no one currently occupying it and made a beeline for it, sitting down and keeping her vision straight. If she didn't look at anyone then she couldn't offend. If she didn't offend no one would be tempted to beat the snot out of her. The reasonable and rational side of her tried to assure her that no one was going to beat her up because she looked at them funny. But the side of her that watched too many teenage movies told her to fear everyone and everything. The ride was only short, luckily, and no one decided to sit next to her. Grace was certain she looked as scared as she felt. It was strange too because she wasn't usually one to be so nervous. Once the bus arrived at the school she sat patiently, waiting for everyone else to get off before she did so as to avoid getting in anyone's way. Picking up her bag he quickly disembarked and stopped for a moment, looking up at the building. It looked just like any other school really. As she stood there she felt a small drop of water, then another and another before the heavens opened up and started raining down upon them. It was a light shower really, but it made her smile and giggle as if the water washed away all the worries she'd had.</s>
<\|description\|>Grace Whyte Alias: Hasn't decided yet Age: 15 Power/ Limitations: Water Manipulation -Can shape and manipulate water -Density manipulation/ water solidification -Is unable to create water, is limited to using existing sources. -Distance and the amount of matter depends on user's strength -Controlling and manipulating greater bodies is exhausting. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker Running his finger over the indentations in his watch, Kyle determined a little bit of time had passed since they first arrived in the gym. Personally, it didn't entirely matter how long it took, time was something he could work with and patience had become one of his best virtues. Suddenly voices lowered as the loud tapping of heels to wood echoed through the gym. Perfect timing, he closed his watch and listened intently as the heels came to a stop. "Good morning students, my name is Principal Nightingale, I know, it's a bit of a mouthful." A bit of a mouthful? Just how low were they setting their standards here? "That aside, some of you are no doubt wondering what you're doing here." He put a finger to his chin and thought over her words carefully, she sounded powerful, confident, informative, everything that a good principal would need, even in a school of supers. As she continued on, she explained to the students about what they were doing here, what the school was trying to accomplish, and of course, what their 'special class assignments' were. So they were grouping students into categories, well he was the literal definition of an elemental, so he'd most likely be grouped there, he wondered... "Kyle Parker, elementals." Speak of the devil... He made his way over to the group of students classified as elementals, most of them were conversing among other, either with close friends who were grouped with them or new students introducing themselves to others. Kyle of course, remained away from the group, closer to his silence, he wasn't exactly here to make friends. "Grace Whyte, elementals." He thought as much, her earlier display would make her an avid candidate in the elemental category. He sensed as her aura approached, well...he could only assume, but the vibrancy of it was soft, not nearly as timid or nervous as it was earlier. He sensed movement from her, just from one spot on her body, back and forth, was she waving. Looking in her direction he smiled a little to acknowledge her, "Nice to see you again, especially after such a long time," he grinned a little, a bit of teasing never hurt anyone and it might actually help her relax a little if she was still nervous.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte When Kyle looked over to her and waved back Grace blushed slightly at his words. "I'm sorry for running off on you earlier. I was… surprised a little I guess. I hadn't expected you to know I was there…" Maybe that was why she'd done it in the beginning, it had been a nice thing to do and she hadn't thought anything would have come from it. So when she had been forced to interact with someone it had caught her off guard. But now that she had a better idea of what to expect he wasn't nearly as intimidating especially since now she was fairly sure he couldn't read her mind. Once again her mind wondered to what exactly his powers may be, that allowed him to see her without sight like she had. Asking would have been easier, but it seemed a rude question to ask someone. Perhaps he had earth powers, or air could possibly work, either could be used to an extent to assist in sight. She supposed she would find out eventually regardless. The girl moved to say something else when the man whom they had been assigned to spoke up. He was a large man, tall and muscular. Grace thought he looked a little intimidating, but then again she felt that way about most people. In a way she was very much like water, preferring to move around obstacles instead of taking on things head on. "Alright Elementals. First off if anyone believes their placement was incorrect you should go and take it up with Nightingale now." His voice was loud, maybe a little too much so. And deep. It almost boomed really. Looking around Grace noticed no one seemed to have any arguments. Then again she didn't think this was a particularly hard group to place. "Very good. I am Mr Steele, I'll be your group advisor, so if anyone ever has any questions or concerns regarding powers I will do my best to help you. I'll also be your teacher for Power Theory and Practical. Practical will take place in the gym, Theory will be in room seventeen. Make sure to write it down on your schedules. Do we have any questions?" He looked out over the group and Grace lowered her eyes for a moment, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to herself.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker She seemed much more relaxed now than his first interaction with her not even twenty minutes ago, to Kyle, this was good; however. His brow crinkled slightly at her response, so he had startled her, he actually felt kind of bad for that. For what reason though? The whole thing was so inconsequential, and yet here he was feeling guilt for causing such a minor thing to escalate...well not escalate that might be taking it somewhat dramatically; regardless. "I apologize, I didn't mean to startle you with that. Knowing a person is there when I can't see them is just something that comes so naturally that I sometimes forget about it," he pondered this a bit, his finger rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "I suppose that's not really good, forgetting things like that," he smiled a bit weakly at that, but returned back to more a normal expression. She moved to speak once more until the rather large aura began to speak. His voice was loud and thunderous, actually it was a bit deafening, Kyle found himself digging in his ears afterwards to check his hearing. He told them what their classes were going to be, where, etc. all part of the orientation. When he asked for questions, Kyle remained silent as other students asked their general questions. He pretty much had an idea of what was to go down, but in all honesty, he just didn't care to ask any questions he never felt he needed to, everything else he'd find out eventually. Looking over to Grace, her aura had changed again, back to a nervous frequency. He sighed internally, this girl, how she could be so skittish knowing where she was going... No he couldn't judge her based on that, not everyone was like he was, cool, in control... Maybe it was time to return the favor, keeping his senses open and alert he used his cane to gently tap her foot. When he got her attention he gave her a reassuring smile, as if to say, "don't be nervous."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Feeling something tap on her foot Grace looked up to see Kyle smiling at her and she smiled gently in return. She knew she was too timid, people had often told her but she couldn't help it. She had always viewed attention as bad; because of the fear her powers may be discovered. However things were different here and she needed to remember that. There were probably other fears she could have in this new environment however she thought that the less thought she gave to them the less they'd bother her. Mr Steele suddenly spoke up again, catching her by surprise. "Alright then, you've got about ten minuted before your next class is supposed to start. Stay in the gym, but have some free time." "Can't help it." She whispered back, feeling safe in speaking now that they'd been dismissed. "I mean… what if I don't hold up against the others?" What if she was labelled the weak link? Smiling despite herself she shrugged slightly. I didn't really get to practice my powers a lot when I was younger… I guess I'm not that confident in myself." She shrugged slightly, thinking maybe she had said too much. Grace was aware that she sometimes spoke too much but smiled despite herself. "Sorry," She shrugged slightly. As before she found herself curious as to how his powers worked, how he saw and things like that but was much too polite to ask. So she instead chose to ask something else since she really didn't know much about him. "So do you have any siblings?" She paused for a moment but decided not to ask about his parents, since it could sometimes be a sensitive subject for people, especially people like them. "I don't have any myself, but I kind of always wanted one. It wouldn't have been as quiet growing up."</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He could feel her smile, but her aura remained almost entirely unchanged; what a timid girl. It wasn't too long after that Mr. Steele fired off again and Grace began to speak to him once more. "Can't help it." She whispered back, "I mean… what if I don't hold up against the others?" Oh man, her confidence was staggeringly low, "I didn't really get to practice my powers a lot when I was younger… I guess I'm not that confident in myself. Sorry"She paused for a bit before asking another question, "So do you have any siblings? I don't have any myself, but I kind of always wanted one. It wouldn't have been as quiet growing up." "No I...don't have siblings." His brow crinkled, something was eating him, she was changing the subject because she wasn't confident in herself. Damn it, he felt bad for her again, this girl was doing things to him, messing with his head, but that couldn't be the case, because no one could actually be that...that...shit... "Grace," he began, this was going to be a long one, "speaking honestly, I don't think you need to worry too much, I can guarantee you that most of the students here probably haven't had a lot chances to use their powers either, probably for safety reasons. You'll have your shining star or two, but from what I can gather already your water powers already seem to be at a good level. The thing you did earlier today, shielding me from the rain, it may not seem like much, but it was a lot of fast moving droplets of water, constantly showering an area, yet you were moving them out and down away from me consistently without faltering. Even as I approached you remained in the same state, not once did you try to catch your breath. Just based on that initial observation, and for what its worth" he leaned against the gym bleachers, nicely folded up for the school day activities, "I think you're going to outclass a lot of these chumps."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked to Kyle in surprise as he changed the topic on her again. However his words made her smile and a blush spread over her cheeks and she glanced down slightly in modesty, glad he couldn't see the red in her cheeks. "It… it was nothing really. I've done things like that tones of times before. I…" She took a small breath and looked up at his face still smiling gently and nodded slightly. "Thank you." No one had ever really said something like that to her about her powers. Then again there hadn't been much chance to now she thought about it. Maybe he was right. Maybe she needed to stop worrying so much. "But now you've got me a little curious. It was something I've been wondering for a little bit now, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to. But I was kind of wondering… what your powers were? And how you can see without really using your eyes like a lot of us have to." The girl dared to ask. She wouldn't hold it against him if he didn't want to tell her, but he just seemed so confident, despite everything. It gave her hope in a way; if he could be so sure of her then maybe she'd be able to be surer of herself too. She had never really thought her powers were anything special, but that was comparing herself to her mother and other supers… maybe her problem had just been that she'd been setting unrealistic goals and expectations of herself. Either way she decided there that she liked this guy, and could see being around him very beneficial for her. Hopefully he didn't mind if she hung around him.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker A wave of emotions flooded her aura, but the one thing he was really looking for, was for her to relax and that mad him smile; even more so when he could feel the heat from her cheeks. She tried to be modest about it at first, but eventually thanked him. He couldn't help but smile a little, for some reason, her smiling made him smile, it was...a good feeling, not one he felt often. It seemed like whatever he said boosted her confidence a little and made her relaxed enough to start asking about him and his powers. "Ah, I was wondering when that was going to be brought up," he raised his head up," ahhhh now where to begin... ok, so you know that most supers get their powers through genetics, via some form of mutation in them right? I'm something a little different, a little more wild so speak, but that might just be me being dramatic. My powers are the direct result of being a descendant of a fire elemental, in other words, I can control that element, produce it and extinguish it at will. As for my sight, because of my inherently magical nature, I have access to what's known as a 'mana source' and a power called 'mana'. Mana is a source of energy for all life, it flows and ebbs through everything, but is completely invisible to the naked eye, because of my source, I can sense that mana. While you might see me for what I am, whatever that may be, the way I see you is as this constantly flowing and waving source of colors. I can sense exactly where you are, what actions you're doing and," he smirked at this, "honestly your fiery red cheeks."</s>	<\|message\|>Grace Whyte "Oh…" Grace said, some of it making sense to her, some of it losing her a little. The whole mana thing was not a concept she was familiar with, he did a fairly good job explaining it. "I got my powers from my mum." She piped up quickly. "Elementals run in our family too, though she's more earth, so we're still not sure why I ended up with water… we figured it has something to do with natures, that certain elements just work better for certain natures." However when he mentioned that he could see her blushing Grace gasped slightly, dropping her gaze back to the ground and feeling her cheeks burning even fiercer. The girl was quiet for a few moments when someone else spoke up. "Aww look, isn't that cute? She's got a crush on the blind boy!" Gasping again Grace looked up and to the source of the voice. A girl who was a fair bit taller than her with dark brown hair and green eyes. "Look how red she is." "I… don't" Grace replied softly, her voice barely auditable. "What was that? You need to speak up, I didn't hear you?" "I said I don't…" She said, only a fraction louder, still not enough to be heard very well. Tears were now starting to well up in her eyes on top of it all and she took a few nervous steps away as the other girl advanced on her. She shook her head slightly. "Sorry sweetie still can't hear you." It wasn't entirely clear if her intent was malicious or not, she hadn't said anything outright mean, though she had invited herself into a private conversation. Either way it was making Grace uncomfortable and she began to look around for the quickest exit.</s>
<\|description\|>Grace Whyte Alias: Hasn't decided yet Age: 15 Power/ Limitations: Water Manipulation -Can shape and manipulate water -Density manipulation/ water solidification -Is unable to create water, is limited to using existing sources. -Distance and the amount of matter depends on user's strength -Controlling and manipulating greater bodies is exhausting. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker All of Kyle's morning classes followed the same pattern of introductions, the syllabus, and the rest of the period spent in free time. Philosophy was his only saving grace as they at least began asking some questions. Most of them were things he had already thought of during time with his father, but at least his classmates were thinking. That being said, Kyle's mind wandered towards other things; Grace, what an enigma. In just the short amount of time he had known her, she already had a profound effect on him, he enjoyed her company, respected her opinion and knew that deep down, there was power yet untapped. He had to wonder though if maybe, just maybe, if she were a true elemental descendant, that she too possessed a mana source and could tap into it. When lunch came, he'd have to bring it up with her, see what her thoughts were. The lunch bell finally rang and Kyle made his way to the cafeteria, keeping along with the flow of people also filing their way towards the same destination. He found it somewhat difficult to concentrate while moving in the crowd, but he was able to track Grace down in the crowd. She was just a little further ahead of him, but he was able to navigate through people before coming up behind her and tapping her shoulder. "I don't suppose you like tea, do you?" He asked inquisitively.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace was in line for food at the cafeteria when she felt someone tap on her shoulder and she turned quickly, looking surprised before she realised who it was and smiled gently. "Tea the meal or tea the beverage made of hot water and dried leaves?" She replied with a small laugh. "I like both. A very calming drink; tea." She contemplated for a moment. Honestly it wasn't a drink she had a lot, since she rarely drank anything else besides water for a number of reasons. It had a load of health benefits, was exceptionally calming for her, and having a drink bottle full of water was always comforting since she couldn't conjure water out of the air, but was limited to manipulating existing sources. That being said tea was still a nice drink. "Why is that?" Grace eventually asked. She doubted someone would have brought tea to school would they have? It didn't seem like a thing that was practical to bring to school. The line moved up slightly and Grace took a few steps with them. She wasn't overly keen on the whole school lunches thing, but she had forgotten to pack her own this morning so she was stuck with whatever the school was providing. It didn't look as bad as she'd heard they were supposed to be though.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker Grace's aura spiked for only a moment before the realization of who he was came to her and her body language relaxed; he simply smiled at her. Her answer had caught him off guard as his brain came to a halt, the gears eventually worked themselves out and he laughed along with her. Laughing, it wasn't something he experienced to often, but with Grace it came almost naturally, he wondered if her personality was having just as much of an effect on him as his was on her's. Eventually she ended up asking him, "why is that?" "Well, I happened to bring along an extra bag with me today and I thought you'd might like some," truthfully he was going to drink the second bag later in the afternoon, not that he was going to mention that bit to her. Just from his few encounters with her, she seemed like the type to enjoy calming things like tea. Admittedly there was an ulterior motive than just offering tea out of good will, he figured it would help her relax that much more, maybe get her to open up more and hear more of her tale. "I just need a container to heat it up in," sensing the area he found a stack of Styrofoam cups, "perfect, I'll go save a couple of seats." Making his way around her and out of line he snagged a couple of cups, just for good measure. He sensed around the entire cafeteria, pinpointing an area that would be out of the way and din the noise a little. Cafeterias were good for meeting up with people you wanted to meet up with, but for a new coming loner like Kyle and the timid personality Grace had, he figured secluded would be better. Eventually finding a more out of the way spot he made his way there and secured it, propping his bag in the place where Grace would sit. Satisfied, he pulled out the tea bags from his pack, including a ceramic mug he had brought from home and sat down in the empty space across his backpack, awaiting Grace's arrival.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Smiling happily Grace shook her head slightly, despite herself. "Thank you, but I'm fine really…" She trailed off as he began looking around for containers and moved off, saying he was going to go save her a seat. Tilting her head slightly the girl wondered to herself. He was certainly a strange one, Kyle. Maybe that was why she liked him. He didn't seem like the others around here. The entire time she'd seen him he hadn't seemed all that interested in anyone else. He hadn't gone out of his way to speak to anyone else that she'd seen. As the line moved Grace eventually collected her lunch and made her way over to where the boy was sitting over in a corner away from the busyness of the cafeteria and walked over to him. He had his bag placed on the seat opposite him and she paused for a moment. She assumed it was a seat for her, but at the same didn't want to go touching his things without permission. "You know… if you wanted me to sit with you… you just had to ask." She said softly as a thought occurred to her and she looked at him curiously. "Kyle… do you mind if I ask you a question?" Grace on, still standing there unsure exactly to in the situation. "I mean you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. I was just wondering… how you grew up I suppose?" She said, trying to figure out how to word it properly. "I mean… did you go to school like normal kids or were you home schooled? Did you have any friends?"</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker It didn't take Grace too long afterwards for her to meet up with Kyle, he waited patiently for her to sit, but after noticing how her aura was reacting, he raised an eyebrow. "You know... if you wanted me to sit with you... you just had to ask." Suddenly it felt like a pit opened up in his gut and he suddenly felt like an ass, completely assuming that Grace was just going to come over and sit with him. But... "I apologize," he started, "I guess I just thought after our talk before class that we would..." "Kyle… do you mind if I ask you a question?" Grace asked him, in a tone that implied she was going to ask her question anyway "I mean you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. I was just wondering… how you grew up I suppose?" She said, trying to figure out how to word it properly. "I mean… did you go to school like normal kids or were you home schooled? Did you have any friends?" "huh..." that was a bit of a curveball, "well um...first, would you like to sit with me?" He said this while plopping the tea bags in their separate cups and began preparing them. At this point, he didn't think there was a reason for her to say no, even though assuming is what got him feeling like this in the first place. He grabbed his backpack, allowing Grace to sit, from there he pulled a water bottle from the pack and filled both cups with water. Using the remaining water he poured it on his hands, washing them and heat drying before sticking just the tip of his pinky in each cup and instant heating both to perfect drinkable temperatures. He passed the Styrofoam cup of tea to Grace before taking a sip of his own and telling his tale. "My father is an influential businessman, an investor in projects, among other things and my mother, she was the reason why I have my powers. She is no longer among us, but my father, he is the one who helped me develop my powers further. Early on in my youth I had a difficult time controlling my powers, he trained with me, nearly night and day, to meditate, contemplate, project myself into the cosmos." He took another drink before looking at Grace, "When I had more of a reign on my powers and I was more...contemplative, my father mostly left me to my own devices. He has caretakers who watch over me and tutor me, but for most of my life I lived in a peaceful seclusion, my only real contact with the outside world, to be honest, was whenever my father would allow me to accompany him to work." He took another drink of his tea, pausing to allow everything to settle in, "All in all, I think I grew up well."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked at him for a moment as he apologised and she simply smiled and giggled slightly. Perhaps they were not so different. "No no… I just meant next time you don't have to go to the effort of offering me some kind of incentive to sit with you. Nothing so fancy as tea." She tried to clarify as she sat down with him once he moved his bag. She guessed they were still in that early stages of friendship where they were still getting to know each other, so it was to be expected that there would be misunderstandings like this. Well at least she hoped they were in the early stages of friendship. Placing her tray on the table she listened to his story, both interested and surprised by some of it. "I see…" There was a sad note in her voice now, something maybe close to pity… sympathy. You'll have to forgive me for saying… but it sounds awfully lonely." She supposed she was one to talk, so figured that maybe an explanation was due. "It may be hard to believe… but I wasn't always so shy and timid. I used to have friends." Her tone became slightly sadder at this, longing. She missed her old friends. "It was early middle school I think. One of my friends had a bit of a mouth on him, and it got him into a lot of trouble sometimes. Onetime he said the wrong thing to the wrong guy and got into a physical fight, which the other guy was winning. He was hurting my friend and… I got mad. Really mad. I'd never taken control of a person before that day… and haven't since then. Up until that point I didn't even know it was a thing I could do, though since there is so much water in the body I guess I can understand it." She paused for a moment, sipping on her tea lightly. "It scared him. Scared me. I had to change schools because of that. After that incident though I was always that little bit afraid that something else would make me mad and I'd do to them what I did to that boy. It's not something I ever want to do to a person again. My friends didn't talk to me after that, even though I was in a different school there were ways they could have contacted me. But they didn't. I don't blame them I guess I wouldn't like it if I knew my friend had been keeping a secret like that from me." Freak had been the word of choice but it wasn't one she liked repeating.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He listened to her story, quietly, intently. While his story had been met with some form of sympathy, he simply brushed it off, he didn't desire it, because he didn't need to. Her story, however, showed him that they lived practically polar opposite childhoods and it confirmed one thing for him; she had power. Enough power to even take over an unwilling being, if only she knew what true water elementals could do. "My father once told me, that born, blessed, or cursed, once we have our powers, it has become a part of who we are." Kyle looked to Grace "You had an accident, you lost control, it happens, and unfortunately those around you were unable to understand it." He remained quiet for a bit, choosing his next words carefully. "Grace, I'm sorry for what happened to you, but...don't be afraid of who you are and what powers you possess. You're a good person at heart, I can tell that and I have no reason to fear you, even with your level of power." He sipped at his tea again, he could tell stories to Grace about the times he's lost control of his powers, how he's nearly burned down more things than he could count. Kyle's face became somewhat sullen at the thoughts.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked at him in surprise. She had never really thought about it that, always assuming she had been afraid of other people. But maybe he was right, though he hadn't said it in so many words; maybe she was afraid of herself and her powers. Maybe that was why she shied away from so many people. However it was the last sentence that made her look up in surprise, her brow furrowed in confusion. However after a few moments she simply shook her head and tried to laugh it off. "My level of power? No. You must be mistaken." Her power was just like everyone else, only that it was water based rather than the other kids. She wasn't any more powerful than the next person. That made no sense. She was sure everyone got angry and lost control and had things happen they were never able to recreate, either by choice or simply because they were unable to. "I'm no more special than anyone else." She assured him, looking back down at her cup of tea and frowning again. Kyla had lived his entire life on his own anyway; he'd never had other people to compare to just like she had. How could he possibly know how powerful a person was or wasn't? Especially when he'd seen so little of her powers being used?</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He smirked slightly, "Grace, I think you underestimate yourself." While it was true that he had seen little display of her power, he just had this...feeling that she had more potential than she was letting on. Her story about controlling that one person proved at least that she had the potential, if nothing else, at least to Kyle, it didn't seem like a story anyone would just make up. Perhaps he was getting a bit ahead of himself though. He smiled and relaxed his posture a little, "I suppose it really doesn't matter right now though, how powerful we are, after all we're just students trying to learn, leave the heroics to the professionals right?"</s>	<\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace smiled slightly at the boy's words and gave him a look. Exactly what kind of look she gave him she wasn't sure, but she supposed it didn't matter either way because he couldn't see her face. "Maybe I do…" The girl pondered aloud as she rubbed her finger on the cup in her hands, bringing it to her lips and sipping gently. He had her really thinking now. What if she was powerful? What would that even mean for her? She still wasn't sure what she wanted to do with her life. Being a super hero just seemed… too out of character for her. It didn't feel right. Did the magnitude of her power open up new opportunities for her? Turning back as Kyle spoke she smiled again, nodding slightly. "I suppose so…" She said, her voice clearly indicating that her thoughts were now on other things. "Do you know what you want to do with your life yet?" She asked eventually, turning back to look at him, thinking it was rude to just sit there quietly and not really add to the conversation. That and she wondered if maybe his answer may help her find some kind of direction in some way.</s>
<\|description\|>Kyle Parker Alias: N/A Age:16 Powers/limitations: Elemental Heritage (fire) -Naturally immune to fire attacks -Can naturally produce fire and heat using a mana source. -weak to water and cold attacks Curse of Rage -drastically increases fire abilities at the cost of succumbing to his fury. -curse is kept in check by magical seal created by his father. -severely drains mana source after use, long cool down. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte The sun began streaming in through the window, the light hitting Grace in the face and causing it to scrunch up before she opened her eyes reluctantly and rolled over, lying on her back and placing her hands behind her head as she stared at the ceiling. Today was her first day of high school. It was still taking a little while for that fact to sink in, it seemed like just yesterday her and her mother were moving in even though it was more like ten or so years ago now, right before she'd started primary school. Truth be told she hadn't thought about it much until now. Glancing over at her clock Grace sighed, realising she had a lot of time to fill before school was even close to starting now. Sliding out of bed she walked over to the large fish tank in her room, kneeling down and watching the small collection of guppies swimming around. "Morning guys." She said, still staring at them. After a few moments, however she sighed and stood up. "Still not talking to me hu?" Grace had always been slightly hopeful that, along with her water powers, she would have developed the ability to talk to marine creatures. To this day she'd had no such luck. Walking into the bathroom she also checked her neck for gills, another hopeful wish of hers. Though she was aware by now she'd probably developed all the powers she was going to she still liked to hope. She took a fairly long shower, seeing as she had a lot of time to spare and then went back to her room. She quickly closed her blinds and got dressed before heading downstairs. The house was quiet and still; meaning her mother still hadn't gotten back from her most recent crime fighting endeavours or she had gotten back rather late and was just asleep upstairs sleeping. Grace set about making herself some breakfast and sat down in the living room, turning on the TV and flipping to a channel that had cartoons. She did pause briefly on a news channel where her mother was fighting off some crazy bug lady. Obviously the result of last night's call out. However it was quickly over and she flicked over to cartoons. It wasn't that Grace was an overly childish person, she just enjoyed watching cartoons, mostly anime, which was often directed at an older audience anyway. They often had better plot than anything else that was on anyway.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker A void surrounded him, emptiness, nothingness, then something. A bright flash, the laughter of children, a lover's whisper. The elements sang, sang hymns of nature and solace, of war and chaos. Water and fire danced with one another, swirling in the emptiness, blissful. The elements were speaking to him, but he could not understand them, their words were blurred by the inferno suddenly engulfing him and then- "Master Parker," the unnaturally deep voice suddenly forcing him back to reality, broke the trance he was in, but the void remained, blackness enveloped his world once more. "Master Parker, it is time to wake and begin preparations for the day ahead." Kyle had already been awake for quite some time already, he had actually taken upon the opportunity to meditate and reflect upon the universe a skill he was taught early on by his father. Though Kyle knew how to project himself, his father knew that and more, even telling tales of delving into the far reaches of the astral plane, where only the pantheons would know what damnable beasts lurked in that darkness. That, however...was a story for another time. "Can I not be allowed five minutes more of silence to explore my mind further?" Kyle asked calmly. "Your father has expressed...great interest in your activity today, he would be most displeased to learn that you did not attend for...unjustifiable reasons." One of his father's creations, a soul bound to an autonomous being, a rather large thing, but with the patience and class of a professional 'care taker'. Supposedly it was made to look completely real, though the one time Kyle had looked upon his caretaker he was overcome with an insatiable rage and woke up hours later in his bed. Truthfully, he couldn't really make an opinion of it even if he wanted to. That being said, the automaton was completely right, though the activity mentioned was really just day one of a four year trip through high school; he wasn't looking forward to it. "I suppose you are right," he sighed, unfolding his legs and lifting himself up from the cushion he had chosen for his session. He moved forward, each step carefully memorized, he easily navigated his way over to what he knew was his mirror. He stared into what he knew was his reflection and it stared back, both completely unknowing as to what the other looked like. His eyes were closed, forced shut really, though it felt completely natural to Kyle at this point it was a side effect of the seal placed upon him. The seal was there to keep the curse at bay... "how many years has it been?" The thought echoed ".... Since birth, that's right," he'd nearly forgotten. The curse was something he was born with, it made it so that anything he looked upon would send him into a blinding rage, his powers improved drastically, but the destruction was...absolute. The seal was there to prevent him from destroying anything and everything, and so he stared into nothingness, emptiness, the void. He breathed in deeply, he had always dreamed that he would be able to open his eyes and see something without the rage overcoming him. Slowly as the years passed by, he realized that such a dream may never come true, it was something he had accepted, though hope flickered from time to time. Ah well... c'est la vie. He turned his head towards the automaton, "Prepare some breakfast and set out some clean clothes, I'm going to take a shower." "As you wish, Master Parker," the large creature stepped back into the hall closing the door behind him. Kyle turned his head back towards the mirror, he stared into the void, and it stared back.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Stretching out with a yawn and a small sigh Grace stood, taking her bowl over to the sink in the kitchen and rinsing it out before placing it in the dishwasher. Looking out the kitchen window she thought for a moment she saw some movement in the house next door, but by the time she looked it was already gone. It was always so dark over there, the curtains always drawn. Compared to her own house, which was always open, bright, warm and airy it seemed a sad way of life even though she had been taught never to judge someone without knowing their story. She didn't even know who or what kind of people lived there. Going around the house Grace made sure that everything was closed up and locked before she gathered her bag and her house keys, locking the front door behind her she began making her way down the street to the bus stop. It had rained last night, so everything was glistening with water and puddles covered the ground. She reached out, letting her hands brush against the plants as she passed, small water droplets transferring onto her hand or falling onto the ground. She always loved the smell of everything after it had rained. It smelt fresher, cleaner. Gray clouds still hung overhead, meaning they may even get more rain later. The girl felt, needless to say, most at home when she was surrounded by water. Smiling to herself she jumped up onto a small brick wall that was the fence to someone's yard and began walking along it with her arms outstretched to the sides. It was only a short walk to the bus stop, but she always tried to enjoy it as much as possible. If the school had been closer she would have been happy to walk or even ride a bike. The bus itself was not the most pleasant of places. Kids there were always so crude. She herself had been called immature plenty of times, but at least she still acted intelligent, she just enjoyed childish things. Whereas most people her age acted like idiots most of the time and she highly doubted it was out of choice, believe they truly didn't know any better. Up ahead there was a large puddle and Grace smiled, running a short ways before jumping off the low brick wall and into the puddle, splashing water in all directions and giggling happily to herself. There was just something about jumping in puddles that made her laugh.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He turned the water knob, the hot one only, and steaming water came running out, as the tub filled he removed his clothing and when it filled he tested the waters. A small smile made its way upon his lips, the temperature would have been way too hot for anyone else to handle, but to Kyle this was just right...though it could probably use a little more heat. He stepped into the water, and lowered himself in, calling upon his mana he breathed in deeply and exhaled, allowing his body temperature to heat up the water from scalding hot to boiling, literally. Easing himself in, he sighed, his muscles greatly enjoyed the intense heat and his lungs filled up with the steaming air. To him, this was Nirvana, and he would take as much time as he could to enjoy it. Time passed and after feeling satisfied, he stepped out from the water, drained the tub and toweled off. He made his way back to his room and towards his bed... his clothes were there, perfect. Dressing himself, he wandered near the window and pulled back the curtain ever so slightly and stared in the direction of the house next to his. He didn't know what it looked like, but every so often he'd... sense, the vibrancy of the house, a latent talent to having a mana source, a form of innate six sense. He couldn't identify what an object was or who a person was, but he could sense the presence of the being, the movements being made and the emotions being felt. There was always something about that house that felt...different, like it was lighter in comparison to his own, maybe it was the presences he felt inside, but there was usually a sense of joy coming from that house. Speaking of which, a presence made itself known, he couldn't tell what it was doing exactly, though it was something with their hands based on the movement. A glimmer, the presence shifted where it was looking and Kyle receded back from the window, he didn't want to provoke unwanted attention, especially with the kind of person his father was. A smell wafted its way into his room, finishing dressing he made his way downstairs to eat his breakfast, then afterwards his caretaker would drive him to school.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Standing on the street corner Grace waited for the bus, her hands clasped behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels, humming to herself. An odd bubbly feeling in her stomach made itself known. Nerves. Butterflies beating themselves against the walls of her gut. Of course she was nervous. During primary and middle school she had been attending with normal humans. All her friends had been there, since most other like her had been… well like her and kept their abilities hidden from others. Now she was entering this new school with people she didn't know all with super powers like her. What if she didn't match up? What if they laughed at her? What if no one liked her? Reaching into her bag she took out her water bottle and took a long drink, the water usually helping to calm her nerves. She noticed the bus approaching and raised her hand to signal for it to stop and quickly climbed aboard. Looking down the aisle she quickly selected a seat with no one currently occupying it and made a beeline for it, sitting down and keeping her vision straight. If she didn't look at anyone then she couldn't offend. If she didn't offend no one would be tempted to beat the snot out of her. The reasonable and rational side of her tried to assure her that no one was going to beat her up because she looked at them funny. But the side of her that watched too many teenage movies told her to fear everyone and everything. The ride was only short, luckily, and no one decided to sit next to her. Grace was certain she looked as scared as she felt. It was strange too because she wasn't usually one to be so nervous. Once the bus arrived at the school she sat patiently, waiting for everyone else to get off before she did so as to avoid getting in anyone's way. Picking up her bag he quickly disembarked and stopped for a moment, looking up at the building. It looked just like any other school really. As she stood there she felt a small drop of water, then another and another before the heavens opened up and started raining down upon them. It was a light shower really, but it made her smile and giggle as if the water washed away all the worries she'd had.</s>	<\|message\|>Kyle Parker At the door Kyle tied up his shoes, standing he went to retrieve the two things that openly signified his blindness, his sunglasses and his cane. This was probably the one thing he detested the most, not because he was embarrassed to use them, but because it gave the wrong impression of him. His father encouraged the misinterpretation, he told him it was a weakness he could exploit. Begrudgingly he put on the sunglasses, the frame and lenses wrapping around his head so they completely blocked out his eyes and picked up the cane. Turning and waiting patiently, the caretaker approached and opened the door leading the way for Kyle as he followed behind, before being ushered into the backseat of the car. The car's interior felt nice, smooth leather, with the kind of work his father did, Kyle knew he was well off, more so than most others. The car ride itself was pretty uneventful, the caretaker spoke only when he needed to and never made conversation, though Kyle more than preferred it this way. Quiet was a great escape for him, it brought him back to the void of his mind where he could project himself, explore himself, think and drink deeply from the fruits of knowledge. It was the subtle pattering of rainfall that brought him out of his thoughts once more and he stared in the direction of the window, facing the moving world. Everything he sensed was nothing more than brief flickers, he had no idea what was going on out there, only that something was happening. The fast moving world suddenly slowed though and the car brought itself to a stop. "Wait one moment, Master Parker," The caretaker spoke, slow and deep. "That won't be necessary, caretaker," he replied reaching for the door handle. "Your father insists upon it..." Kyle's hand falters for a just a moment before retreating back into his lap, "Proceed." The caretaker nodded to Kyle so slow, he wasn't sure if the caretaker had moved at all. Exiting the vehicle, the caretaker made his way around the car to open Kyle's door, stepping aside so as to let Kyle pass through. Sighing to himself, Kyle exits the vehicle.</s>
<\|description\|>Kyle Parker Alias: N/A Age:16 Powers/limitations: Elemental Heritage (fire) -Naturally immune to fire attacks -Can naturally produce fire and heat using a mana source. -weak to water and cold attacks Curse of Rage -drastically increases fire abilities at the cost of succumbing to his fury. -curse is kept in check by magical seal created by his father. -severely drains mana source after use, long cool down. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker The rain pattered on Kyle, only for it to instantly evaporate on contact with his skin, rainwater wasn't really a bother for him, though it was unusual for rain to suddenly stop in one spot yet continue everywhere else. Looking up he sensed the water sort of...just sliding away from him, not hitting anything, just moving away from him, as if they were curtains parting open for him. Kyle looked to his caretaker, who had already worked out Kyle's distress. "A young girl Master Parker, I believe she is the cause." "Hm..." he looked up at the sliding water then towards the energy of the girl, there was activity, "water manipulation?" "That would be the most plausible assumption." Unusual that someone would just go out of their way for some complete stranger, it made Kyle feel somewhat paranoid, "The question is...what's her angle?" "You are asking me a question as to speculate upon a specific situation, this is something I cannot do." "I'm more than well aware, caretaker..." he calmly stated before beginning to ponder thoughtfully on his situation. "However..." the caretaker spoke, taking Kyle slightly aback, "if any word were to be used to describe her actions, it would be kindness." "Kindness? ...heh," that wasn't a word he was used to, it was...unusual that someone would just go out of their way like that simply just out of a sense of kindness, but the words the caretaker uses are always thougtful, the caretaker contemplated it deeply to even have had a sense of a word. To pick kindness though... "Very well then, I think that will be all caretaker," Kyle nodded slowly and the caretaker did so back before they parted ways. Kyle's cane scraped along the ground, tapping here and there to identify obstacles that were new and unusual to him. That being said, he really didn't ever need to use the cane, his sense abilities were already more than enough to compensate, but the cane was for appearances. After all, who knows, maybe a girl who would do something out of kindness, completely at random, could be used to his benefit. That...however, would have to be determined later down the road, if she was to even follow him down that road at all. As he moved, he couldn't help but notice the manipulation area move along with him, until it dispersed as he made his way underneath the covering. He stood in front of the girl, though he couldn't see what she actually looked like, he could sense that she was...vibrant. Kindness....perhaps the caretaker's words do hold true. Kyle looked in her general direction and smiled, "Thank you for helping me out there, that was nice of you," then he introduced himself, "my name is Kyle, Kyle Parker."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace waited until the boy got under cover and was about to turn and leave, in quite a hurry, she may add. However stopped for a moment when she looked at him properly. It almost looked like he was looking at her… but that made no sense. It was only in her general direction but it was her general direction! And he smiled at her! He was blind… how did he know where she was? And then it occurred to her that she was at a school for people with powers. She wasn't sure what his were exactly, but they were helping him to navigate whatever they were. And then he thanked her and once again she was thrown into a nervous confusion. How did he know? Maybe he could red minds. Maybe he was reading her mind right now and was thinking how much of an idiot she was. Regardless it would have been rude of her to not say anything at all now that he had introduced himself. "G-Grace." She stumbled for a moment, her voice a little shaky. Grace was kind and bubbly in her own right, but she was also very shy and nervous around people she didn't know. "Don't mention it, with the water thing, really. I'm sure mostly anyone would have done the same thing… maybe." She once again nibbled at her lip and took her water bottle out again, taking another sip. It was a nervous habit of hers, since water always seemed to have a calming effect on her and it wasn't like she was able to just take some water out and start playing with it to calm herself down. Well not until now that was. She wasn't sure on the school's policy about using powers for personal reasons during class. "I um…" As if it had read her mind and had swooped in to save her the bell rung and she let out an internal sigh of relief. "I have to go, sorry. Class and… and stuff. Don't want to be late on my first day." She turned and walked away for as long as she thought she could get away with before picking up the pace to a run, taking off down the hall, which was rather wet and slippery. Instantly the playfulness came out in her and she moved to freeze the water and began sliding along the hall, making sure to return it to the less dangerous water state behind her.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker Kyle's eyebrow raised itself slightly, her vibrancy was changing, almost shaking, was she frightened? Her voice finally responded after a long moment of hesitation, "G-Grace." Ah, she was nervous, that was...completely understandable. She accepted his thanks timidly, even though his ears were used more than his eyes, he actually had a hard time catching the last bits of it as it drowned out. judging by her voice, she sounded young, around his age, along with her 'demonstration' she had powers, meaning she was some kind of super, like him. The sound of a water bottle being opened, sipped, then closed brought him out of his brief thoughts. "I um..." she started, before the bell rang and she quickly excused herself before walking, then running into the building. Kyle stood standing there, staring at the direction she ran off too, somewhat confused at the sudden departure. Perhaps he had frightened her unintentionally....right the blind thing, and yet he knew exactly where she was to begin with, that wasn't his fault...his caretaker told him about her to begin with. He shrugged, really he couldn't be bothered with this, it was a first chance encounter and it didn't end exceptionally well, end of story, move on. Out of everything said, the girl had at least one bit of useful information, it was time to get to class and NOT be late on the first day. Whistling ever so softly he began to move forward, tapping his cane against the wall every so often as he began memorizing the layout of the building whilst making his way to his first class.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace managed to find her way to her first class without much trouble, the building was fairly well set out, and there was a map attached to the back of her schedule. As she moved to sit at a desk a thought occurred to her and as she sat down she slammed her head onto the table. She was an idiot. An absolute total ditz. She'd just left a blind kid on his own to find his way around. This was not the best way for her to start the year. She tried to reassure herself that maybe it would be alright. She had no idea who that kid was; maybe he had already been here before and was in a year above her. Either way she felt sick again. Maybe someone here had time powers and could take her back to this morning before she got on the bus so she could do everything over again. That'd be perfect. A woman walked in, looking slightly flustered and busy and Grace smiled despite herself, glad the new year wasn't hard on just the students. "Good morning class, good morning. This is home room, my name is Miss Glimmer… I'll be your home room supervisor. I'm also the head of the arts department." She set some papers onto the desk and skimmed through them. "Oh yes, freshman need to go to the gym for specialised class assignments." Grace frowned slightly, not sure what exactly 'specialised class assignments' were. But she figured she'd find out what it was all about when she got there. Standing along with a dozen other confused looking students Grace followed along, checking the map on the back of her schedule again to make sure she was going the right way. Meeting up with the rest of her year she stood just on the outskirts of the group, waiting for something to happen.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker The bells resounded throughout the hall before falling silent once more. "Damn, guess I am going to be late," Kyle thought, a dry chuckle erupting from his throat. Ah well, he knew damn well he could get away with it this one time, he was, by all legal definition, blind. His right hand ran along the wall, and his cane skittered across the floor, tapping the wall every so often. Often times the walls were bare, but he'd come to a row of lockers or a room door, his hand brushing against the room number and the tiny indentations in braille. He'd already memorized which side had even numbers and which side had odds, so all he had to do was find the right floor, the right side, then he'd be golden. It wasn't too long after the second bell that he found which room he was assigned for homeroom. The door was closed and he tapped on the window pane in the door, requesting that he might enter, a voice replied from the other side, signalling him to enter. "Can I help you, young man?" The voice was male, older, sophisticated, something Kyle could work with. "My name is Kyle Parker, sir, I'm assigned to this homeroom." The sound of papers shuffling preceded the response, "Ah yes, Mr. Parker, thank you for finally joining us, I trust your tardiness won't happen often?" "Of course not sir, just need to memorize the building first," he smiled. "Very well then, as for introductions my name is Dr. Barthandulus, I am the head of the science department as well as your homeroom teacher. You can remain standing Parker, we'll find you a seat afterwards." "Afterwards?" Kyle thought. Papers shuffled once more before the teacher spoke, "alright class, everyone is to head to the gym immediately for special class assignments, let's go." The sound of chairs sliding out from under desks resonated throughout the classroom as the dozen or so students, Kyle included, all made their way to the gym. The Doctor asked Kyle if he needed any assistance, but was met with a smile and a head shake no, stating that he was perfectly fine. This was good though, something his father would have expected of him, he smiled somewhat devilishly, but quickly masked his expression as they approached the gym. When inside he stood towards the back of the group and waited patiently for their 'special class assignments', whatever that entailed.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace wondered how long they had been waiting, though honestly it could have only been a few minutes. Finally a figure walked in, a woman though she looked very different to her home room teacher. This woman seemed powerful; she walked very upright with her shoulders held back and her head high. Her hair was dark brown and tied in a tight bun behind her head and she carried a clipboard in her arms. "Good morning students, my name is Principal Nightingale, I know, it's a bit of a mouthful. That aside, some of you are no doubt wondering what you're doing here." She smiled and Grace decided she liked her; she seemed like a gentle person. "Well, our school is obviously not like a lot of other school in the district. You'll find some normal classes but we also have a range of classes specifically aimed at our unique conditions. However with the wide variety of powers we encounter amongst our students we have learnt it is best to divide you into classes with those most similar to you, so as to specialise the class so that you may gain the most out of the experience." She paused for a moment and just looked at them. Grace wondered what she was doing before she looked back to the clipboard. "So when I read your name please move off to your corresponding teacher who will have an ability similar to your group. During your enrolment we were informed of your powers, so as to have time to plan what groupings would work best with your year, however if you feel like you may be better fitted in another power grouping feel free to come speak with me after everyone has been placed." And with that she began reading off names, in alphabetical order which made Grace sigh. She would be one of the last to be called. Stupid alphabetical order. "Kyle Parker, elementals." Just over half the group had been divided but Grace perked up when she heard that name. She knew that name. Looking around she noticed the boy from this morning. Elementals? He was like her? Or at least like enough to her that they should be paired in the same group. The main group continued to get smaller and smaller and her name was finally called, second last. "Grace Whyte, elementals." Standing the girl walked over to the group, once again standing on the outskirts. Looking over at Kyle she smiled and waved shyly, a small gesture to hopefully show she felt bad for running off on him this morning.</s>	<\|message\|>Kyle Parker Running his finger over the indentations in his watch, Kyle determined a little bit of time had passed since they first arrived in the gym. Personally, it didn't entirely matter how long it took, time was something he could work with and patience had become one of his best virtues. Suddenly voices lowered as the loud tapping of heels to wood echoed through the gym. Perfect timing, he closed his watch and listened intently as the heels came to a stop. "Good morning students, my name is Principal Nightingale, I know, it's a bit of a mouthful." A bit of a mouthful? Just how low were they setting their standards here? "That aside, some of you are no doubt wondering what you're doing here." He put a finger to his chin and thought over her words carefully, she sounded powerful, confident, informative, everything that a good principal would need, even in a school of supers. As she continued on, she explained to the students about what they were doing here, what the school was trying to accomplish, and of course, what their 'special class assignments' were. So they were grouping students into categories, well he was the literal definition of an elemental, so he'd most likely be grouped there, he wondered... "Kyle Parker, elementals." Speak of the devil... He made his way over to the group of students classified as elementals, most of them were conversing among other, either with close friends who were grouped with them or new students introducing themselves to others. Kyle of course, remained away from the group, closer to his silence, he wasn't exactly here to make friends. "Grace Whyte, elementals." He thought as much, her earlier display would make her an avid candidate in the elemental category. He sensed as her aura approached, well...he could only assume, but the vibrancy of it was soft, not nearly as timid or nervous as it was earlier. He sensed movement from her, just from one spot on her body, back and forth, was she waving. Looking in her direction he smiled a little to acknowledge her, "Nice to see you again, especially after such a long time," he grinned a little, a bit of teasing never hurt anyone and it might actually help her relax a little if she was still nervous.</s>
<\|description\|>Kyle Parker Alias: N/A Age:16 Powers/limitations: Elemental Heritage (fire) -Naturally immune to fire attacks -Can naturally produce fire and heat using a mana source. -weak to water and cold attacks Curse of Rage -drastically increases fire abilities at the cost of succumbing to his fury. -curse is kept in check by magical seal created by his father. -severely drains mana source after use, long cool down. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker She seemed much more relaxed now than his first interaction with her not even twenty minutes ago, to Kyle, this was good; however. His brow crinkled slightly at her response, so he had startled her, he actually felt kind of bad for that. For what reason though? The whole thing was so inconsequential, and yet here he was feeling guilt for causing such a minor thing to escalate...well not escalate that might be taking it somewhat dramatically; regardless. "I apologize, I didn't mean to startle you with that. Knowing a person is there when I can't see them is just something that comes so naturally that I sometimes forget about it," he pondered this a bit, his finger rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "I suppose that's not really good, forgetting things like that," he smiled a bit weakly at that, but returned back to more a normal expression. She moved to speak once more until the rather large aura began to speak. His voice was loud and thunderous, actually it was a bit deafening, Kyle found himself digging in his ears afterwards to check his hearing. He told them what their classes were going to be, where, etc. all part of the orientation. When he asked for questions, Kyle remained silent as other students asked their general questions. He pretty much had an idea of what was to go down, but in all honesty, he just didn't care to ask any questions he never felt he needed to, everything else he'd find out eventually. Looking over to Grace, her aura had changed again, back to a nervous frequency. He sighed internally, this girl, how she could be so skittish knowing where she was going... No he couldn't judge her based on that, not everyone was like he was, cool, in control... Maybe it was time to return the favor, keeping his senses open and alert he used his cane to gently tap her foot. When he got her attention he gave her a reassuring smile, as if to say, "don't be nervous."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Feeling something tap on her foot Grace looked up to see Kyle smiling at her and she smiled gently in return. She knew she was too timid, people had often told her but she couldn't help it. She had always viewed attention as bad; because of the fear her powers may be discovered. However things were different here and she needed to remember that. There were probably other fears she could have in this new environment however she thought that the less thought she gave to them the less they'd bother her. Mr Steele suddenly spoke up again, catching her by surprise. "Alright then, you've got about ten minuted before your next class is supposed to start. Stay in the gym, but have some free time." "Can't help it." She whispered back, feeling safe in speaking now that they'd been dismissed. "I mean… what if I don't hold up against the others?" What if she was labelled the weak link? Smiling despite herself she shrugged slightly. I didn't really get to practice my powers a lot when I was younger… I guess I'm not that confident in myself." She shrugged slightly, thinking maybe she had said too much. Grace was aware that she sometimes spoke too much but smiled despite herself. "Sorry," She shrugged slightly. As before she found herself curious as to how his powers worked, how he saw and things like that but was much too polite to ask. So she instead chose to ask something else since she really didn't know much about him. "So do you have any siblings?" She paused for a moment but decided not to ask about his parents, since it could sometimes be a sensitive subject for people, especially people like them. "I don't have any myself, but I kind of always wanted one. It wouldn't have been as quiet growing up."</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He could feel her smile, but her aura remained almost entirely unchanged; what a timid girl. It wasn't too long after that Mr. Steele fired off again and Grace began to speak to him once more. "Can't help it." She whispered back, "I mean… what if I don't hold up against the others?" Oh man, her confidence was staggeringly low, "I didn't really get to practice my powers a lot when I was younger… I guess I'm not that confident in myself. Sorry"She paused for a bit before asking another question, "So do you have any siblings? I don't have any myself, but I kind of always wanted one. It wouldn't have been as quiet growing up." "No I...don't have siblings." His brow crinkled, something was eating him, she was changing the subject because she wasn't confident in herself. Damn it, he felt bad for her again, this girl was doing things to him, messing with his head, but that couldn't be the case, because no one could actually be that...that...shit... "Grace," he began, this was going to be a long one, "speaking honestly, I don't think you need to worry too much, I can guarantee you that most of the students here probably haven't had a lot chances to use their powers either, probably for safety reasons. You'll have your shining star or two, but from what I can gather already your water powers already seem to be at a good level. The thing you did earlier today, shielding me from the rain, it may not seem like much, but it was a lot of fast moving droplets of water, constantly showering an area, yet you were moving them out and down away from me consistently without faltering. Even as I approached you remained in the same state, not once did you try to catch your breath. Just based on that initial observation, and for what its worth" he leaned against the gym bleachers, nicely folded up for the school day activities, "I think you're going to outclass a lot of these chumps."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked to Kyle in surprise as he changed the topic on her again. However his words made her smile and a blush spread over her cheeks and she glanced down slightly in modesty, glad he couldn't see the red in her cheeks. "It… it was nothing really. I've done things like that tones of times before. I…" She took a small breath and looked up at his face still smiling gently and nodded slightly. "Thank you." No one had ever really said something like that to her about her powers. Then again there hadn't been much chance to now she thought about it. Maybe he was right. Maybe she needed to stop worrying so much. "But now you've got me a little curious. It was something I've been wondering for a little bit now, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to. But I was kind of wondering… what your powers were? And how you can see without really using your eyes like a lot of us have to." The girl dared to ask. She wouldn't hold it against him if he didn't want to tell her, but he just seemed so confident, despite everything. It gave her hope in a way; if he could be so sure of her then maybe she'd be able to be surer of herself too. She had never really thought her powers were anything special, but that was comparing herself to her mother and other supers… maybe her problem had just been that she'd been setting unrealistic goals and expectations of herself. Either way she decided there that she liked this guy, and could see being around him very beneficial for her. Hopefully he didn't mind if she hung around him.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker A wave of emotions flooded her aura, but the one thing he was really looking for, was for her to relax and that mad him smile; even more so when he could feel the heat from her cheeks. She tried to be modest about it at first, but eventually thanked him. He couldn't help but smile a little, for some reason, her smiling made him smile, it was...a good feeling, not one he felt often. It seemed like whatever he said boosted her confidence a little and made her relaxed enough to start asking about him and his powers. "Ah, I was wondering when that was going to be brought up," he raised his head up," ahhhh now where to begin... ok, so you know that most supers get their powers through genetics, via some form of mutation in them right? I'm something a little different, a little more wild so speak, but that might just be me being dramatic. My powers are the direct result of being a descendant of a fire elemental, in other words, I can control that element, produce it and extinguish it at will. As for my sight, because of my inherently magical nature, I have access to what's known as a 'mana source' and a power called 'mana'. Mana is a source of energy for all life, it flows and ebbs through everything, but is completely invisible to the naked eye, because of my source, I can sense that mana. While you might see me for what I am, whatever that may be, the way I see you is as this constantly flowing and waving source of colors. I can sense exactly where you are, what actions you're doing and," he smirked at this, "honestly your fiery red cheeks."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte "Oh…" Grace said, some of it making sense to her, some of it losing her a little. The whole mana thing was not a concept she was familiar with, he did a fairly good job explaining it. "I got my powers from my mum." She piped up quickly. "Elementals run in our family too, though she's more earth, so we're still not sure why I ended up with water… we figured it has something to do with natures, that certain elements just work better for certain natures." However when he mentioned that he could see her blushing Grace gasped slightly, dropping her gaze back to the ground and feeling her cheeks burning even fiercer. The girl was quiet for a few moments when someone else spoke up. "Aww look, isn't that cute? She's got a crush on the blind boy!" Gasping again Grace looked up and to the source of the voice. A girl who was a fair bit taller than her with dark brown hair and green eyes. "Look how red she is." "I… don't" Grace replied softly, her voice barely auditable. "What was that? You need to speak up, I didn't hear you?" "I said I don't…" She said, only a fraction louder, still not enough to be heard very well. Tears were now starting to well up in her eyes on top of it all and she took a few nervous steps away as the other girl advanced on her. She shook her head slightly. "Sorry sweetie still can't hear you." It wasn't entirely clear if her intent was malicious or not, she hadn't said anything outright mean, though she had invited herself into a private conversation. Either way it was making Grace uncomfortable and she began to look around for the quickest exit.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker She seemed to get the gist of the explanation, though some of the technical stuff might have been over her head. She explained her origin as well, seemed like she was an elemental as well although...maybe she lost touch with her magical roots...maybe his father could show her something or even...well it was something to think on later. After having mentioned her blushing though he had to wonder if he took his teasing too far, that was until someone gave him the answer clear as day. "Aww look, isn't that cute? She's got a crush on the blind boy! Look how red she is." This looked bad, Grace's aura suddenly shifted, timidity and fear enveloped her and a new aura approached; he felt webs of aggression. The new aura taunted Grace, stricken with fear of this new adversary she slowly backed away. No, he couldn't let that overcome him, but he couldn't just let this injustice take place either. "Ahem!" This attracted the girl's attention as he stepped in-between her and Grace, "you interrupted our conversation, please leave." His face was stone cold, but his insides raged with a fire he wanted to loose upon her. "Ooh what's this? Casanova gonna protect his little girlfriend?" She began taunting him, but he was unimpressed, Grace on the other hand, she probably felt that one. He was going to get this girl away from Grace, he just needed something to give him an edge in the conversation, anything would help, but until then, all he could say was. "I'm not going to ask you again," his body was becoming more like a furnace.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked up very slightly at the intervention of Kyle, her gaze slightly curious amongst the other emotions overwhelming her. At the other girl's words she looked back down. The other girl smiled slightly at the boy's words and tossed her hair slightly with a smirk and a small scoff. "Cool your jets hot stuff, I was just teasing." She said carelessly as she turned and walked away, joining a group of other very tall and attractive looking girls whom she began laughing with as if the whole encounter with the pair had never happened. Grace slowly looked away from them and then back to Kyle with a small smile. She reached out to touch him for a moment, before feeling the heat radiating off his body and quickly retracted her hand, holding it gently. "Thank you." She said gently, looking at him with another small smile as she wiped away the small tears that had formed in her eyes. "You didn't have to… but I'm glad you did. Sometimes it feels like everyone can sense my nervousness. I'm like a wounded gazelle on the Serengeti. The bullies just seem to smell me coming from a mile away." She actually laughed softly and seemed to have calmed down and mostly gotten over her nervousness from before. "I'll try not to be a burden like that in the future." She promised. "Do you always get all hot when you get mad?" Grace asked curiously, remembering how he'd been practically radiating heat. No doubt if she'd touched him she would have burnt herself.</s>	<\|message\|>Kyle Parker Kyle remained as stone faced as ever even in the girl's flippancy and departure. Once she was back with her group Kyle relaxed a bit, letting his guard down, he turned around to face Grace. "Thank you. You didn't have to… but I'm glad you did. Sometimes it feels like everyone can sense my nervousness. I'm like a wounded gazelle on the Serengeti. The bullies just seem to smell me coming from a mile away. I'll try not to be a burden like that in the future." He felt somewhat relieved that she was alright, her aura had shifted back to normal too. That being said, he was saddened by the fact that she felt the way she did about herself. To have such a low confidence, to the point of considering yourself to be a burden to others, what made her feel this way to begin with? "Do you always get all hot when you get mad?" Taken aback he looked down at his hand, before growing somewhat solemn, "Sorry," he spoke, "sometimes I forget to control the heat, but...fires rage, its in their nature," looking down at her he noticed she was holding her hand, "Grace...did I hurt you?" He looked to her slightly concerned.</s>
<\|description\|>Kyle Parker Alias: N/A Age:16 Powers/limitations: Elemental Heritage (fire) -Naturally immune to fire attacks -Can naturally produce fire and heat using a mana source. -weak to water and cold attacks Curse of Rage -drastically increases fire abilities at the cost of succumbing to his fury. -curse is kept in check by magical seal created by his father. -severely drains mana source after use, long cool down. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace was in line for food at the cafeteria when she felt someone tap on her shoulder and she turned quickly, looking surprised before she realised who it was and smiled gently. "Tea the meal or tea the beverage made of hot water and dried leaves?" She replied with a small laugh. "I like both. A very calming drink; tea." She contemplated for a moment. Honestly it wasn't a drink she had a lot, since she rarely drank anything else besides water for a number of reasons. It had a load of health benefits, was exceptionally calming for her, and having a drink bottle full of water was always comforting since she couldn't conjure water out of the air, but was limited to manipulating existing sources. That being said tea was still a nice drink. "Why is that?" Grace eventually asked. She doubted someone would have brought tea to school would they have? It didn't seem like a thing that was practical to bring to school. The line moved up slightly and Grace took a few steps with them. She wasn't overly keen on the whole school lunches thing, but she had forgotten to pack her own this morning so she was stuck with whatever the school was providing. It didn't look as bad as she'd heard they were supposed to be though.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker Grace's aura spiked for only a moment before the realization of who he was came to her and her body language relaxed; he simply smiled at her. Her answer had caught him off guard as his brain came to a halt, the gears eventually worked themselves out and he laughed along with her. Laughing, it wasn't something he experienced to often, but with Grace it came almost naturally, he wondered if her personality was having just as much of an effect on him as his was on her's. Eventually she ended up asking him, "why is that?" "Well, I happened to bring along an extra bag with me today and I thought you'd might like some," truthfully he was going to drink the second bag later in the afternoon, not that he was going to mention that bit to her. Just from his few encounters with her, she seemed like the type to enjoy calming things like tea. Admittedly there was an ulterior motive than just offering tea out of good will, he figured it would help her relax that much more, maybe get her to open up more and hear more of her tale. "I just need a container to heat it up in," sensing the area he found a stack of Styrofoam cups, "perfect, I'll go save a couple of seats." Making his way around her and out of line he snagged a couple of cups, just for good measure. He sensed around the entire cafeteria, pinpointing an area that would be out of the way and din the noise a little. Cafeterias were good for meeting up with people you wanted to meet up with, but for a new coming loner like Kyle and the timid personality Grace had, he figured secluded would be better. Eventually finding a more out of the way spot he made his way there and secured it, propping his bag in the place where Grace would sit. Satisfied, he pulled out the tea bags from his pack, including a ceramic mug he had brought from home and sat down in the empty space across his backpack, awaiting Grace's arrival.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Smiling happily Grace shook her head slightly, despite herself. "Thank you, but I'm fine really…" She trailed off as he began looking around for containers and moved off, saying he was going to go save her a seat. Tilting her head slightly the girl wondered to herself. He was certainly a strange one, Kyle. Maybe that was why she liked him. He didn't seem like the others around here. The entire time she'd seen him he hadn't seemed all that interested in anyone else. He hadn't gone out of his way to speak to anyone else that she'd seen. As the line moved Grace eventually collected her lunch and made her way over to where the boy was sitting over in a corner away from the busyness of the cafeteria and walked over to him. He had his bag placed on the seat opposite him and she paused for a moment. She assumed it was a seat for her, but at the same didn't want to go touching his things without permission. "You know… if you wanted me to sit with you… you just had to ask." She said softly as a thought occurred to her and she looked at him curiously. "Kyle… do you mind if I ask you a question?" Grace on, still standing there unsure exactly to in the situation. "I mean you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. I was just wondering… how you grew up I suppose?" She said, trying to figure out how to word it properly. "I mean… did you go to school like normal kids or were you home schooled? Did you have any friends?"</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker It didn't take Grace too long afterwards for her to meet up with Kyle, he waited patiently for her to sit, but after noticing how her aura was reacting, he raised an eyebrow. "You know... if you wanted me to sit with you... you just had to ask." Suddenly it felt like a pit opened up in his gut and he suddenly felt like an ass, completely assuming that Grace was just going to come over and sit with him. But... "I apologize," he started, "I guess I just thought after our talk before class that we would..." "Kyle… do you mind if I ask you a question?" Grace asked him, in a tone that implied she was going to ask her question anyway "I mean you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. I was just wondering… how you grew up I suppose?" She said, trying to figure out how to word it properly. "I mean… did you go to school like normal kids or were you home schooled? Did you have any friends?" "huh..." that was a bit of a curveball, "well um...first, would you like to sit with me?" He said this while plopping the tea bags in their separate cups and began preparing them. At this point, he didn't think there was a reason for her to say no, even though assuming is what got him feeling like this in the first place. He grabbed his backpack, allowing Grace to sit, from there he pulled a water bottle from the pack and filled both cups with water. Using the remaining water he poured it on his hands, washing them and heat drying before sticking just the tip of his pinky in each cup and instant heating both to perfect drinkable temperatures. He passed the Styrofoam cup of tea to Grace before taking a sip of his own and telling his tale. "My father is an influential businessman, an investor in projects, among other things and my mother, she was the reason why I have my powers. She is no longer among us, but my father, he is the one who helped me develop my powers further. Early on in my youth I had a difficult time controlling my powers, he trained with me, nearly night and day, to meditate, contemplate, project myself into the cosmos." He took another drink before looking at Grace, "When I had more of a reign on my powers and I was more...contemplative, my father mostly left me to my own devices. He has caretakers who watch over me and tutor me, but for most of my life I lived in a peaceful seclusion, my only real contact with the outside world, to be honest, was whenever my father would allow me to accompany him to work." He took another drink of his tea, pausing to allow everything to settle in, "All in all, I think I grew up well."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked at him for a moment as he apologised and she simply smiled and giggled slightly. Perhaps they were not so different. "No no… I just meant next time you don't have to go to the effort of offering me some kind of incentive to sit with you. Nothing so fancy as tea." She tried to clarify as she sat down with him once he moved his bag. She guessed they were still in that early stages of friendship where they were still getting to know each other, so it was to be expected that there would be misunderstandings like this. Well at least she hoped they were in the early stages of friendship. Placing her tray on the table she listened to his story, both interested and surprised by some of it. "I see…" There was a sad note in her voice now, something maybe close to pity… sympathy. You'll have to forgive me for saying… but it sounds awfully lonely." She supposed she was one to talk, so figured that maybe an explanation was due. "It may be hard to believe… but I wasn't always so shy and timid. I used to have friends." Her tone became slightly sadder at this, longing. She missed her old friends. "It was early middle school I think. One of my friends had a bit of a mouth on him, and it got him into a lot of trouble sometimes. Onetime he said the wrong thing to the wrong guy and got into a physical fight, which the other guy was winning. He was hurting my friend and… I got mad. Really mad. I'd never taken control of a person before that day… and haven't since then. Up until that point I didn't even know it was a thing I could do, though since there is so much water in the body I guess I can understand it." She paused for a moment, sipping on her tea lightly. "It scared him. Scared me. I had to change schools because of that. After that incident though I was always that little bit afraid that something else would make me mad and I'd do to them what I did to that boy. It's not something I ever want to do to a person again. My friends didn't talk to me after that, even though I was in a different school there were ways they could have contacted me. But they didn't. I don't blame them I guess I wouldn't like it if I knew my friend had been keeping a secret like that from me." Freak had been the word of choice but it wasn't one she liked repeating.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He listened to her story, quietly, intently. While his story had been met with some form of sympathy, he simply brushed it off, he didn't desire it, because he didn't need to. Her story, however, showed him that they lived practically polar opposite childhoods and it confirmed one thing for him; she had power. Enough power to even take over an unwilling being, if only she knew what true water elementals could do. "My father once told me, that born, blessed, or cursed, once we have our powers, it has become a part of who we are." Kyle looked to Grace "You had an accident, you lost control, it happens, and unfortunately those around you were unable to understand it." He remained quiet for a bit, choosing his next words carefully. "Grace, I'm sorry for what happened to you, but...don't be afraid of who you are and what powers you possess. You're a good person at heart, I can tell that and I have no reason to fear you, even with your level of power." He sipped at his tea again, he could tell stories to Grace about the times he's lost control of his powers, how he's nearly burned down more things than he could count. Kyle's face became somewhat sullen at the thoughts.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked at him in surprise. She had never really thought about it that, always assuming she had been afraid of other people. But maybe he was right, though he hadn't said it in so many words; maybe she was afraid of herself and her powers. Maybe that was why she shied away from so many people. However it was the last sentence that made her look up in surprise, her brow furrowed in confusion. However after a few moments she simply shook her head and tried to laugh it off. "My level of power? No. You must be mistaken." Her power was just like everyone else, only that it was water based rather than the other kids. She wasn't any more powerful than the next person. That made no sense. She was sure everyone got angry and lost control and had things happen they were never able to recreate, either by choice or simply because they were unable to. "I'm no more special than anyone else." She assured him, looking back down at her cup of tea and frowning again. Kyla had lived his entire life on his own anyway; he'd never had other people to compare to just like she had. How could he possibly know how powerful a person was or wasn't? Especially when he'd seen so little of her powers being used?</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He smirked slightly, "Grace, I think you underestimate yourself." While it was true that he had seen little display of her power, he just had this...feeling that she had more potential than she was letting on. Her story about controlling that one person proved at least that she had the potential, if nothing else, at least to Kyle, it didn't seem like a story anyone would just make up. Perhaps he was getting a bit ahead of himself though. He smiled and relaxed his posture a little, "I suppose it really doesn't matter right now though, how powerful we are, after all we're just students trying to learn, leave the heroics to the professionals right?"</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace smiled slightly at the boy's words and gave him a look. Exactly what kind of look she gave him she wasn't sure, but she supposed it didn't matter either way because he couldn't see her face. "Maybe I do…" The girl pondered aloud as she rubbed her finger on the cup in her hands, bringing it to her lips and sipping gently. He had her really thinking now. What if she was powerful? What would that even mean for her? She still wasn't sure what she wanted to do with her life. Being a super hero just seemed… too out of character for her. It didn't feel right. Did the magnitude of her power open up new opportunities for her? Turning back as Kyle spoke she smiled again, nodding slightly. "I suppose so…" She said, her voice clearly indicating that her thoughts were now on other things. "Do you know what you want to do with your life yet?" She asked eventually, turning back to look at him, thinking it was rude to just sit there quietly and not really add to the conversation. That and she wondered if maybe his answer may help her find some kind of direction in some way.</s>	<\|message\|>Kyle Parker Her aura spiked suddenly, confused he raised an eybrow, unsure of exactly what that was Grace had just...felt, done, anything. The good news though, he got her thinking, which was exactly what he was driving for, letting her take a deep long look at herself and think on things. It seemed though that whatever pondering she had was short lived and her mind wandered elsewhere. Her minimal responses suggested it before she asked him her question. "Do I know what I want to do with my life yet..." he thought on that, he had always lived in the present, never really dwelling on things that have happened or things that have yet to happen, that being said... "I've never really thought about what I've wanted to do with my life, I generally live in the here and now, but, to be honest, I think my father has... expectations of me, though I'm unsure of when he'll exactly share them with me. I honestly believe though that it has something to do with sending me to this school, up until now, I've never been in a social learning environment." This got him thinking though, "And what about you? I'm sure that's what you were thinking about before you asked me."</s>
<\|description\|>Kyle Parker Alias: N/A Age:16 Powers/limitations: Elemental Heritage (fire) -Naturally immune to fire attacks -Can naturally produce fire and heat using a mana source. -weak to water and cold attacks Curse of Rage -drastically increases fire abilities at the cost of succumbing to his fury. -curse is kept in check by magical seal created by his father. -severely drains mana source after use, long cool down. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He understood the reference, it was one his father had used on him once before as well, though he could already tell that she wasn't completely into the idea. She told him what she really wanted to do, stereotypical, sure, but there were those who did just want a peaceful life, honestly, it was one he desired as well. "I think you should do what you want to do, what you feel is right. As I said, your powers are a part of you, whether you like it or not, however, I never said you needed to save people with them or be public and flashy with them. If raising a family is what you aspire to in life, then you should do so." He finished the rest of his tea before setting the mug aside and folding his arms, "As for me...well, I'm not so sure about kids, but, to live in such a peaceful existence," he breathed in, dwelling on the thought before letting it go, "I think I would enjoy it."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace shrugged slightly. "Like I said I don't really know what I want to do yet. I'm sure I can't just leave school and start a family, so I think I'd have to find some kind of job in the mean time. I just can't think what it is I'd like to get up and do every day." She shrugged lightly once more as she listened to Kyle saying he wanted a peaceful life. It made her smile, knowing that someone else was content to join one of the more generic lifestyles even with their powers. It made her feel a little less odd, which was a nice change in a world like this. Finishing off her lunch and tea she sighed gently. "Luckily I have a lot of time to think about it I guess." She finally settled upon. "And who knows, by the end of school I might be an entirely different person than I am now. High school changes people." At least that's what she'd been told. "But… do you think doing something any person can do would be a waste of my powers?" She eventually asked, looking back to him. Certainly not everyone who has super powers becomes a super hero or does something with their powers… right?</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker "To waste your powers is only a part of a whole which is, in essence, to waste your life. To waste your life, is to not do the thing your heart most desires, but what I suppose I'm really saying is, you don't have to be a hero to do great things." Kyle sat back, wanting to let his words sink in. At this point in time, whatever she did with her life, Kyle didn't think he'd think any differently of her. Damn, he'd only known this girl for less than a day and already he couldn't help but imagine this bumbling and nervous Grace running around with a couple of small children, doing normal, everyday things. At the same time, he couldn't help but imagine wanting that kind of existence, to be this bumbling and nervous, but joyous and with a lot of heart, kind of creature. Grace was indeed an enigma, but he couldn't help but feel that she viewed him the same way.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked at him curiously, putting slightly as she thought about the words. Once again she found herself confused by the things he said, trying to find the answer to her question amongst the cryptic words. However it seemed like she had run out of time to think it over. The bell rung; a harsh, loud noise that broke her line of concentration. "We have those power classes now don't we?" She asked as she once again took out her book, the one she carried the sigil in, her school schedule stuck on the back as she looked it over, hoping she'd remember it eventually. The book itself was a journal of sorts, where she wrote down some of her inner most thoughts, she also tried to keep it strictly positive, so it usually helped to make her feel better when she was feeling down. "Yeah, theory followed by practical. Did you want to walk over with me?" She figured it only made sense, since they were already sitting together and were going to the same place. But she didn't want to make him feel like he had to either. Hopefully he didn't get sick of her hanging around him all the time like this.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker Grace seemed...almost put off, he wondered if maybe he hadn't given her an answer that maybe she wanted to hear. That being said, what Grace did with her life, wasn't really Kyle's concern and it definitely wasn't something he could dictate in just a few short sentences. Trying to figure out one's life, one's future, requires dedication, thought and a little bit of passion. He knew she'd figure out what she'd want to do with her life, just like eventually he'd have to figure out his. The sudden ringing of the bell brought him violently from his thoughts, if that was the sound he was going to have to suffer through high school with, it'd be a damn long 4 years. "We have those power classes now don't we?" she asked before flipping through a book and answering, "Yeah, theory followed by practical. Did you want to walk over with me?" There was a very subtle hint of concern in her voice, was she afraid he was going to say no or something? He smiled, saying, "Of course," he began to stand up, the initial roar of the students as they stood from their seats had begun to quiet down as they filed their way out of the cafeteria, "You lead, I'll follow." In this particular instance, it was good to have someone with sight, while he could easily attempt to navigate the halls on his own, it was more methodical, required more time. With Grace, her sight would be able to tell which room was which, far more quickly than if he rubbed his fingers over every single sign in front of every single door.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace smiled slightly when he agreed to walk with her. It was a really strange thing to think of, but Kyle's composed and collected approach to life had a very calming effect on her. It was like he just radiated tranquillity. She wondered, if she could see auras like he could what his would look like compared to everyone else. He certainly seemed to pick up on her mood changes easily enough, so she wondered if it was colour coded and if some had more powerful or bigger auras than others. She pondered over a lot of questions she had over auras as she led the way through the halls, making her way towards the rooms near the gym where the theory classes were held. She wasn't sure if she'd bother him with all her questions right now, some time maybe. However there was one that was pressing her more than any other and she just couldn't help herself. "Kyle?" She said as she walked to catch his attention. "Can anyone learn to read auras? Or do you have to be born with the ability or maybe you have to have something special to read them?" She supposed what she was really asking was if she could learn it with some training. Grace still wasn't sure if it was something she'd ever need in life, unable to think of situations where it would be useful except when faced with a loss of eyesight. But certainly Kyle would be able to tell her other places it may be useful. As they arrived at the classroom she quickly took one of the few remaining seats with an empty one next to it. It was all things they could talk about at another time she supposed.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker "Kyle?" She said as she walked to catch his attention. "Can anyone learn to read auras? Or do you have to be born with the ability or maybe you have to have something special to read them?" "Hm?" Maybe it was just from the tone of her voice or the sudden barrage of questions, but he had a feeling this was something that had been on her mind. Kyle had to admit, this was something that had been on his mind as well, ever since she revealed herself to be a form of water elemental, Kyle had been mulling over the possibility of her having a mana source. If she did, it'd require some time and patience, but she could have similar abilities to his own, and who knows, opening her mana source may even further increase her powers. As they took their seats, Grace seemed to realize the futility of having such a discussion right before their class. Kyle leaned over a little and said, "If you'd like to, we can stop by my place after school and we can talk it over there, because truthfully, you having magic, has been on my mind too." Then he calmly seated himself upright just as the emanating presence of Mr. Steele entered through the doorway; the final bell rang.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace smiled slightly but then pouted as she thought about it. "Maybe tomorrow." She whispered quickly. "I'd have to ask my mum about it first." Her mother was slightly over protective of her, but she supposed it was well justified what with all the villains she fought threatening to get her and everyone she loved one day. The life of a hero she supposed. Still, even as Mr Steele began with his lecture on power theory her mind was more on Kyle's words, thinking them over. He thought she had magic? Why would he think that? What did it even mean? She knew some kids in the school had powers more orientated towards the mystical and the fantastic, but they had elemental powers. How did magic fit into all of this? "Alright class!" The sudden shout caused her to look up in alarm. "Now I don't think too much about all this theory stuff, in my opinion the best way is to get out there and practice the theory! So put your things away, we're going out to the sports courts early where we're going to reinforce the theory we've just covered with practical application." Grace sat there in shock. She'd completely missed the theory element all… ten minutes of it. She had no idea what she was supposed to be doing now.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker The teacher began his lecture and, frankly, it was exactly what he expected it to be... "Now class, the school requires me to go over your power control and breathing exercises, written here in the first few chapters. I completely disagree, because you've been doing that since you were preschoolers!" The basic gist of the next ten minutes passing involves him completely skipping the aforementioned exercises and instead going over basic application of power control and manifestation. In other words, projecting your elemental power in the form of your elemental attack. Kyle's in this case happened to be projecting fireballs and other pyro based weapons and projectiles. He looked over to Grace, for her it'd be her water manipulation and whatever she could do with that. He looked to the class and felt their auras, most seemed a bit nervous, he was calm, surprisingly she was calm as well, that could be good. "Alright class!" Her aura suddenly spiked, and he figured he shouldn't have been too surprised by now. Mr. Steele then marched the class out of the room and towards the sports courts, Kyle stayed alongside Grace and lightly tapped her foot. "Everything alright?"</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked over as Kyle tapped her foot and spoke softly to her and she nodded slightly. "I wasn't paying attention." She whispered softly back. "And 'practical application' has never been my strong suit." She quickly turned her attention back towards the front as Mr. Steele began speaking again. "First off we'll be splitting you guys into groups. From my experience, elementals are usually one of two classes, we have creators and manipulators. Creators can produce their element as will, but their control of it once produced is minimal. Manipulators are the opposite; they usually have control over their element, but are reliant on an existing source. Now, some of you fit into both of these categories, which is fine too. Some of you might find that as the year progresses you'll begin to develop your abilities in the other category. So, for starters we'll get you guys to group up. Creators here, manipulators there, anyone feeling like they fit into both over there." Grace gave Kyle a smile as she moved off into the manipulation group as Mr Steele went into an explanation of the next exercise. "See those machines down the other end of the court? We're going to be using those to shoot tennis balls at you. The aim is to simply use your powers, however you see fit, to stop them from hitting you. Before we begin, are there any manipulators who we may have trouble finding materials for you to use?" Grace looked around and then shook her head slowly, noticing everyone else was doing the same.</s>	<\|message\|>Kyle Parker He chuckled, that sounded like something she'd do for some reason. He just smiled and simply said, "I think you'll do find Grace." as they parted from each other into their respective groups. Kyle found himself home in the hybrid group, his mana source allowed him to create his fire, but it also allowed him to control it too, manipulating it many things, including the forms of animals if he so desired. "Before we begin, are there any manipulators who we may have trouble finding materials for you to use?" Kyle remained silent as everyone shook their heads, "Good! Then let's begin." He started calling from group members at random, consistently going in a creator, manipulator, hybrid pattern. As each student went up, it was pretty much what you expected from a group of elementals; hurling bolts, boulders and icicles. He did admit though there were some pretty impressive displays, there was one girl in particular who was using vines, he wasn't even sure where she got those. Even the group of bullies from earlier showed off their stuff...they seemed tough, they've had their share fair of practice. As students displayed their powers and applied it in the practical, Mr. Steele would eventually call them to stop and move off to a 'discard' group so to speak, and as the last student was 'discarded'. "Parker!" Guess it's time. He took his cane and folded it up hanging it in his belt loop, then reached up for his sunglasses and removed them, revealing his closed eyes; his bound eyes. Putting the shades in his pocket he stepped forward up to the plate and took a fighting stance, spreading his legs apart and crouching low, his left hand extended forward, palm out, his right, a closed fist centered at his core. Even before Mr. Steele announced the start, Kyle was already manifesting energy into his core and as the first ball launched forward, he thrust his closed fist in response and allowed the energy to flow from his core, into his arm and out of his fist in the form of a fireball. It lanuched itself forward and incinerated the tennis ball mid-air. The other machines began to fire, launching the tennis balls at him, some even causing the tennis balls to curve out and come at him from the side. Taking everything into account, observing his surroundings, memorizing every detail, he moved. The way his body flowed, it almost seemed like Kyle knew where the balls were flying in from. He would jump, spin, kick, chop and fire would leap, lunge, curl, curve and incinerate. The times he didn't launch fire, he'd allow his body to simply move around the incoming projectiles, until finally, everything went silent. Kyle straightened himself out, breathed in deeply, then exhaled before returning his sunglasses to his face and moving over to the 'discard' group.</s>

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<\|description\|>Mysaren Race: Bean Nighe Gender: Female Age: 22 Occupation: Unemployed, robs graves for a living. Personality/Interests On the surface, she seems like a very easy person to talk to, someone who you can trust, someone who knows a lot about the world. On the inside, though, Mysaren just desperately wants to be accepted by people. One of her biggest fears is people not liking her. Mysaren can be seen as somewhat manipulative, lying and cheating to people often to get her way, although this is something that she is trying to fix. She's definitely not above dirty tricks in order to get what she wants, or sometimes needs. She's very good at feigning confidence, which is how she does her "job", by either brute force or pretending that she's supposed to be in area's that she's not supposed to go. Despite this, she's definitely loyal to those she cares about, and definitely tries to help her friends in family in any way she can. Mysaren is somewhat hot-headed, and has a very quick temper. On the inside, she's a very sensitive person, though. She takes a lot of things literally, and doesn't really appreciate jokes or teasing at all. She cares immensely about her family at home, and her greatest fear is something bad happening to them. Her entire life has been spent trying to support them the best she can, even stealing and cheating in order to get money. She's often very cheap, not liking to spend money frivolously, even if she has money. She has a bit of a mistrust for anyone with large amounts of money as well. Appearance Mysaren is a rather tall women, having the look of a warrior. She's muscular, with a chiseled, prominent jaw and square face. She has short, curly black hair, which barely goes past her ears, although her bangs cover her eyes if not pulled back. She has dark brown skin, which is marred with various scars. Her eyes are deep-set, and blue eyes that look like the deep end of the pool. Freckles cover a large amount of her face, and are lightly sprinkled on her shoulders. Details Body build: Muscular, well built. Hair: Short, curly. Hair color: Black. Skin color: Dark brown. Eye/Iris color: Dark blue. Height/Weight: 6'3, 185. Notable Features: Freckles, her arms and legs are somewhat covered in scars. Clothing Description She tends to wear long, dark purple robes with a gold trim around the edges, and a hood. Underneath, she wears a black tunic, a normal pair of pants which are brown, and a belt, which is covered in various small pockets and bags. She carries a larger, messenger bag that's made of black leather and has several runes carved into it. She also wears thick, black leather gloves, and rather strong, worn boots, made for travelling. Equipment A spell book and several other books, a few healing and mana potions, various materials for her spell work, a shovel, a lantern, and a bottle of oil. Weapon(s) Her wand, a knife, and a small sword. Powers Due to her years spent living in the darkness, she has a heightened sense of sight. Abilities She is able to tell when someone is about to die, although she can't get specifics on who/why/how. It's usually just a loud, wordless muttering in the back of her mind. Talents Hand to hand combat. Petty thievery Her persuasive power. Magic Deals primarily in Necromancy. Talking with the deceased, being able to call upon them in times of battle. Sessamaru - "He seems level-headed, but I am envious of his rather joyous personality." Historia - "A naive little bird. I do hope she at least knows enough to stay out of trouble." Saha - "Never much liked snakes." Katelia - "An annoyance." Julio - "He knows how to keep his mouth shut. I can respect that." Azzrix - "Pompous ass. I can't help but respect his ability to kill rich people though. Keeps me in business." Margaret - "I don't much respect greediness, but she's at least a good companion otherwise." Naida - "Rather nice. Pretty cute as well." Drubbins - "An idiot. Lovable, but an idiot." Tahira - "One of them brainy types, and not so good with people. Kinda painful to talk with her." Rimau - "He has a very similar sense of humor as me, and he's pretty friendly. I like him a lot." Claire - "Rather shy, but not bad to talk to. Could be a good friend." Viggo - "I can't stand him or his music." Rouen - "Some pretty rich boy who thinks he knows how the world works because he's lived in a nice castle all his life." Falen - "I respect him a lot. He kinda scares me sometimes though..."</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan began to tune the lizard out for a bit as the scene behind him caught his attention. Some poor bastard was trying to pick a fight with Kat, the tavern's hunter. He craned his neck to look the offender up and down, an amused smirk briefly gracing his lips. Then the zizz regained his attention. He turned back to the lizard man, a stern frown reappearing on his face. "A wolf?" He asked flatly. "Yes, I've seen it a couple times." Felan was very clearly not impressed by this information. "And I've never had trouble with it, or any wolf for that matter. Maybe if you keep your ass off my land, you won't either." There was almost a threatening undertone there. Felan didn't like killing; he figured every life he took was a little more taken from his own. Unless it was a goblin life, of course. But regardless, he only had so much patience. If the lizard kept slithering around his land, Felan would give him a reason to pack.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat was still fuming when she practically threw herself into her usual seat, the tavern's strongest drink in hand. Gods, she was pissed. She dealt with idiots all day and didn't get more than annoyed at them, and now this. Where the hell had her composure gone? That was a silly question. She knew exactly where it'd gone: out the door the instant the knight had the nerve to insinuate Kat was some down-on-her-luck waif, unable to do anything without assistance. (Because really, that's exactly what she was, wasn't it?) She was ripped out of her thoughts when she heard Hel growling. The knight was up and glowering, taking a purposeful step towards her. The leopard stood between his charge and this new threat, muscles tensed and ready to spring if the stranger made a move. She took in a breath to mouth off again, but that runt with the mismatched wings shot up, apparently feeling the need to intervene. Kat's eyebrow twitches as she just got more pissed off. Now this twerp thought she needed help, too. "No," she called out. She forced herself to relax in her seat, once again running her fingers through Hel's fur. He just glanced back at her, a questioning look on his face. "Let 'im try what he wants. I wanna see Bernie throw his sorry ass out." That was probably the one reason she'd yet to draw a knife. Kat'd been at the Blue Moon Tavern long enough to know how bar fights ended.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur "How dare that little village-wench throw away my gratitude," he thought as he took his first step forward. As he did he watched her pet stand between himself and her. It raised its haunches towards him and growled threateningly. He heard something crash behind him and voices rose up. He ignored it. "Perfect, I'll fry her wild runt. A perfect lesson to teach this peasant," his brow furrowed further into a mean glare. He placed the cup of ale on the bar and removed his leather glove which was coated inside with an electric-resistant tree sap. With focus he concentrated to cause his body's electric current to intensify. It had exhausting repercussions, but Rouen was too angry to care. A small part of him thought this was overreacting but he was too exhausted to not be angry. "Never cross a Fulgur, or you will feel heaven's thunder," he thought remembering his family's motto. Small Static discharges appeared between the fingers of his ungloved hand. He was about to take another step forward when a whirlwind of brown hair and wings appeared in front of him. Rouen shifted his glare to the obstacle. It turned out to be a winged girl wearing thick goggles. "If she thinks she is gonna help her friend then sh-," he thought when she spoke. "E-Excuse me M'lord, I understand that you are upset right now, but we've already had some problems in this tavern today..." he heard. She breathed deeply and continued, "Starting a fight wouldn't do any good right now, and I am sure that a man of stature would be able to put whatever transgression that has went down between you and Miss Kat behind you for the good of the public. I'm sorry if I come off a bit rude and putting my nose where it doesn't belong, but currently this Tavern is my home and I'd like for nothing else to happen in it today." He was off-put by her mannerisms. Her plead reached the part of him that remembered the vows he took upon accepting his post. The glare on his face retreated softly into thoughtful expression. The electric current weaving in and around his body thinned out into nothingness. Exhaustion set in from the exertion and lack of energy. "Very well, little lady. I must thank you for reminding my of my post. After all manners do make the man," he said looking at her. "I shall cause no further trouble in your abode, have a good day." He turned around and saw what caused the noise from earlier. The odd fox-eared fay seemed to have tripped and made a mess of the bar and an elderly patron. The white-haired innkeeper seemed to be doing his best to clean up. "Oh dear I should help out" he thought and walked up to the elderly patron and the fox-eared fay. "Do you require any assistance?" he asked them.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia let out quite the audible sigh when she realized that this knight was most likely not going to cause any trouble now. Which was good, because he had been gathering up electricity (was that his magic?) and that was one of the things that really didn't mix well with Historia. But thankfully Historia had been right in her assumptions of how this nobleman would act if she reached out to his better nature as humbly as she could. Compared to the look of ready to kill someone that he had when Historia stepped in (and she had no idea why she hadn't stepped right back out at that point) to the look now that he was going over to help Mr. Sess at the bar, it was clear to her that she had done the right thing. Even if it did annoy Miss Kat. Speaking of which, Historia turned around and took a few steps towards Miss Kat (while being weary of Hel's reaction) and said, "Pardon my intervention Miss Kat. I know how strong you are, and with Hel, there's not a lot that either of you can't do. But many of us here in the Tavern are tired of fighting for the day and Mr. Bernard would probably like it if he didn't have to break up another fight in here." She started to turn but then added, "I'll try to keep to myself the next time though..." with that she turned back to her seat, walking back and sitting down between Claire and Mysaren. "Sorry about that." Historia said, a little embarrassed. "So um...what were we talking about?"</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was still drinking when he saw the altercation go on between Kat and the newcomer. Had he not drank so much then he would have tried to break it up, but the alcohol made the idea of fight seem entertaining and he was tempted to start cheering them on, but Historia intervened, which was a bit of a surprise since she seemed very shy to him, but she actually went up to talk to a big swordsmen who seemed to have electrical powers. "Very well, little lady. I must thank you for reminding my of my post. After all manners do make the man," he said looking at her. "I shall cause no further trouble in your abode, have a good day." he heard Rouen say, he already liked this newcomer already. It was a rare thing to find such discipline, he had to be of noble birth to have manners like that Azzrix thought to himself, maybe they could work together eventually, he never objected to having more muscle in his party. He walked over to where Historia, Claire and Mysaren were sitting to start up a conversation. "That was an admirible attempt at ending their argument before it became a fight" he said to Historia. He then looked at the other two with her and gave a polite bow. "Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Azzrix Grimmor. I am paying for all of the drinks so please drink whatever you like. I hope that we can do business sometime in the near future" he said to them with a smile.</s>	<\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren nodded. Yes, she just wanted to show concern for Historia, that's all. She had seen too many good kids lose everything just because they got a bit too hopeful. "I just don't wish to be rude, Historia," She said after a while, her voice low and dark, "just remember that bad things can happen to good people. Watch out for yourself. At least you have me now, yeah?" At the last sentence, she grinned again, sighing and watching the patrons of the bar. "A tour?" She said, considering the possibility. Yes, a tour would be very nice. All she knew about was the tavern and the graveyard, but knowing of the other houses and buildings, especially a shop to sell her wares, would be very useful to know about. Especially anywhere she could run to in case of trouble, or in case that she needed to grab a lot of items and get the hell out of town, which had happened a few times. The guards would be called, she would grab everything she can within the nearest big house she could find, and she fled, never to be seen again. Mysaren paid little attention to the fight about to start, even when Historia got involved. She could say with about 90% accuracy that no one would've died from the fight, at least not within the first while of it. Historia handled it surprisingly well, in a more diplomatic way than she would've. Historia spoke and Mysaren looked at her. "Uhm, tour around town, things like that. That would be very useful, thank you, Historia." She didn't like that she was making friends at this point. Friends just kept her in town longer, and if she wasn't on the move constantly, someone would finally catch up to her, and thus ends the story of Mysaren. Mysaren looked up as Azzrix introduced himself, raising an eyebrow and watching him carefully. "Mysaren. Pleasure." She said rather bluntly, something off about the man in front of her. He seemed shady to her, and she didn't exactly feel like trusting him right now. Ah, what the hell, benefit of the doubt, right? She still looked wary as he spoke. "Thank you for the drinks, Azzrix, but tell me, what business did you have in mind?"</s>
<\|description\|>Mysaren Race: Bean Nighe Gender: Female Age: 22 Occupation: Unemployed, robs graves for a living. Personality/Interests On the surface, she seems like a very easy person to talk to, someone who you can trust, someone who knows a lot about the world. On the inside, though, Mysaren just desperately wants to be accepted by people. One of her biggest fears is people not liking her. Mysaren can be seen as somewhat manipulative, lying and cheating to people often to get her way, although this is something that she is trying to fix. She's definitely not above dirty tricks in order to get what she wants, or sometimes needs. She's very good at feigning confidence, which is how she does her "job", by either brute force or pretending that she's supposed to be in area's that she's not supposed to go. Despite this, she's definitely loyal to those she cares about, and definitely tries to help her friends in family in any way she can. Mysaren is somewhat hot-headed, and has a very quick temper. On the inside, she's a very sensitive person, though. She takes a lot of things literally, and doesn't really appreciate jokes or teasing at all. She cares immensely about her family at home, and her greatest fear is something bad happening to them. Her entire life has been spent trying to support them the best she can, even stealing and cheating in order to get money. She's often very cheap, not liking to spend money frivolously, even if she has money. She has a bit of a mistrust for anyone with large amounts of money as well. Appearance Mysaren is a rather tall women, having the look of a warrior. She's muscular, with a chiseled, prominent jaw and square face. She has short, curly black hair, which barely goes past her ears, although her bangs cover her eyes if not pulled back. She has dark brown skin, which is marred with various scars. Her eyes are deep-set, and blue eyes that look like the deep end of the pool. Freckles cover a large amount of her face, and are lightly sprinkled on her shoulders. Details Body build: Muscular, well built. Hair: Short, curly. Hair color: Black. Skin color: Dark brown. Eye/Iris color: Dark blue. Height/Weight: 6'3, 185. Notable Features: Freckles, her arms and legs are somewhat covered in scars. Clothing Description She tends to wear long, dark purple robes with a gold trim around the edges, and a hood. Underneath, she wears a black tunic, a normal pair of pants which are brown, and a belt, which is covered in various small pockets and bags. She carries a larger, messenger bag that's made of black leather and has several runes carved into it. She also wears thick, black leather gloves, and rather strong, worn boots, made for travelling. Equipment A spell book and several other books, a few healing and mana potions, various materials for her spell work, a shovel, a lantern, and a bottle of oil. Weapon(s) Her wand, a knife, and a small sword. Powers Due to her years spent living in the darkness, she has a heightened sense of sight. Abilities She is able to tell when someone is about to die, although she can't get specifics on who/why/how. It's usually just a loud, wordless muttering in the back of her mind. Talents Hand to hand combat. Petty thievery Her persuasive power. Magic Deals primarily in Necromancy. Talking with the deceased, being able to call upon them in times of battle. Sessamaru - "He seems level-headed, but I am envious of his rather joyous personality." Historia - "A naive little bird. I do hope she at least knows enough to stay out of trouble." Saha - "Never much liked snakes." Katelia - "An annoyance." Julio - "He knows how to keep his mouth shut. I can respect that." Azzrix - "Pompous ass. I can't help but respect his ability to kill rich people though. Keeps me in business." Margaret - "I don't much respect greediness, but she's at least a good companion otherwise." Naida - "Rather nice. Pretty cute as well." Drubbins - "An idiot. Lovable, but an idiot." Tahira - "One of them brainy types, and not so good with people. Kinda painful to talk with her." Rimau - "He has a very similar sense of humor as me, and he's pretty friendly. I like him a lot." Claire - "Rather shy, but not bad to talk to. Could be a good friend." Viggo - "I can't stand him or his music." Rouen - "Some pretty rich boy who thinks he knows how the world works because he's lived in a nice castle all his life." Falen - "I respect him a lot. He kinda scares me sometimes though..."</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix heard their responses and was slightly disappointed that Mysaren wasn't interested in going on missions with him yet, but he decided that he would have to wait for some other time. Azzrix excused himself to go look at the mission board and then he overheard Naida talking about a mission to find the daughter of a patron to the tavern who had gone missing. Azzrix also heard her mention the possibility of the patron being rich and he became even more interested. He then noticed a commotion going on in the kitchen and saw the weird dog like man run out with a pot of stew with the cooks screaming at him as he fled. Azzrix shook his head at the foolishness of the man, he would make a terrible thief if that's what he thought was worth stealing. Azzrix was interested in the mission so he followed them to wherever they were headed. He decided to follow Naida and soon saw that she was headed back to her home. Azzrix thought that it would be best to quickly go get his things. He quickly headed back to the place where he was staying to get his things and change his clothes. Once in his room he put on his darker robes and traveling cloak which were his thieving clothes when he wasn't robbing people in plain sight. Azzrix attached his rapier and Parrying Dagger to his belt and got his throwing knives and hand crossbow. Once he got the arrows for his crossbow Azzrix left his home and went look for Naida. He eventually found her waiting around and walked up to her calmly. "If you don't mind I would like to partake in this mission, a person with my kind of talents would be a great asset on a mission like this" he said to her with a polite tone to his voice.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "If y'say so, m'good... person." Rimau said after listening to what the Priest had to say, still unsure over what pronouns to use. He scratched his head as the Priest's words came tumbling into his mind, and back out again. 'Heh... poor kid.' He thought, remembering the standards of life set for him and the rest of his kind. 'Where I come from, people who try an' see the light usually end up makin' a bloody mess of 'emselves on the streets, heheh.' He was about to shake his hand, until his attention was stolen by the big-pauldron dumbass. The Zizz squinted at that man with suspicion for a good while, listening in on his words. He didn't say that much, but he had a blank expression of purpose on his face, something Rimau was all too familiar with, to the point of it seemingly transcending the racial boundaries. It was the sort of expression made by a dedicated servant. A loyal attack dog. There was something about him that Rimau just didn't like, beyond simply looking ridiculous with his oversized equipment. Rimau decided to turn away from him until he walked away from the nearby mission board, slapping the side of his head. He was worrying too much. Once he was out the way, Rimau took the opportunity to leave a coin on the bar (with the face of someone he didn't recognise on it) and turn his head around to inspect the board; his eyesight enabled him to see what was on the papers without having to clamber down and navigate the masses again; it wasn't that far away, anyways. "Well now, what do we 'ave 'ere?" He muttered to himself as he took a look, scratching the side of his chin. There were a few jobs in the city, which weren't really his thing; he'd seen enough of urban warfare in his time, and none of them seemed suited to his skillset anyway. Ignoring the fetch-quests, there were a couple of jobs offered by some local noblemen. They both demanded the return of something, that something having been stolen from them. One of them, a golden mask, and the other, his daughter. The rescue mission seemed easier, with the tribe responsible for the kidnapping in open territory, but Rimau was never one for babysitting spoilt princess-types. Plus, if he knew human nobility, they'd pay a lot more for a trinket than for their trophy daughters. Tough decision.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren stood to stretch, noticing the mission board cleared up a bit. Fine, she'd go look. She waltzed over, to looking at the papers curiously. She noticed a specific mission, one about a thief and a golden mask. Seemed easy enough, and returning something that expensive had to have a good reward for it. She grabbed the paper, looking at it curiously before smiling. Yeah, she could do this. She needed someone to do it with though, she knew that. As helpful as necromancy was, it wasn't exactly the most useful of powers in combat. Talking with the dead and raising them to fight for her was great, and bodies were kinda plentiful around these parts, but it required a lot of energy, and she wasn't the best of controlling them. She felt someone staring at her, and she turned, her eyes darting to the lizard guy. Oh yeah, that ass. Well, maybe he was nice, just a bit rude in the "don't blow smoke all around the tavern." department. Was he looking at her, or... Surely his eyesight couldn't be that good? She didn't really know anything about whatever species he was, besides, well, they were obviously rather large lizards.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau was about to look further into the job about the golden mask when the paper was suddenly taken off the board by some kid in fancy robes. He attempted to position himself in such a manner that he could continue reading, but no such luck; the kid was simply too big for him to not obscure Rimau's vision. He screwed up his face and grumbled for a brief moment. Alas, if he could see through solid objects, not only would he be the world's greatest marksman, without a doubt, but this sort of annoyance wouldn't happen. Soon, however, the kid suddenly turned around and looked Rimau directly in the eyes, the invisible 'force' of which prompted Rimau's own eyes to widen and his the line that was his mouth to upturn in a more friendly manner. It was then he realised something; the kid was actually a woman. A square-jawed woman, sure, but still a woman. Those were some thick robes. The sort of robes Rimau would die in if he wore them. Deciding that you can always get more done in life if you're nice to people, Rimau decided to clamber down off of his stool and make his way over to the lady; as fun as it was to keep rivalries, most of the time it tended to be impractical and juvenile to insist on a professional rivalry with a specific individual, especially if the job was well-paying. Merely competing with other mercs and hunters was a fact of business. But 'sportsmanlike' rivalry? Laughable. "Heyo there, kid. Couldn't 'elp but notice y'took down that mighty interestin' job proposition off the wall. ...Can't say I've seen y'round 'ere before, either." He said as he approached the lady, that weird muffle effect the Tavern seemed to have turning on. He stopped to look her over, see if she was the trustworthy type. She was certainly a lot taller than she looked, even taller than most humans he'd seen, who all tended to be taller than Rimau anyway. Made them easier to target. Raising one brow, he looked over her scars; clearly, she had experience with fighting, then. You don't get the sorts of scars on her face from cutting yourself while shaving... not that she'd need to shave, but still. Her attire seemed to suggest a magic user; magic and him didn't get along too well, but its practitioners had their uses. Their flashy tricks were very distracting for most people, and Skrin'Ko was indeed bound to him by an enchantier. Very nice fellow, he was. After a few seconds, Rimau decided he may as well introduce himself; after all, a name doesn't convey much. But he kept his hands close to his body, in case she was the twitchy kind. "...Th'name's Rimau. Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku, but that's, uh... well, y'don't wanna know m'full name. Believe me, some'un once asked for it, an' lemme tell ya... uh, never mind. What's your name, kid?" He asked, smiling a little.</s>	<\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren quirked an eyebrow when the lizard man came over to her, and she finally looked him over. He dressed... he dressed in an interesting manner, with large goggles, and bright feathers on the side of some leather vest. His skin was a rather drab looking green, and from the cracks, he was probably very old. She smiled when he spoke to her finally, looking at the paper in her hand again. "Ah, well, I'm new. I... I travel a lot," she said finally, not bothering to make up some elaborate lie. No need. "I was hoping to find some work around here." He looked weathered, the type of person (lizard?) who had seen a lot, and she could respect that. She craned her neck down to look at him, and even then she couldn't see that much. She was at least a foot taller than him, but she felt that maybe it would be a bit rude to kneel down, so she decided not to. "My name is Mysaren," she said. "Pleasure to meet you, Rimau. It's alright, I don't...don't need a full name." Full names were perhaps too much. Hell, telling people her name in the first place made her itch, but she would look suspicious if she didn't. "Actually, Rimau, I was just about to go looking for someone who may assist me on this mission, yeah? Seems dangerous, and while I won't say that I'm not a good fighter, I could always use an extra hand. Were you also interested?" Maybe going on a mission with a strange lizard she just met wasn't the best of ideas, but he seemed trustworthy enough. Besides, if he did betray her, well, she could handle herself pretty well. She could probably pick him up if she truly wanted to, and she knew her way around a sword, as well as magic. Mysaren always preferred using magic, something that most folk didn't like, especially the type of magic she used. Necromancy was rather frowned upon, considering that bringing people back from the dead as nothing more than zombies to be controlled might be a bit of a problem for most people, but she hoped that Rimau didn't have any prejudices in that department. She was rather excited to go on a mission, and a good companion could be the difference between life and death for her.</s>
<\|description\|>Mysaren Race: Bean Nighe Gender: Female Age: 22 Occupation: Unemployed, robs graves for a living. Personality/Interests On the surface, she seems like a very easy person to talk to, someone who you can trust, someone who knows a lot about the world. On the inside, though, Mysaren just desperately wants to be accepted by people. One of her biggest fears is people not liking her. Mysaren can be seen as somewhat manipulative, lying and cheating to people often to get her way, although this is something that she is trying to fix. She's definitely not above dirty tricks in order to get what she wants, or sometimes needs. She's very good at feigning confidence, which is how she does her "job", by either brute force or pretending that she's supposed to be in area's that she's not supposed to go. Despite this, she's definitely loyal to those she cares about, and definitely tries to help her friends in family in any way she can. Mysaren is somewhat hot-headed, and has a very quick temper. On the inside, she's a very sensitive person, though. She takes a lot of things literally, and doesn't really appreciate jokes or teasing at all. She cares immensely about her family at home, and her greatest fear is something bad happening to them. Her entire life has been spent trying to support them the best she can, even stealing and cheating in order to get money. She's often very cheap, not liking to spend money frivolously, even if she has money. She has a bit of a mistrust for anyone with large amounts of money as well. Appearance Mysaren is a rather tall women, having the look of a warrior. She's muscular, with a chiseled, prominent jaw and square face. She has short, curly black hair, which barely goes past her ears, although her bangs cover her eyes if not pulled back. She has dark brown skin, which is marred with various scars. Her eyes are deep-set, and blue eyes that look like the deep end of the pool. Freckles cover a large amount of her face, and are lightly sprinkled on her shoulders. Details Body build: Muscular, well built. Hair: Short, curly. Hair color: Black. Skin color: Dark brown. Eye/Iris color: Dark blue. Height/Weight: 6'3, 185. Notable Features: Freckles, her arms and legs are somewhat covered in scars. Clothing Description She tends to wear long, dark purple robes with a gold trim around the edges, and a hood. Underneath, she wears a black tunic, a normal pair of pants which are brown, and a belt, which is covered in various small pockets and bags. She carries a larger, messenger bag that's made of black leather and has several runes carved into it. She also wears thick, black leather gloves, and rather strong, worn boots, made for travelling. Equipment A spell book and several other books, a few healing and mana potions, various materials for her spell work, a shovel, a lantern, and a bottle of oil. Weapon(s) Her wand, a knife, and a small sword. Powers Due to her years spent living in the darkness, she has a heightened sense of sight. Abilities She is able to tell when someone is about to die, although she can't get specifics on who/why/how. It's usually just a loud, wordless muttering in the back of her mind. Talents Hand to hand combat. Petty thievery Her persuasive power. Magic Deals primarily in Necromancy. Talking with the deceased, being able to call upon them in times of battle. Sessamaru - "He seems level-headed, but I am envious of his rather joyous personality." Historia - "A naive little bird. I do hope she at least knows enough to stay out of trouble." Saha - "Never much liked snakes." Katelia - "An annoyance." Julio - "He knows how to keep his mouth shut. I can respect that." Azzrix - "Pompous ass. I can't help but respect his ability to kill rich people though. Keeps me in business." Margaret - "I don't much respect greediness, but she's at least a good companion otherwise." Naida - "Rather nice. Pretty cute as well." Drubbins - "An idiot. Lovable, but an idiot." Tahira - "One of them brainy types, and not so good with people. Kinda painful to talk with her." Rimau - "He has a very similar sense of humor as me, and he's pretty friendly. I like him a lot." Claire - "Rather shy, but not bad to talk to. Could be a good friend." Viggo - "I can't stand him or his music." Rouen - "Some pretty rich boy who thinks he knows how the world works because he's lived in a nice castle all his life." Falen - "I respect him a lot. He kinda scares me sometimes though..."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau was about to look further into the job about the golden mask when the paper was suddenly taken off the board by some kid in fancy robes. He attempted to position himself in such a manner that he could continue reading, but no such luck; the kid was simply too big for him to not obscure Rimau's vision. He screwed up his face and grumbled for a brief moment. Alas, if he could see through solid objects, not only would he be the world's greatest marksman, without a doubt, but this sort of annoyance wouldn't happen. Soon, however, the kid suddenly turned around and looked Rimau directly in the eyes, the invisible 'force' of which prompted Rimau's own eyes to widen and his the line that was his mouth to upturn in a more friendly manner. It was then he realised something; the kid was actually a woman. A square-jawed woman, sure, but still a woman. Those were some thick robes. The sort of robes Rimau would die in if he wore them. Deciding that you can always get more done in life if you're nice to people, Rimau decided to clamber down off of his stool and make his way over to the lady; as fun as it was to keep rivalries, most of the time it tended to be impractical and juvenile to insist on a professional rivalry with a specific individual, especially if the job was well-paying. Merely competing with other mercs and hunters was a fact of business. But 'sportsmanlike' rivalry? Laughable. "Heyo there, kid. Couldn't 'elp but notice y'took down that mighty interestin' job proposition off the wall. ...Can't say I've seen y'round 'ere before, either." He said as he approached the lady, that weird muffle effect the Tavern seemed to have turning on. He stopped to look her over, see if she was the trustworthy type. She was certainly a lot taller than she looked, even taller than most humans he'd seen, who all tended to be taller than Rimau anyway. Made them easier to target. Raising one brow, he looked over her scars; clearly, she had experience with fighting, then. You don't get the sorts of scars on her face from cutting yourself while shaving... not that she'd need to shave, but still. Her attire seemed to suggest a magic user; magic and him didn't get along too well, but its practitioners had their uses. Their flashy tricks were very distracting for most people, and Skrin'Ko was indeed bound to him by an enchantier. Very nice fellow, he was. After a few seconds, Rimau decided he may as well introduce himself; after all, a name doesn't convey much. But he kept his hands close to his body, in case she was the twitchy kind. "...Th'name's Rimau. Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku, but that's, uh... well, y'don't wanna know m'full name. Believe me, some'un once asked for it, an' lemme tell ya... uh, never mind. What's your name, kid?" He asked, smiling a little.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren quirked an eyebrow when the lizard man came over to her, and she finally looked him over. He dressed... he dressed in an interesting manner, with large goggles, and bright feathers on the side of some leather vest. His skin was a rather drab looking green, and from the cracks, he was probably very old. She smiled when he spoke to her finally, looking at the paper in her hand again. "Ah, well, I'm new. I... I travel a lot," she said finally, not bothering to make up some elaborate lie. No need. "I was hoping to find some work around here." He looked weathered, the type of person (lizard?) who had seen a lot, and she could respect that. She craned her neck down to look at him, and even then she couldn't see that much. She was at least a foot taller than him, but she felt that maybe it would be a bit rude to kneel down, so she decided not to. "My name is Mysaren," she said. "Pleasure to meet you, Rimau. It's alright, I don't...don't need a full name." Full names were perhaps too much. Hell, telling people her name in the first place made her itch, but she would look suspicious if she didn't. "Actually, Rimau, I was just about to go looking for someone who may assist me on this mission, yeah? Seems dangerous, and while I won't say that I'm not a good fighter, I could always use an extra hand. Were you also interested?" Maybe going on a mission with a strange lizard she just met wasn't the best of ideas, but he seemed trustworthy enough. Besides, if he did betray her, well, she could handle herself pretty well. She could probably pick him up if she truly wanted to, and she knew her way around a sword, as well as magic. Mysaren always preferred using magic, something that most folk didn't like, especially the type of magic she used. Necromancy was rather frowned upon, considering that bringing people back from the dead as nothing more than zombies to be controlled might be a bit of a problem for most people, but she hoped that Rimau didn't have any prejudices in that department. She was rather excited to go on a mission, and a good companion could be the difference between life and death for her.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau stood and listened to Mysaren's proposition carefully, with his arms crossed and his eyes squinting with focus to let her know he was listening. "Well, as it 'appens, I was mighty interested in that particular employment opportunity." He replied, curtly. "An' from the looks o' yer, I'd bet m'grand-pappy's soul that y'were some kinda magic specialista." After he said that, he idly sniffed at the lady by sticking his long, reptilian tongue out for a brief second. It was half-unconscious really, an old habit of his. When a Zizz met a new colleague, it was considered normal to sniff at them to show that they trusted them enough to disregard any blood they may have on them. Which was quite often. Unfortunately for Rimau, though, the scent he picked up off Mysaren's robes made him wince slightly. She had the stench of death coming off her, there was no doubt. And not just the figurative stench of a killer, but a literal stench of corpses. "...Necromancy, p'raps?" He asked, in as friendly as polite a tone he could manage. If she was, it'd be understandable if she wanted to hide it, but Rimau had nothing against Necromancers. If anything, he thought zombies made for an excellent barrel of laughs on a dull day, and that's ignoring his religious beliefs. "...Skills like that work 'specially well as a distraction." He continued, with interest. "...Lemme tell ya, some kids get real touchy when they see dead folks walkin', an' that makes fer a mighty effective distraction. From, say, the barrel of a nice Rifle trained at their 'ead." He said with a slightly devilish grin, pointing at Skrin-Ko's stock on his back; if he was right about her being a Necromancer, it only seemed fair he let her know what his preferred form of combat was. "I think we could work well t'gether."</s>	<\|message\|>Mysaren It took a moment for Mysaren to decipher Rimau's accent, before she nodded. "Yeah, I dabble a bit in magic." She said, watching as Rimau sniffed her curiously. She noticed the wince and mentally slapped herself. He smelled the corpses, she could tell that much. "Yeah, Necromancy." She thanked the gods that he didn't ask why she smelled like that. If anyone found out about her robbing graves, well, she was in a crowded tavern. She could try to run, but she wouldn't get far, and that made her feel might claustrophobic. "They work for more than distractions," She said, glad that Rimau didn't seem to mind the necromancy thing, "They're not bad at fighting. Not great, but you know. Yeah, most people get a bit.. skeeved out by it. Never understood why." People's concerns and disgust with the idea of death confused Mysaren. Maybe she just grew up around so much of it, maybe her blessing/curse made her desensitized, but she saw nothing wrong or morbid about death. Death was just as natural as life to her, the two forces working together instead of in opposition. Mysaren smiled, noting the rifle on his back. It definitely looked dangerous, and Mysaren wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it. "I do think that we would make a rather effective team, no? Yes, we could split the reward." They'd get plenty from the mission, and then she could split her half of the reward, and everything would be fine. Yes, she could make this work. She considered telling Rimau about her gift, the muttering and screaming in her head, but decided against it. He didn't need to know that, at least not right now. A power like that could be exploited, and even if she thought that she could take on Rimau by herself, she wouldn't know what to do if someone else in the tavern heard, someone bigger and stronger with more friends. Someone who would use her power to do bad things. Someone who woul- she decided to not think anymore about bad things happening to her. "I'm ready when you are, chief."</s>
<\|description\|>Mysaren Race: Bean Nighe Gender: Female Age: 22 Occupation: Unemployed, robs graves for a living. Personality/Interests On the surface, she seems like a very easy person to talk to, someone who you can trust, someone who knows a lot about the world. On the inside, though, Mysaren just desperately wants to be accepted by people. One of her biggest fears is people not liking her. Mysaren can be seen as somewhat manipulative, lying and cheating to people often to get her way, although this is something that she is trying to fix. She's definitely not above dirty tricks in order to get what she wants, or sometimes needs. She's very good at feigning confidence, which is how she does her "job", by either brute force or pretending that she's supposed to be in area's that she's not supposed to go. Despite this, she's definitely loyal to those she cares about, and definitely tries to help her friends in family in any way she can. Mysaren is somewhat hot-headed, and has a very quick temper. On the inside, she's a very sensitive person, though. She takes a lot of things literally, and doesn't really appreciate jokes or teasing at all. She cares immensely about her family at home, and her greatest fear is something bad happening to them. Her entire life has been spent trying to support them the best she can, even stealing and cheating in order to get money. She's often very cheap, not liking to spend money frivolously, even if she has money. She has a bit of a mistrust for anyone with large amounts of money as well. Appearance Mysaren is a rather tall women, having the look of a warrior. She's muscular, with a chiseled, prominent jaw and square face. She has short, curly black hair, which barely goes past her ears, although her bangs cover her eyes if not pulled back. She has dark brown skin, which is marred with various scars. Her eyes are deep-set, and blue eyes that look like the deep end of the pool. Freckles cover a large amount of her face, and are lightly sprinkled on her shoulders. Details Body build: Muscular, well built. Hair: Short, curly. Hair color: Black. Skin color: Dark brown. Eye/Iris color: Dark blue. Height/Weight: 6'3, 185. Notable Features: Freckles, her arms and legs are somewhat covered in scars. Clothing Description She tends to wear long, dark purple robes with a gold trim around the edges, and a hood. Underneath, she wears a black tunic, a normal pair of pants which are brown, and a belt, which is covered in various small pockets and bags. She carries a larger, messenger bag that's made of black leather and has several runes carved into it. She also wears thick, black leather gloves, and rather strong, worn boots, made for travelling. Equipment A spell book and several other books, a few healing and mana potions, various materials for her spell work, a shovel, a lantern, and a bottle of oil. Weapon(s) Her wand, a knife, and a small sword. Powers Due to her years spent living in the darkness, she has a heightened sense of sight. Abilities She is able to tell when someone is about to die, although she can't get specifics on who/why/how. It's usually just a loud, wordless muttering in the back of her mind. Talents Hand to hand combat. Petty thievery Her persuasive power. Magic Deals primarily in Necromancy. Talking with the deceased, being able to call upon them in times of battle. Sessamaru - "He seems level-headed, but I am envious of his rather joyous personality." Historia - "A naive little bird. I do hope she at least knows enough to stay out of trouble." Saha - "Never much liked snakes." Katelia - "An annoyance." Julio - "He knows how to keep his mouth shut. I can respect that." Azzrix - "Pompous ass. I can't help but respect his ability to kill rich people though. Keeps me in business." Margaret - "I don't much respect greediness, but she's at least a good companion otherwise." Naida - "Rather nice. Pretty cute as well." Drubbins - "An idiot. Lovable, but an idiot." Tahira - "One of them brainy types, and not so good with people. Kinda painful to talk with her." Rimau - "He has a very similar sense of humor as me, and he's pretty friendly. I like him a lot." Claire - "Rather shy, but not bad to talk to. Could be a good friend." Viggo - "I can't stand him or his music." Rouen - "Some pretty rich boy who thinks he knows how the world works because he's lived in a nice castle all his life." Falen - "I respect him a lot. He kinda scares me sometimes though..."</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia watched as not only Mr. Grimmor left the group, but also Miss Mysaren followed suit as well, both of them going over to look for jobs at the board. "Uh, bye?" She called out to them before sitting back in her seat, continuing sipping on the drink Bernard was kind enough to give to her. She watched as the two found jobs and partners for themselves (or in Mr. Grimmor's case, rushing out the door to find his partners). Historia began to wonder if there would be that many jobs left as she watched people still look at all the jobs at the boards. Well, all the well paying jobs would most likely be taken, the ones that had higher difficulty. Historia didn't usually take those jobs, mainly cause she wasn't a very strong fighter. She preferred easier, albeit less paying most of the time, jobs. Historia looked at Miss Claire when she spoke up, asking about looking at the board. "Yes, I was going to take a look at the board anyways. It'd be nice to see what you might want to do as well." Historia told her with a smile as she got up and walked over with her to the board. There was only three jobs that really interested Histoira. A missing memory book that could be anywhere in the city, a quest to find a teenage thief, and a quest to find a lost dog. The dog one would most likely be the easiest to do for Historia as she could just fly above the city and look for it that way. But Miss Claire couldn't fly so that one was out of the question. AS for the one with the thief, Historia didn't really want to get involved with a quest that had a really good chance of confronting someone that might fight back. So for now, that also wasn't a good option. That left the memory book. That was something that she and Claire could do rather easily, and the quest giver was a nobleman so they might get paid decently after all. "Does this sound good to you?" Historia asked Miss Claire as she handed her the paper to look at.</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske "Come along if you want," she replied, her voice bored and uncaring as ever. "Guess you're a better pick than most of these other idiots." Kat was clearly on edge. Tahira was not an expert on interpreting body language, but the leopard was eyeing her master uneasily and, considering how close the two were, that was the only cue she needed to sense the woman's discomfort. However, she had long ago learned when it was best to stifle her curiosity. As long as it did not interfere with their mission, the diminutive woman's issues were none of her concern. Cocking her head to the side, she recalled something that might be of use to the two of them. "I believe the library holds a tome which refers to these 'Drakas' at some length," Tahira said. "You can make ready to depart while I retrieve it." Turning her back on the duo, she moved away from the job board and went through the door to the library. Her fingers traced a path along the spine of several books as she moved up and down the shelves, seeking the one she had mentioned. [i]Ah, there[i]. Her hand touched the well-worn bindings of a tome which was simply entitled On Shoba, and penned by an unknown scholar on the subject. She had yet to read it, but its inclusion in the tavern's surprisingly extensive library lent something to its credibility, so she removed it from the shelf, making a note of where it belonged. Leaving the library as quickly as she had entered, she ascended to the second floor to receive the leather satchel that hung from a hook in the wall of her room. Slipping the book into one of its pockets, she returned to the place she had left Kat, satisfied she was prepared.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat stood where Tahira left her for a moment, staring after the woman as she made her way to the library. Stuffing any memories she had down, she thought on the witch. She was a fair sort, didn't talk down to either Kat or Hel, smart, probably useful if you had her on your side… but something about her made Kat want to always know where she was. It was probably just her stoicism and ethereal nature that peaked Kat's curiosity, but still. She looked back to Hel, and said "Watch her, yeah?" This probably meant that any vindictive plans Kat had been concocting were off limits in regards to the jewel. She didn't know much about Tahira, but she struck her as someone respectful and dutiful. She'd probably frown on how Kat was not. The two made their way to their room in the tavern and Kat scooped up her bag, tossing things in or out of it as she thought of what they might need. Once they were done, they walked back to the kitchen and grabbed some handfuls of dried meat ("We killed it, we can take it," she called back to a waitress glaring at them) and filled her water flask from the tap. After that, they made their way back to the area by the board, Tahira already waiting for them. "You ready?" she asked.</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske Tahira was not waiting long for Kat's return, although she did have time to note those who had left on missions and those still discussing them. Rimau and a robed newcomer seemed to be conversing rather amicably, her attire seemed to indicate a knowledge of the arcane which piqued the mystic's curiosity. Perhaps she would find an occasion to speak with her at a later date, for now she still had to familiarize herself with the witch, Margaret. As Kat asked if she was ready, Tahira nodded solemnly. "The cave we seek lies within the forests of Barvra," she said, tugging the satchel higher on her shoulder and straightening her robes. "The journey there should not be too strenuous, but once we delve into the forests it will become rather dangerous," she had studied Elrikur's geography, and new where the forest lay. It would not be too long before they reached their outskirts, depending on how they set their pace.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Alrighty then." Rimau said as cheerfully as a fellow such as him is capable of, removing the mission paper from Mysaren's hands and into his so he could have a look at the bit he didn't read. "...Now, it says 'ere that these robbers 'ave 'oled their loathsome selves up in some kinda mountain range, right?" He affirmed, still glancing at the paper to see if there was any hidden details. Or hidden clauses designed to screw them out of their reward. It wouldn't be surprising in the slightest. Not that it ever dissuaded him; gave him something to do, at least. And the ones who tried to kill him had a nasty habit of getting bullets driven into their brains. "...This could mean one o' two things; either this mission'll be a piece o' cake, or it'll be the opposite o' cake. Like a... piece o' pie." He continued, scratching the side of his chin again. He finally cast his glance away from the paper and back at Mysaren, a look of purpose on him. Not too unlike that pauldron dumbass' look, actually. "...An' that depends entirely on whether or not these dumbasses 'ave decided to hide out in a cave or not. That said, if I know yer average dumbass crook, they tend to leave lots an' lots o' evidence on their path. Hell, I'm surprised guards across the land 'aven't formed their own divisions dedicated to analysin' evidence an' drawin' conclusions from that. Like a... crime scene investigation team or somethin'." With that hypothesis out the way, he proceeded to pin the paper back to the board before someone yelled at him; or the tavern started acting weird again. Like maybe the board would swallow the paper up, and his hand along with it. It was then he realised something, which made him rub his eyes and roll his shoulders about. Travelling. To a mountain range. Probably very cold. "Also, I don't s'pose y'ave some kinda transportation method?" He asked, in such a manner so as to not be too forthcoming with his dislike of cold climates. If he had to be in a cold climate, he could at least minimise the time spent. Not the time spotting, that was important. But the time travelling, on the other hand... "...Uh... not that I mind walkin'." He said once he realised he may have paused for a second too long. "I may be three-hundred-and-three, but I ain't decomposin' just yet. But when I start, I'll be sure to tell yer so y'can make preparations, heheheh... uh... that was a joke."</s>	<\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren let Rimau take the paper, slightly annoyed that the height advantage didn't really allow her to read facial expressions that well. She couldn't tell exactly how sarcastic that 'Alrighty then' was, and it made her vaguely uncomfortable. "Yeah, apparently. Doesn't sound like too much fun, but at least that narrows down where they could be. Not too much of a chase." Hopefully. She wasn't familiar with the mountains, and definitely not familiar with any hidden nooks and crannies someone could use to run out of there quickly. She crackled her knuckles absentmindedly as she thought of a plan of what to do. Just trap them in the mountains and kill the poor bastards sounded like the best idea. "Yeah, quite true, but I'm sure it won't be too much trouble. If we're lucky, all we have to do is trap them up there, a few quick slashes and shots, and done. We get the reward money, plus whatever those assholes have on them at the time." That would probably get them a bit more money, whatever those bandits have stashed away in that mountain. Hell, maybe more that they'd get from completing the damn mission. "Transportation? Uhm, I usually just walk," she said, having decided long ago that purchasing a horse was a waste of money and time, "but I suppose we could find something on the way there, yeah?" Hitch hiking was a terrible idea, but if, say, a few horses and a cart went missing in town, surely no one would notice, right? Well, either that, it they would get noticed and repeatedly shot to death. Neither sounded great, thinking about it. Mysaren chuckled at his joke, grinning. "Heh, it was good! Not many people joke about the entire necromancy thing, y'know. It's... refreshing." Most people just ran for the hills screaming or called her some kinda evil monster when they learned about the necromancy thing. It wasn't the most desirable forms of magic, but it was useful, especially in her line of work.</s>
<\|description\|>Mysaren Race: Bean Nighe Gender: Female Age: 22 Occupation: Unemployed, robs graves for a living. Personality/Interests On the surface, she seems like a very easy person to talk to, someone who you can trust, someone who knows a lot about the world. On the inside, though, Mysaren just desperately wants to be accepted by people. One of her biggest fears is people not liking her. Mysaren can be seen as somewhat manipulative, lying and cheating to people often to get her way, although this is something that she is trying to fix. She's definitely not above dirty tricks in order to get what she wants, or sometimes needs. She's very good at feigning confidence, which is how she does her "job", by either brute force or pretending that she's supposed to be in area's that she's not supposed to go. Despite this, she's definitely loyal to those she cares about, and definitely tries to help her friends in family in any way she can. Mysaren is somewhat hot-headed, and has a very quick temper. On the inside, she's a very sensitive person, though. She takes a lot of things literally, and doesn't really appreciate jokes or teasing at all. She cares immensely about her family at home, and her greatest fear is something bad happening to them. Her entire life has been spent trying to support them the best she can, even stealing and cheating in order to get money. She's often very cheap, not liking to spend money frivolously, even if she has money. She has a bit of a mistrust for anyone with large amounts of money as well. Appearance Mysaren is a rather tall women, having the look of a warrior. She's muscular, with a chiseled, prominent jaw and square face. She has short, curly black hair, which barely goes past her ears, although her bangs cover her eyes if not pulled back. She has dark brown skin, which is marred with various scars. Her eyes are deep-set, and blue eyes that look like the deep end of the pool. Freckles cover a large amount of her face, and are lightly sprinkled on her shoulders. Details Body build: Muscular, well built. Hair: Short, curly. Hair color: Black. Skin color: Dark brown. Eye/Iris color: Dark blue. Height/Weight: 6'3, 185. Notable Features: Freckles, her arms and legs are somewhat covered in scars. Clothing Description She tends to wear long, dark purple robes with a gold trim around the edges, and a hood. Underneath, she wears a black tunic, a normal pair of pants which are brown, and a belt, which is covered in various small pockets and bags. She carries a larger, messenger bag that's made of black leather and has several runes carved into it. She also wears thick, black leather gloves, and rather strong, worn boots, made for travelling. Equipment A spell book and several other books, a few healing and mana potions, various materials for her spell work, a shovel, a lantern, and a bottle of oil. Weapon(s) Her wand, a knife, and a small sword. Powers Due to her years spent living in the darkness, she has a heightened sense of sight. Abilities She is able to tell when someone is about to die, although she can't get specifics on who/why/how. It's usually just a loud, wordless muttering in the back of her mind. Talents Hand to hand combat. Petty thievery Her persuasive power. Magic Deals primarily in Necromancy. Talking with the deceased, being able to call upon them in times of battle. Sessamaru - "He seems level-headed, but I am envious of his rather joyous personality." Historia - "A naive little bird. I do hope she at least knows enough to stay out of trouble." Saha - "Never much liked snakes." Katelia - "An annoyance." Julio - "He knows how to keep his mouth shut. I can respect that." Azzrix - "Pompous ass. I can't help but respect his ability to kill rich people though. Keeps me in business." Margaret - "I don't much respect greediness, but she's at least a good companion otherwise." Naida - "Rather nice. Pretty cute as well." Drubbins - "An idiot. Lovable, but an idiot." Tahira - "One of them brainy types, and not so good with people. Kinda painful to talk with her." Rimau - "He has a very similar sense of humor as me, and he's pretty friendly. I like him a lot." Claire - "Rather shy, but not bad to talk to. Could be a good friend." Viggo - "I can't stand him or his music." Rouen - "Some pretty rich boy who thinks he knows how the world works because he's lived in a nice castle all his life." Falen - "I respect him a lot. He kinda scares me sometimes though..."</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Dogs like me." Said Drubbins happily at the snake bloke. He had no idea what Da Boss would want a dog returned to someone, but that was normal. Da Boss asks you to punch down a building you don't ask what's inside. Da Boss wants every slime in the area gathered up and shoved behind the same door, you don't ask why. Da Boss asks you to chop off your hand and let your blood spill into the stone circle, you ask "how much blood would ya like, Boss?" He was also happy to have someone to come with him. Most Bosses didn't trust Drubbins to handle anything more complex than krumping a bloke on his own, and most of them at least sent someone to make sure he'd Krumped the right bloke. He thumped his chest, threw the rest of the pancakes directly into his mouth, and garbled "You point me at dat Peanut and dat 'ouse and I'll do da rest."</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren "Oh, I understand. Uhm, you can borrow my cloak if you want, you know. I don't mind." Even if Rimau was tough, Mysaren didn't want to have to deal with a pissy Zizz all the way up some mountains. She could live without the cloak, being pretty used to the cold. Her cloak was mostly just to disguise herself, make her blend in a bit, but it also helped with self esteem issues. She scratched her arm idly. "I'm not a huge fan of mountains either, of course, but, well, hopefully the reward makes up for it," Maybe she could actually buy some form of transportation, a horse or a cart or something with the prize money. "Besides, a bunch of idiots who decided to hide up in the mountains shouldn't take us that long to dispatch, of course. We'll be out of there in no time." She didn't exactly know that, of course, but bandits and robbers weren't generally the smartest of people, especially if they left enough evidence for them to know where they were hiding, even if it was just a vague area. Mysaren followed Rimau to the door, and frowned when she poked her head out, and turned back in. Inside the tavern looked bright and well lit, sun streaming through the windows, but outside was overcast and dreary. She coughed as she poked her head out, and looked at the mountains Rimau was pointing at. "Yes, that should be it. Hm, doesn't seem too too far away. Even then, there has to be some form of trail up there if the robbers were able to get up there so fast. Hopefully it won't be that hard to find where they're hiding."</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Outside the Blue Moon Naida does not care of Azzrix comes along, but she does care about her share of the reward. Consider that he is a thief, he might wind up cheating them out of their share. But as Sessamaru says that he can come along, she has no argument against it. She begins walking again, looking down at the job. "So it says that the daughter is being held on the island out in the river by the Blue Moon. I know what river they speak of in this job, but I do not know which island. There are three islands on the river." She furrows her brown and looks at Sessamaru. "It doesn't matter anyways if neither of you can swim fast enough to keep up with me. Would either of you like for me to scout ahead see if I can find out which of the islands this poor girl is on?" As she is speaking, she hears the rush of the river and she can't help herself. She rushes toward the sound and stands at the very edge of a cliff that overhangs the water. She stares down at the water, a little bit of fear crossing over her mind. The last time that she had set foot in the water was three years ago, which was the last time that she had seen her father. As soon as she would set foot in the water, he would know that she had come back. But when she doesn't know is if he will come searching for her. She takes a deep breath and smiles back at Sess and the new fellow. That is a risk that she will have to take. She sucks in a little more air and steps off the cliff. There is no point in flapping her wings; the best way to have fun at getting turned into her mermaid form is just to drop into it. The icy cold water splashes up around her and she shivers slightly, but the change is imminent. She feels her legs meld together into one form and her wings shoot down her spine to her legs, enveloping her legs in a bluish silvery glow. Before long, she has a long, bluish silver tail flipping around underneath her. She smiles, unable to contain her joy, and she swims as fast as she can toward the surface, which is well a top of her now. She leaps out of the water like a dolphin, giving an excited whoop as she does. She then lands back in the water and floats on top of the surface, smiling up at Sess and Azzrix. "Come on, you guys! The water is amazing!"</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Well, if we're goin' by the assumption that these dumbasses came from town..." Rimau said, choosing to politely ignore the topic of mountains any further before it became distracting. "...They prob'ly used this road right 'ere." Rimau stepped outside, into the purely natural, gritty air of the outdoors, and 'sweeped' his pointed hand along the road towards the mountains. "...I mean, sure, they mighta been the show-off type an' scaled some walls, but roads tend to be the only viable way up mountains. F'good reason." Rimau proceeded to take a few strides down the cobbled road, in the direction of the mountain gate, and turned back to Mysaren, who he assumed was still inside. "...Unless y'got any other plans, I suggest we get goin'. Uh, no pressure, though. Those dumbasses are prob'ly makin' a mess o' their britches just thinkin' about retribution right now, heheh." With that, Rimau grabbed the sides of his goggles and slid them over his eyes; the sign that he was now in 'work' mode. Which reminded him; 'must remember to take that medicine when we get there. Last thing I need is a repeat o' the last Plat'num troll hunt... geez, maybe I'm gettin' too old f'this. ...Naaaah.' He finalised that line of thought with another devilish grin.</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was glad that the dog-like man was fine with him going with them on their mission and for once it seemed like he didn't have to use a lot of excellent persuasion skills to come along. He now thought of what was to come, if it was a kidnapping that they were dealing with then there was a good chance for combat, which made Azzrix smile a bit as he thought of getting a chance to show off his great swordsmanship. Azzrix listened to Naida explain the layout of the land and upon hearing that they would have to swim to the island he groaned. Azzrix knew how to swim, but he didn't like having to get his thief clothing wet and who knew how deep the river. He didn't voice any objection and after Naida asked she could scout ahead he watched her jump into the water and looked to be having the time of her life. Under different certumstances Azzrix would have laughed, but right now he was being very serious. "Is the water very deep and how far are the islands? I don't fancy drowning today" he replied to her, hesitant to jump into the water.</s> <\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era "You're a good right bloke, aren't 'cha?" Saha said in a saccharine tone, like she had found small animals responded better to a higher pitched, pleasant sound. "You'll make the Boss very happy when you've completed the mission. You'll split the rewards with me, yes?" She had to make sure the ogre knew what the deal was, for Bernard, the Priest or the couple might not care who got the reward as long as it was given out. Saha was in no mood to fight with the dumb Big Guy over some monies. She took the wrapped up steak and headed out of the Tavern. The sky had darkened considerably. The town wasn't faraway, its rows of short buildings and chimney smoke could be seen from a distance, and without a need to hurry too much, Saha strolled down the path with an appreciation for the humidity. When her partner had caught up to her, she said, "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. I am Saha of the Era tribe. What's your story, Big Guy?"</s>	<\|message\|>Mysaren "Hm, hopefully they did. Otherwise this is going to be a bit tricky." Mysaren said, still eyeing the mountains. This wasn't going to be fun at all, and she sighed deeply before digging in her bags to check her supplies. Nothing much right now, but enough for the journey. Mysaren followed, looking at the road that Rimau was looking at, coughing at the quality of the air. "Yeah, this should be it. So we just... follow this road and hope for the best then?" "Well, if they were carrying a solid gold mask, I'm assuming that they weren't going to be doing much climbing. Let's just follow the road, it'll be easier for us." Mysaren followed Rimau's strides, looking around the town. "Nah, leaving right now sounds pretty good. Haha, yeah. They won't even know what hit them." In fact, the mountains were probably the scariest part of this mission. Other than that, she had no real worries about getting the mask. She could do more than necromancy, and she liked to think that her scars and muscles proved that pretty well. She could handle herself, and she was sure that Rimau could handle himself too. Following Rimau, she flipped up her hood, her face now barely visible, the only part of her that could be seen out of the hood was a few wild bits of hair that she could never really tame. Intimidation was also a pretty good tactic, she learned long ago, and a strange, tall figure wearing robes definitely was intimidating to most folks, at least any with any brains.</s>
<\|description\|>Mysaren Race: Bean Nighe Gender: Female Age: 22 Occupation: Unemployed, robs graves for a living. Personality/Interests On the surface, she seems like a very easy person to talk to, someone who you can trust, someone who knows a lot about the world. On the inside, though, Mysaren just desperately wants to be accepted by people. One of her biggest fears is people not liking her. Mysaren can be seen as somewhat manipulative, lying and cheating to people often to get her way, although this is something that she is trying to fix. She's definitely not above dirty tricks in order to get what she wants, or sometimes needs. She's very good at feigning confidence, which is how she does her "job", by either brute force or pretending that she's supposed to be in area's that she's not supposed to go. Despite this, she's definitely loyal to those she cares about, and definitely tries to help her friends in family in any way she can. Mysaren is somewhat hot-headed, and has a very quick temper. On the inside, she's a very sensitive person, though. She takes a lot of things literally, and doesn't really appreciate jokes or teasing at all. She cares immensely about her family at home, and her greatest fear is something bad happening to them. Her entire life has been spent trying to support them the best she can, even stealing and cheating in order to get money. She's often very cheap, not liking to spend money frivolously, even if she has money. She has a bit of a mistrust for anyone with large amounts of money as well. Appearance Mysaren is a rather tall women, having the look of a warrior. She's muscular, with a chiseled, prominent jaw and square face. She has short, curly black hair, which barely goes past her ears, although her bangs cover her eyes if not pulled back. She has dark brown skin, which is marred with various scars. Her eyes are deep-set, and blue eyes that look like the deep end of the pool. Freckles cover a large amount of her face, and are lightly sprinkled on her shoulders. Details Body build: Muscular, well built. Hair: Short, curly. Hair color: Black. Skin color: Dark brown. Eye/Iris color: Dark blue. Height/Weight: 6'3, 185. Notable Features: Freckles, her arms and legs are somewhat covered in scars. Clothing Description She tends to wear long, dark purple robes with a gold trim around the edges, and a hood. Underneath, she wears a black tunic, a normal pair of pants which are brown, and a belt, which is covered in various small pockets and bags. She carries a larger, messenger bag that's made of black leather and has several runes carved into it. She also wears thick, black leather gloves, and rather strong, worn boots, made for travelling. Equipment A spell book and several other books, a few healing and mana potions, various materials for her spell work, a shovel, a lantern, and a bottle of oil. Weapon(s) Her wand, a knife, and a small sword. Powers Due to her years spent living in the darkness, she has a heightened sense of sight. Abilities She is able to tell when someone is about to die, although she can't get specifics on who/why/how. It's usually just a loud, wordless muttering in the back of her mind. Talents Hand to hand combat. Petty thievery Her persuasive power. Magic Deals primarily in Necromancy. Talking with the deceased, being able to call upon them in times of battle. Sessamaru - "He seems level-headed, but I am envious of his rather joyous personality." Historia - "A naive little bird. I do hope she at least knows enough to stay out of trouble." Saha - "Never much liked snakes." Katelia - "An annoyance." Julio - "He knows how to keep his mouth shut. I can respect that." Azzrix - "Pompous ass. I can't help but respect his ability to kill rich people though. Keeps me in business." Margaret - "I don't much respect greediness, but she's at least a good companion otherwise." Naida - "Rather nice. Pretty cute as well." Drubbins - "An idiot. Lovable, but an idiot." Tahira - "One of them brainy types, and not so good with people. Kinda painful to talk with her." Rimau - "He has a very similar sense of humor as me, and he's pretty friendly. I like him a lot." Claire - "Rather shy, but not bad to talk to. Could be a good friend." Viggo - "I can't stand him or his music." Rouen - "Some pretty rich boy who thinks he knows how the world works because he's lived in a nice castle all his life." Falen - "I respect him a lot. He kinda scares me sometimes though..."</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren "Yeah, of course. I've had people hunting me since I was a teenager, when I started practicing necromancy in the first place. Lots of small, god fearing towns who burns anyone who even looks like they practice magic at the stake. Necromancy is basically a target on your back, but necromancy is important, you know." Mysaren said, looking everywhere but at Rimau, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. Damn, it was going to be a pretty long walk to those mountains. Thank god she kept in shape. Mysaren knew she was probably suspicious, the random girl who walked into town, who was a necromancer and hanged around graveyards too much, and she tried to get that suspicion down as much as possible. "It's funny, that people think that magic is inherently evil. It's not. There's good magic users and there's bad magic users, just like there's good people that swing a sword and bad people that swing a sword." She wondered what category she would fit in. "I dunno. Magic seems pretty dangerous sometimes, it just depends on the person. Besides, most magic users are all for show. Make a little flame and you have people treating you like a god. That's why I chose necromancy, you know. It's one of the more honest types of magic. Not about manipulating people or catching things on fire, it's about life and death, and I guess there's nothing more honest than that." Mysaren looked behind her, the town gone now, the only thing left was the cover of trees and the smell of the forest. She took a deep breath, sighing. Forests were nice, nice and quiet. She could at least rest easy before having to go up to the mountains. At that point, her head would almost constantly be screaming at her, the constant sound of death near her. It would probably be a blood bath.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "That's true." Rimau said, acknowledging Mysaren's affirmation of the world's grey morality scales. "'Course, where I come from, they didn't think o' magic in moral terms. More in... ethical terms, if y'know what I mean." Rimau scratched the back of his head as he stopped briefly to observe a small fork in the road. He had to lift one of his goggle lenses off his eye for a moment since the mountains were obscured by thick forestation. As he was doing this, he idly asked "B'what makes y'think Necromancy is real important an' 'onest compared t'all the other magicist disciplines?" The old Zizz paused for a moment, when it dawned on him that the lady might take the question the wrong way, thus forcing a verbal cut-and-paste before professional discipline broke down. He's seen it happen before. More than a person should, if professional organisation in general is to be trusted. "...Just out o' curiousity, y'understand. Believe me, I'm in no position t'be judgin' folks." Listening to whatever Mysaren had to say about this, he eventually turned left, placing his lenses back on his properly, and continued down the path. But it wasn't long before he idly sniffed the air with his tongue, and could sense that familiar stench of death again. Except this time it was coming from in front of him, so it couldn't have been Mysaren. He stopped and held his hand up. "...D'you smell that, kid? ...There's a body 'round 'ere somewhere." He paused and sniffed again, turning his head towards what looked like a ditch just beyond a lining of trees.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren "I understand. Still the same concept, though." Mysaren said, glad that Rimau agreed with her. She was always afraid of finding someone who didn't agree with magic, and she'd end up dead in a ditch somewhere. "Necromancy, well, it's not just about raising people from the dead you know. It's about harnessing death, harnessing people's energy, speaking with the dead, even. It's death, and death is important, Rimau, as important as anything else, because death isn't the end, it's a new beginning! Death is just shedding your old skin and moving on to a higher plane, to explore new places and go on more adventures." Mysaren perhaps was a bit too passionate about death. "Oh, I know, it's alright. " She said, stopping when he held his hand up. Mysaren sniffed as well, the familiar smell of corpses filling her nose. She sighed. "Yes, I do." She said, turning towards the ditch as well. Mysaren walked towards where Rimau was looking, to pull back a few branches and see the body that was in the ditch. "Recently dead, judging by the sword wound in his stomach it wasn't natural causes. " She stepped towards the body, kneeling down and looking it over. "Rimau, come here. I want to try something."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "...Poor bastard." Rimau said, following after Mysaren to marvel at the dead fellow. Just goes to show desensitised both of them were to death. Most people would probably keel over and eject last week's breakfast onto the grass. "Does that look like a robber to... hmm?" Rimau was about to ask the sort of questions that might be asked by the hypothetical 'crime scene investigation' people he dreamed up earlier, but that was overwritten with intrigue once Mysaren offered to show him something. Probably something involving the corpse. "Well, y'do whatever it is, an' I ain't gonna ask questions. Yer the dead people expert after all, heh."</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren nodded. "Died pretty violent, it looks like. " She said, inspecting the body more, her gloved hands playing over the bag on the ground. She flipped it open and frowned. "Looted." "Does look an awful lot like a robber. Let me try this." She pulled a bundle of herbs from her pack, and lit a match to set the herbs on fire. She waved the herbs over the body, lowly chanting in strange language. With that, the body beneath them opened it's eyes, and it's head turned towards Mysaren. "Who are you?" It asked. "How did you die?" Mysaren said, straight to the point. She kept waving the herbs over the body, and she didn't have much time. She needed the information fast. "Tried to steal some mask from my buddies. They stabbed me in the bloody stomach!" The corpse said, the voice sounding distant and strange. Mysaren nodded. "Where are your buddies now? I can get revenge on them for you." Revenge was usually what motivated most ghosts. The corpse was silent, before it spoke again. "Up in them mountains. There's a weird, pointy rock, looks like pyramid shape, yeah? That marks where they are. Can you kill the bastards for me?" Mysaren grinned. "Of course." With that, she blew out the herbs, and the corpse went still again, it's eyes closing.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau looked on with bewilderment as he saw Mysaren do... whatever it was she was doing. The sight of a corpse talking was... it was the sort of thing he'd seen in nightmares. He'd never in a million years suspected he'd actually see it happen, even with the hundreds and hundreds of other weird things he'd seen throughout his life. Perhaps it was symbolic. Then again, he couldn't help but snicker to himself when the ex-alive person said he was stabbed in the 'bloody stomach'. It certainly was a bloody stomach. "...Huh." He finally 'said' once the dead kid returned to his natural state. "...Well, promise is a promise, I ain't askin' questions... much as I'd like to." He mumbled the last part under his breath. Maybe he'd ask questions later. Like what would happen if he smoked those herbs. "So 'e say's 'ere's a Pyramid rock in front o' the cave, eh?" Rimau finally got back on task, turning away from the body to get set on the road again. "...Why'd I get the feelin' I heard o' that before..."</s>	<\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren stood and threw the burnt bundle of herbs into a nearby bush, looking over at Rimau. "Uhm, sorry, probably should've warned you about that," She said, dusting off her robes and climbing out of the ditch to look back down the path. "and you can ask as many questions as you want, I don't particularly care. Questions are perfectly fine." Mysaren didn't blame him if he wanted to ask questions, considering she didn't exactly warn him about what she was going to do with the corpse. She looked into her bag. She still had a few bundles of those herbs if she needed to talk to any more dead, good. "Yeah, pyramid rock. That at least makes the place a bit easier to find, yeah?" She said, chewing on her lip as she waited for Rimau to lead the way to the mountains. She didn't really like leading anyways. She looked back down at the body as she waited. There was always a chance of the corpse doing something... weird after she talked to it, but it seemed to be perfectly fine. Well, as fine as a dead thing could be.</s>
<\|description\|>Historia Saurvale Race: Aviator (human with wings that isn't an angel) Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: odd jobs doer, sometimes messenger and sometimes courier Personality: Historia is a rather laid back person. She is also a little naive, not quite knowing how the world works yet. She's kind of quiet, not because she's shy but because she's trying to take things in and learn. She will often address people, no matter how they look or act, very formally until she gets to know them. Interests: Shes interested in seeing parts of the world, but for now the area's around the Blue Moon Tavern will suffice. Appearance Details Body build: Small and lanky. Hair: to her shoulders but usually kept up Hair color: a soft brown Skin color: slightly tan Eye/Iris color: dark brown (usually hid behind a pair of goggles) Height: 5'2" Weight: 125 pounds Notable Features: Her two wings (her left black and her right brown) and her goggles. Clothing Description Well fitting shirts and pants that she can easily fly in. Equipment Cloth and light leather armor that offers some protection without being too heavy to fly in. Weapon(s) A foldable bow she usually keeps in a pack on her belt and a quiver that's also attached to her belt and it has a lid over it when she doesn't need any arrows. Powers She's an extremely fast flier and is very good at maneuvering in the sky and near the ground. Abilities Flight and flexibility. Talents Is decent with a bow. She can't out shoot the best of them, but could survive with it if you left her out in the wild with it. She also can read and write and is pretty good with puzzles and riddles. Magic None. Trivia She has poor eyesight, which is why she always has on the goggles as they were specifically built to be like glasses. She also doesn't drink alcohol. Sessamaru : "Well he seems nice and calm...reminds me a bit of how my grandfather was. I wouldn't mind getting to know him better." Saha Thulaja Era : "...I'm not going to lie, she looks a little intimidating. But looks alone doesn't make a person so I'll see how she is in time." Katelia : "Shes rowdy yes, but well..." Historia rubs her right arm, "She's stronger willed than I, I think." Julio : "I am very conflicted." Azzrix Grimmor : "Has amazing stories and likes to talk about himself a good deal. I'll certainly learn a lot about him...and other things, if I hang out around him a lot." Margaret von Eisenberg :"I don't quite agree with how she gets money sometimes, but overall she doesn't seem that bad..." Naida Marcoon :"Miss Naida is very nice, even to some of the ruder customers. I admire her for that." Drubbins :"Mr. Drubbins seems nice enough while on his own. I think he just needs some guidance to make sure it stays that way. I would hate to see someone that puts their loyalty so quickly into others, be lead by someone with bad intentions." Mysaren : "I could see getting along with her as she doesn't seem like the bad sort. She definitely could teach me how to save money better." Tahira Raske Madame Raske is very knowledgeable, and she reminds me of one of my favorite teachers back home. I hope she can teach me a few things as well." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku : "Mr. Rimau reminds me of quite a few of the elders back home, with the way he tells stories and jokes...but sometimes his version of humor doesn't go along with mine..." Claire Alexandria :"I don't really understand Claire, or rather why someone so nice and gentle looking would want to take up a sword, but she's very well trained with it and she must have her reasons. She seems rather...isloated, so I hope she manages to find someone to be close with. Perhaps I could be a friend to her?" Viggo Malmsteen: "I like music as much as the next person, and if all I had to listen to was Mr. Malmsteen's music, I think that would be fine. He puts a lot of himself into the music and it shows. I can admire such dedication...as it might be the only thing I can find at the moment to admire about the man." Rouen Fulgur: "Sir Fulgur is someone I can respect." Felan the Wolf: "He has a feel of being wiser than his age. He certainly understands nature much better than some of us ever will."</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was slightly disappointed that Kat hadn't taken the mug he had offered, but she did already have one. He then heard the orge's response and even though he kept a straight face Azzrix had a vein bulging on his head. How dare this creature make his offer of help a game, if he wasn't of noble birth then he would have taken this beast's head. Even though his mind was thinking violent thoughts Azzrix still smiled at the inferior creature before him. "You're a funny one ogre, what is your name, you do have a name right?" he asked with a smile still imagining throwing a knife at him. He took sips of his mead and felt his anger calm down for a bit. He was waiting to see what kind of mission he could take to earn some money and also see if there would be a chance for him to steal from a challenging wealthy person, maybe he would also get an assassination mission. God only knows when he would get a chance to practice his assassin skills on a mission and he wondered how well the others would do on such missions. Azzrix was more interested in working with magic users, muscle was good, but he had plenty of that and anymore stealthy people would mean that he would lose the franchise, he had enough stealth. Magic on other hand he had none of and so getting a good magic user to work with him would open up a whole world of possibility and fencing magical artifacts would get him a really great amount of gold, he's heard stories about some magic guilds being loaded thanks some of them being able to make gold with their magic. Azzrix especially would love to get his hands on the alchemy formula to create gold if it existed, an infinite amount of gold would be very useful for expanding his family's influence and ambitions of his own.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Dat'd be Drubbins." The Ogre announced proudly. "Dats da name..." He quiets down, thinking back. Drubbins didn't have the best memory in the world. He remembered general things, but who's and where's and when's generally leaked out of his head between bosses. He didn't consider this a bad thing, it cleared space for all the new people he'd be putting in his head, but even he wouldn't forget a life changing encounter. "Dats da name I was givin' by Malia Burg, da Source-ress, on account a my big 'ands and what I could do wif 'em."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire listened intently to Historia as she answered her question, nodding slightly here and there. As soon as her...friend, here got her food, Claire worked up the courage to try her own. Clearly far behind Mysaren, she took a few dainty bites of her meal. Honestly she was quite hungry, but she never knew eating any other way. "It certainly is..." Claire stopped to look around the place, choosing a word for the tavern. "Warm." She finished. She regarded the large ogre, now enjoying a drink with the stoic barhand and ratman. Next was the white haired boy with animal ears. He was the source of the magic earlier...The cheery blue, working as she wanted, and another new face. A reptilian man smoking to himself at another seat..."and interesting." She continued before going back to eating. Her food was warm and quite good, not what she was used to, but she was enjoying it so far. As she ate she on and off watched her two companions. They were quite different people, but they didn't seem bad. "Thank you." She added softly, avoiding eye contact. She didn't know what exactly she was thanking them for, but it seemed right.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) The tavern was certainly getting lively. People were bustling this way and that, mingling with each other, and Kat was just about done with all this for the day. Entertaining characters aside, she was tired. Hunting in the forest all night tended to be a draining experience. Kat knew, tired as she was, any reservations she had about making smartass comments would be all but gone. And Hel could only hold her back so much. "Well," she said with an exaggerated sigh, patting Hel on his great furry head to signal it was time. "This has been a pleasure, my lord," she said to Azzrix, "but I really must be going." Hel got up so Kat could stand. It was time for a nice nap in the forest. She had a permanent room at the tavern, but if the magical mishap had been any indication for the day, it would be too rowdy here to get any rest. On their way out as they weaved through the crowd, Kat saw some people that made her reconsider. The Zizz was out and about, which usually meant a fun time. And Felan had just entered in his quiet way. He wasn't as lively, but Hel was fond enough of him. Kat just gave them both quick nods as she left. When they finally got outside, Hel almost immediately shoved her back through the door. A frantic horse, wild and riderless was thundering towards them. The snow leopard jumped in front of her, baring his fangs and hissing at the mare. The horse slid to a stop, tearing up her front legs with a screech. And then she was turning, dashing away from the two of them. Lowering his hackles, Hel relaxed his stance, while Kat just looked after the horse, eyebrow raised. It was then that she saw the horse's rider, flat on the ground. Glancing at Hel, she walked around her companion to squat next to the man. "Trouble with your horse?" she said slyly, A smirk making its way onto her face. Hel plodded up beside her and nudged him a bit with his nose, sniffing.</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske Although she didn't quite agree, Tahira smiled at the comment about Viggo's music as she sat down in the chair Margaret had offered her. The charm that the witch was referring to intrigued her, as their magic both strayed along a similar path, so she pulled back her hood far enough to expose her amber eyes so that she could see it in detail. Her senses were still upset from the earlier shock, but she could still identify the trinket's energy. She was capable of making her own enchantments, but she preferred keeping them temporary, which meant she wasn't arrayed in enchanted items unless she was going out on one of the few missions that caught her attention. In three months, she had only found a handful of jobs that interested her. Realizing she had been silent for a second longer than was comfortable, Tahira looked up from the charm. "How long have you practiced the arts?" she asked, hesitant at the personal question. However, magic users were so dynamic in skill and knowledge it was natural for her to be curious.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Viggo concludes his ballad and scowls for a minute at the denizens of the tavern, glancing down to find his pail of coins just as full as it had been when he began playing. He grumbles something to himself as he slings his guitar around his back, hopping off the stage and sauntering over to the bar to grab a drink, knowing that for his next song, he'd need his voice to be "well oiled". Putting down a small tower of coins harvested from his donation pail, the bard glances towards Bernard and puts on a guise of friendliness. "Bernard, you stoic son of a bitch, how about a couple of beers" he chimes with a handsome, albeit toothy grin. Assuming he gets his due alcohol, having paid the price in silver, Viggo would return to the stage, sitting down cross legged as he ploughs through the two drinks, abolishing the first in half a minute before swiftly moving onto the next. Once sufficiently drowsed by the beer, Viggo stands once more, kicking the stool backwards and out of the way. Drawing his guitar from his back once more, he adopts a wide-legged stance before he begins to pluck once more at the strings of instrument. The new song begins much like the one before, though after a few seconds the noise of his guitar shifts to become much more metallic and offensive to some ears. The powerful riffs ring out from the instrument with an energetic wave, inspiring courage and vigour in all that listen, unless of course your will is powerful enough to resist Viggo's musical charms. As the song finds its pace, Viggo begins to rock his head up and down with thumping rhythm, causing his hair to flow in time with his movements.</s>	<\|message\|>Historia Saurvale "You're welcome." Historia told Miss Claire with a smile, though she wasn't quite sure what she was thanking her for? For answering her question was the most likely reason Historia could come up with. As Historia started to eat though, she noticed that Miss Mysaren seemed...well hungry for one thing. She was glad that Miss Mysaren was able to get a meal. But she also seemed, nervous? Scared? A bit of both? Well, that whole commotion with the energy, getting hit with Historia's wings, among the many other exciting things that had happened were probably the cause of it. Historia decided that she had to do something to take her mind off of that. "Um..." Historia said between bites. "My last name is Saurvale. I'm from the floating islands of Anemoi."She paused, taking another bite and trying to figure out what else to say. "I'm currently saving up money to start traveling again. I kind of ran out when I got to this city. In fact, the first day I arrived, I got pickpocketed, which is always wonderful to find out." Historia said with sarcasm before coughing some with the smoke. She waved her hand in front of her face to clear some of the smoke away before continuing. "I found myself in this Tavern, hoping to buy some food. Thankfully, even though I didn't have money, someone was kind enough to pay for my meal. I hope to find the kind patron and pay them back before I leave, though I don't know when that'll be." Historia finished with a smile before shifting her attention to the stage. "The bard is certainly getting more energetic with his tunes isn't he?" She added after a few moments of listening to the song.</s>
<\|description\|>Historia Saurvale Race: Aviator (human with wings that isn't an angel) Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: odd jobs doer, sometimes messenger and sometimes courier Personality: Historia is a rather laid back person. She is also a little naive, not quite knowing how the world works yet. She's kind of quiet, not because she's shy but because she's trying to take things in and learn. She will often address people, no matter how they look or act, very formally until she gets to know them. Interests: Shes interested in seeing parts of the world, but for now the area's around the Blue Moon Tavern will suffice. Appearance Details Body build: Small and lanky. Hair: to her shoulders but usually kept up Hair color: a soft brown Skin color: slightly tan Eye/Iris color: dark brown (usually hid behind a pair of goggles) Height: 5'2" Weight: 125 pounds Notable Features: Her two wings (her left black and her right brown) and her goggles. Clothing Description Well fitting shirts and pants that she can easily fly in. Equipment Cloth and light leather armor that offers some protection without being too heavy to fly in. Weapon(s) A foldable bow she usually keeps in a pack on her belt and a quiver that's also attached to her belt and it has a lid over it when she doesn't need any arrows. Powers She's an extremely fast flier and is very good at maneuvering in the sky and near the ground. Abilities Flight and flexibility. Talents Is decent with a bow. She can't out shoot the best of them, but could survive with it if you left her out in the wild with it. She also can read and write and is pretty good with puzzles and riddles. Magic None. Trivia She has poor eyesight, which is why she always has on the goggles as they were specifically built to be like glasses. She also doesn't drink alcohol. Sessamaru : "Well he seems nice and calm...reminds me a bit of how my grandfather was. I wouldn't mind getting to know him better." Saha Thulaja Era : "...I'm not going to lie, she looks a little intimidating. But looks alone doesn't make a person so I'll see how she is in time." Katelia : "Shes rowdy yes, but well..." Historia rubs her right arm, "She's stronger willed than I, I think." Julio : "I am very conflicted." Azzrix Grimmor : "Has amazing stories and likes to talk about himself a good deal. I'll certainly learn a lot about him...and other things, if I hang out around him a lot." Margaret von Eisenberg :"I don't quite agree with how she gets money sometimes, but overall she doesn't seem that bad..." Naida Marcoon :"Miss Naida is very nice, even to some of the ruder customers. I admire her for that." Drubbins :"Mr. Drubbins seems nice enough while on his own. I think he just needs some guidance to make sure it stays that way. I would hate to see someone that puts their loyalty so quickly into others, be lead by someone with bad intentions." Mysaren : "I could see getting along with her as she doesn't seem like the bad sort. She definitely could teach me how to save money better." Tahira Raske Madame Raske is very knowledgeable, and she reminds me of one of my favorite teachers back home. I hope she can teach me a few things as well." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku : "Mr. Rimau reminds me of quite a few of the elders back home, with the way he tells stories and jokes...but sometimes his version of humor doesn't go along with mine..." Claire Alexandria :"I don't really understand Claire, or rather why someone so nice and gentle looking would want to take up a sword, but she's very well trained with it and she must have her reasons. She seems rather...isloated, so I hope she manages to find someone to be close with. Perhaps I could be a friend to her?" Viggo Malmsteen: "I like music as much as the next person, and if all I had to listen to was Mr. Malmsteen's music, I think that would be fine. He puts a lot of himself into the music and it shows. I can admire such dedication...as it might be the only thing I can find at the moment to admire about the man." Rouen Fulgur: "Sir Fulgur is someone I can respect." Felan the Wolf: "He has a feel of being wiser than his age. He certainly understands nature much better than some of us ever will."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Goddamn, that racket..." the old Zizz mumbled to himself some more as he let the herbal sensation roll around on the inside of his toothy snout. It would appear as though the newfangled magic rays of the man... woman... something-or-other had counteracted the calming essence of his Pipe. To take his mind off it, he eavesdropped on the two ladies conversing next to him. One of them, a winged girl who he vaguely recalled catching a glimpse of for a fraction of a second before, looked a bit strange, but that was, ironically, not very strange to a man like Rimau. The other one he didn't recognise, but he couldn't help but nod to himself as he listened to her talk about the dangers of naivete. Valuable stuff to teach a kid, of which there were too many who weren't taught that. Good news for him, though, was the re-appearance of Miss Naida, possibly the prettiest and most efficient bartender this side of... anywhere, really. The grin came back to him as he removed his Pipe and began to ramble to her. "Well, well, if it ain't my favourite bartender for the past week? Y'know, most bartenders I've seen don't 'ave wings an' can't flit about everywhere in a storm all fancy-like, an' that's pretty crazy 'cause it makes yer job real easy. Like, mint cash for nothin'-level easy. Reminds me o' this guy I saw once who set up his own bean farm, an'... well, it was pretty complicated, like, he had to sign a good mountain o' paperwork to even get 'imself the pen to sign the first of fifty million contracts with, an' there were, like, several thousand clauses designed to extort yer outta yer first-born son's soul... why's it always the first-born son, anyway? I mean, what 'ave all the devils got against the ladies? Hell, for that matter, why's it always virgin sacrifices? I'da thought the more experienced types would'a been considered, 'cause if yer gonna kill someone for some crazy kid in the sky, why bother bein' fussy? As if they 'ad standards all of a sudden? Pfft. That's a big problem we got nowadays, there ain't no professional standards, like that kid over there with his crappy 'music', an' if that were written down, that'd be in inverted commas, 'cause quite frankly, I dunno what he thinks he's achievin' tryin' to brainwash us into givin' him money with his fancy-shmancy magic rays. Look at 'at, backfire! I just got the courage to speak out against the lack o' professional standards in this day an' age! I remember a time an' a place where if you didn't 'ave standards, bullet to the 'ead fer you, hahahaha! Ahhh..." It only then dawned on him that she might not be particularly interested in his rambling, especially after he noticed her mumbling to some other kid, the one with dog ears glued to his skull. He took another puff of his Pipe to clear his head again. It was too early to be making a bad impression. "Sorry 'bout that, y'know I get a lil'... distracted when I ain't workin'. Anyways, lovely miss Naida, I don't s'pose y'could get me m'mornin' glass o' Orange Juice? I don't get these kiddos, I mean, look at 'em! Drinkin' Ale in the mornin'?! What kinda conduct is 'at? I once saw this one lady who drank a keg o' ale one Saturday mornin', an' lemme tell ya... uh... never mind. Y'ad to be there, anyways."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nearly dropped her fork when the music she had mostly ignored took a new turn. She felt a little...different. Restless? Not possible...she just spend a night in an alley, sleep hadn't been good. The same clenching feeling was clasping her chest. Magic? Was it the musician? She gave a searching look for the sound. Through the smoke, the many moving bodies and other obstructions, they barely caught the man thrashing about. Interesting, annoying, angering. A shaky sigh left the small woman. As if to calm her, her winged partner began to speak once more. Sharing pieces of her past and who she was. In turn, the third party of the trio gave her piece. A bit more to the point, a bit less informative. Not so jumpy anymore apparently? "...I'm afraid I have to agree with her Historia dear...Sometimes your past is to be...retained." She thought for a moment. "Though It doesn't seem you have anything to hide, which is quite..." She searched for a word. "Magical..." she decided. Her voice trailed off at that last word. Her tone was, sad, almost, but perhaps more so it seemed to be...longing. Perhaps envious. She tried to give a smile to accompany the word, but it didn't really find it's way out. "Thank you for sharing." She added softly. "Both of you..." She realized she had hardly addressed the other girl. Perhaps she should be making some effort to do so...</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan sat quietly at his table as he waited, looking around at the patrons inside the tavern. There were a few new faces, but most he'd seen before. The girl that stayed here often, her name escaped him, was roaming about with her leopard. Felan was impressed by the creature. He had slightly embarrassed himself upon seeing it for the first time, having assumed it was a fellow skin changer. Obviously, that was not the case. He noticed an ogre was among the people bustling around, and Felan's lip curled slightly. He didn't care much for their kind, having had not-so-good experiences with them in the past. Of course, as long as the creature didn't act up, he wouldn't purposely cross paths with him. Another patron caught his eyes: a younger man casting magic on another customer. Felan watched, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Magic was not his forte. He didn't do it, didn't like it, and typically tried to avoid it. Before long, Naida swung by to take his order. Of course he just wanted his regular; Felan was a man of habit. Soon, it was on a plate in front of him: a juicy cut of meat, cooked very rare, and a glass of ale. His large hands fumbled with the eating utensils as he attempted to cut his food up. When at home, he wouldn't even bother. But in public, Felan made an attempt to appear remotely civilized.</s>	<\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia quietly listened to the advice Miss Mysaren shared with her, noticing that Miss Claire was also in agreement. Historia smiled at the both of them cheerfully. "I don't quite believe I gave that much away." She told them. "Anybody with any knowledge of the Anemoi islands would know that's where I hail from. It's the only place that I know of where you can find my race. My name is my name, I would have to be really in trouble if I was trying to hide it. And for what else I told you, it's what happened a week ago in this very Tavern, and there's not much there to use against me, but I do appreciate the advice. There's not a lot of people here that be so kind to do that." Plus...if they really wanted dirt on Historia...well, her wings were more than enough really to a specific few. She paused a moment, wondering if perhaps anyone was looking for her. She really hadn't thought of it till now... Historia was pulled from her thoughts when Miss Claire said that it didn't seem like Historia had anything to hide and that was magical. "Ah, thank you Miss Claire." Historia told her, smiling even brighter. "But if I'm to refrain from speaking of my past, we should perhaps find something else to talk about...it'll hopefully take my mind off the music that currently playing." She told them with a hint of annoyance. Historia had no problem with the music itself. It was the spell that went with it. Not that Historia had any problems with magic either (though it wasn't till recently that she had even first got exposed to magic in general), but she didn't like for spells to be casted on her without her permission. This spell in particular made her wings twitch, like she should just get up and fly right out of the Tavern and into the wild blue yonder. Which would not have been a good plan as she did not have the funds to leave yet. "So," Historia said, pulling up her googles to rub her eyes, trying to be less annoyed as annoyance could lead to poor judgement. "Is there anything you two would like to discuss?"</s>
<\|description\|>Historia Saurvale Race: Aviator (human with wings that isn't an angel) Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: odd jobs doer, sometimes messenger and sometimes courier Personality: Historia is a rather laid back person. She is also a little naive, not quite knowing how the world works yet. She's kind of quiet, not because she's shy but because she's trying to take things in and learn. She will often address people, no matter how they look or act, very formally until she gets to know them. Interests: Shes interested in seeing parts of the world, but for now the area's around the Blue Moon Tavern will suffice. Appearance Details Body build: Small and lanky. Hair: to her shoulders but usually kept up Hair color: a soft brown Skin color: slightly tan Eye/Iris color: dark brown (usually hid behind a pair of goggles) Height: 5'2" Weight: 125 pounds Notable Features: Her two wings (her left black and her right brown) and her goggles. Clothing Description Well fitting shirts and pants that she can easily fly in. Equipment Cloth and light leather armor that offers some protection without being too heavy to fly in. Weapon(s) A foldable bow she usually keeps in a pack on her belt and a quiver that's also attached to her belt and it has a lid over it when she doesn't need any arrows. Powers She's an extremely fast flier and is very good at maneuvering in the sky and near the ground. Abilities Flight and flexibility. Talents Is decent with a bow. She can't out shoot the best of them, but could survive with it if you left her out in the wild with it. She also can read and write and is pretty good with puzzles and riddles. Magic None. Trivia She has poor eyesight, which is why she always has on the goggles as they were specifically built to be like glasses. She also doesn't drink alcohol. Sessamaru : "Well he seems nice and calm...reminds me a bit of how my grandfather was. I wouldn't mind getting to know him better." Saha Thulaja Era : "...I'm not going to lie, she looks a little intimidating. But looks alone doesn't make a person so I'll see how she is in time." Katelia : "Shes rowdy yes, but well..." Historia rubs her right arm, "She's stronger willed than I, I think." Julio : "I am very conflicted." Azzrix Grimmor : "Has amazing stories and likes to talk about himself a good deal. I'll certainly learn a lot about him...and other things, if I hang out around him a lot." Margaret von Eisenberg :"I don't quite agree with how she gets money sometimes, but overall she doesn't seem that bad..." Naida Marcoon :"Miss Naida is very nice, even to some of the ruder customers. I admire her for that." Drubbins :"Mr. Drubbins seems nice enough while on his own. I think he just needs some guidance to make sure it stays that way. I would hate to see someone that puts their loyalty so quickly into others, be lead by someone with bad intentions." Mysaren : "I could see getting along with her as she doesn't seem like the bad sort. She definitely could teach me how to save money better." Tahira Raske Madame Raske is very knowledgeable, and she reminds me of one of my favorite teachers back home. I hope she can teach me a few things as well." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku : "Mr. Rimau reminds me of quite a few of the elders back home, with the way he tells stories and jokes...but sometimes his version of humor doesn't go along with mine..." Claire Alexandria :"I don't really understand Claire, or rather why someone so nice and gentle looking would want to take up a sword, but she's very well trained with it and she must have her reasons. She seems rather...isloated, so I hope she manages to find someone to be close with. Perhaps I could be a friend to her?" Viggo Malmsteen: "I like music as much as the next person, and if all I had to listen to was Mr. Malmsteen's music, I think that would be fine. He puts a lot of himself into the music and it shows. I can admire such dedication...as it might be the only thing I can find at the moment to admire about the man." Rouen Fulgur: "Sir Fulgur is someone I can respect." Felan the Wolf: "He has a feel of being wiser than his age. He certainly understands nature much better than some of us ever will."</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor The ogre's broken language made it hard for Azzrix to understand, but he still managed thanks to great linguistic skills and he found the being to be intellectually boring. Azzrix gave a smile when Kat refered to him as 'my lord' it made him feel so powerful. "Have joyous day my lady" he said with a polite bow. He ordered himself another mug of mead and began to drink in the hopes feeling more joyous at the success of his thieving business. He heard the music that bard was playing and didn't find it too appealing, he would have preferred something more romantic and epic, and Azzrix was also getting a strange feeling from hearing the music, but he was still in good mood and walked over to the musician's pail and dropped in at least ten gold coins. Eventually Drubbin's broken English began to make more sense and Azzzrix was becoming tipsy. He noticed more people entering the bar and raised his mug to give an announcement. "Everyone! It is with great pleasure that I am sharing this celebration with you and hope that bright futures for all of us are to come! Now let us drink until either dream god conquers us or the death god takes us away!" he shouted and took another gulp of his mead and almost immediately afterwards he stumbled into a table knocking over a plate. He was able to right himself before he fell on the floor, but he had to use a chair as a brace to keep himself from falling over.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Yeah!" Drubbins shouted, more at someone making a proclamation than anything. It was good to show solidarity when you were the new boy. Despite being part of several huge victory feasts in the past, one of which had cleared an entire county of booze as raiding parties kept striking out farther and farther in an effort to acquire more, Drubbins had never discovered an amount of alcohol that would force a meeting with either of those gods. It was like there was something in the air, something that inspired blokes to bold action. If he was going to be getting drink from Da Boss than he would damn well do something to earn it. With a throaty grunt he lifted himself off the the floor, giving Azzrix two big, hearty pats as he lumbered past toward that job board that Da Boss had nodded at. He solemnly swept his eyes over it, taking in all the little papers and things. He couldn't make heads or tails of this, but he had never let that stop him before. He raised up a hand and pinched one at random between the nails of his fingers before pulling it off, then turned back around to scan the room. There would be a smart boy somewhere out there. Normally you could count on a magic boy to be very smart, but the only one who'd he'd seen do magic was that dog bloke. Drubbins had a pretty commanding view of the room with his height, but he couldn't see the dog bloke anymore. Then he looked for that blue bloke who'd pointed the boss out to him, but he wasn't in here either. He could ask Da Boss, but Da Boss seemed to expect you to be able to do this yourself and he didn't want to make a bad impression to a new Boss. He supposed he could go back and ask Azzrix, but he was a funny boy and might lie to him. That had happened to him before on a new Boss, just the expected new boy hazing. Then he spotted someone at a table in the far corner. Two blokes sharing a table, one of them wearing robes which nearly always meant he was a smart type. That wasn't the only reason, of course. There were plenty of blokes wearing robes in this tavern. No, this bloke looked like Malia Burg. His first boss. He was scared it might be Malia at first, before remembering that she and her whole tower had been blown to nothing with powerful magic. Wait, this person looked a lot like Malia so maybe they were also one of those she-blokes that Malia had told him she was. Drubbins decided that, just to be safe, he wouldn't mention the word bloke around them because that used to get Malia really steamed. He wandered up to the table with as much subtlety as his size allowed, which was none, and stood possibly too close behind Tahira to be entirely comfortable. "Scuse me." he asked tentatively, holding up the paper. "Whats dis say?"</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nodded along to Historia's response. She certainly wasn't wrong. Or at least it sounded like it, Claire had never heard of the Anemoi islands. She actually didn't know all too much about the rest of the world... After Historia it seemed to be Mysaren's turn to speak, choosing the next turn the conversation would take. As just stated, Claire didn't know that much about the world. She had no idea where they could sell precious items. Having nothing to say on the matter, she let her attention fall back out to the crowd. She eyed the ogre, the rat, the musician, the lizard. Plenty of people to see, probably from plenty of places. Claire felt small. "If you are going to go sell some things, may I...tag along?" She asked softly over to the other girl. She didn't look her way at first, but her gaze hovered over after a tiny bit. "I...am looking for something." She paused, choosing her words carefully. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but then it fell closed again. It seems the right words, were no words at all. As if to show that, she turned back to her her food and took another portion. She was easily the slowest eater of the three, her food was getting cold... "I'm from Akontosh." She added in between dainty mouthfuls. It was a large city, quite a ways away...Known for it's rich history in the arts, and for it's high rate of income. "I'm here...to look for something." She seemed amendment on letting out what 'something' was. She cut another portion of nearly charred steak. "I would appreciate it..." she commented, making reference once more to her request of accompanying the other.</s>	<\|message\|>Historia Saurvale "Ah! Don't be sorry for giving me advice Miss Mysaren!" Historia told her, quickly looking up at her with a worried expression. She hopped Miss Mysaren hadn't mistaken her annoyance at the musical spell for annoyance at her. "Advice is a wonderful thing. It teaches lessons and it shows concern. I can only thank you for giving me some." Historia told her, smiling a little as she pulled down her goggles over her eyes again. Historia kind of wondered what kind of life Miss Mysaren had lead up till now for her to tell her that... "Looking to sell some things huh..." Historia continued, not dwelling on those thoughts for long. "Hmmm...Well, I've gotten to know a few merchants a little in town by doing a few delivers for them. Perhaps I could introduce you to them if that might help?" Historia suggested. She paused when Miss Claire spoke up though, surprised that Miss Claire was willing to give the name of her place of origin. Historia would try to find some information about Akontosh later. She gave Miss Claire a smile, though Historia wasn't sure if Miss Claire saw that as she was keeping her eyes on her plate. Historia also wanted to ask what Miss Claire was looking for, because perhaps she could help, but with the advice they just gave her, and the fact that Miss Claire didn't say what it was, even though she had the chance to, it was clear that she didn't feel like talking about it. "Perhaps I could show the two of you around a little? At least the commerce areas, since they're the ones I'm most familiar with at the moment. I mean, I'm not an expert of this city yet, but it would certainly be nice to walk with others." Historia told them with a smile. She had started walking more since she left home. Mostly because the skies were lonely with so few races haveing the ability to fly around. Historia let out a small laugh, "Oh dear, I just realized that you two are probably going to tell me I shouldn't go walking around with strangers now huh?"</s>
<\|description\|>Margaret von Eisenberg Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 30 Occupation: Witch, mercenary Appearance: Source Margaret is a huge woman, as all people from the cold north are. She stands some 185 centimeters tall and weighs just shy of 75 kilograms. As one who lives as a mercenary, she keeps her body in pretty good shape. As all Nords, her complexion is unusually pale. Perhaps her most stunning features are her eyes and hair, both an unnatural red color. Her eyes seem to glow ever so slightly in the dark. She keeps the hair loose and shoulder length. There is a scar on the right side of her face, stretching almost from the corner of her mouth over to the cheek. She wears a thick fur coat that covers her back and sides, as she keeps the front unbuttoned on most occasions. Below the coat are sturdy, leather pants and a jacket littered with pockets and belts to carry her stuff. She wears armor, but it is all hidden under her clothing. Personality/Interests: Margaret is driven by two things: Greed for coin and lust for adventure. She is in her element when fleeing from angered guards after recovering a particularly valuable piece of art she will get paid handsomely for bringing back. She doesn't shy from people, especially if they order a round of ale for her or come seeking use or just being interested in her craft. The witch is a good companion to have around, ready to help with whatever is needed just as long as she gets something from it in the long run. She is calm even when angered, and will usually punish the culprit through carefully planned humiliation rather than punching a few teeth out. She has somewhat grey morality as any merc would, but unless your deal is really lucrative, she tries to say on the good side of the law. Her loyalty is not too firm though, as a better deal will always win, and if the deal ceases to be god during the mission, then the deal is off. Equipment: Margaret's armor is relatively light and scarce, only protecting her vital areas and parts of her body she can attack with, such as shins and knuckles. The armor is made out of lighter alloy than steel, and albeit it is not as durable, it allows her to move more easily. She carries a satchel around that contains materials and some equipment necessary for her witchcraft. The satchel has a booby trapped lock to prevent greedy hands from taking some of her possessions from under her nose. Weapons: While she makes a hefty use of magic, it is not suited to all tasks. As such, Margaret carries a hunting crossbow with gravity loaded cartridges of five bolts each. It is equipped with a scope and bayonet lock which can mount her shortsword for close range encounters. The crossbow can also shoot a grappling hook and a signal flare. The shortsword is barely above the dagger category as far as length of blade goes. The blade has a slit in the middle which acts as a capillary to hold poison or other substances. Finally she has a stiletto knife in her boot as a last resort. Powers: As a parting gift from her alchemy teacher, Margaret's eyes were enchanted to allow her to see a tiny bit into the infrared spectrum. It's not enough to give her proper night vision, but it makes spotting living beings more easy. Abilities: Humans are the jacks of all trades masters of none, and as such Margaret doesn't possess any special abilities. Talents: Growing up in the snowy, cold northern mountains, Margaret is resistant to the whims of weather. Despite wearing a fur coat all the time, she hardly ever feels hot, and yet can go on in a snowstorm if the wind speed is not high enough to make traveling by foot impossible. She has a great aim with her crossbow, being able to make a precision hit at 400 meters and safely hit the target at 600. When not using the scope, the distances are halved. While she is no weakling, she prefers a balance between offense and defense, and between strength and agility. Over the years of travelling, she built a decent stamina. Magic: Ah, her source of coin. Margaret is very skilled witch versed in many things, none of which an esteemed magician or even a necromancer would have anything to do with. While she can not weave grand spells of destruction or raise an army of unliving servants, she can beat a stronger opponent through trickery and cunning. Fortune telling: Margaret carries magical cards with her. Aside from being able to enforce her other tricks with them, she can use them for telling fortunes. Her predictions are accurate, but the cards are not always easy to read and there can be a mistake in the interpretation. Wards and charms: A very useful technique, the witch can construct wards that affect the area around them. the effect can vary, from blocking magic to shocking people around with electric bolts. She is not as skilled as a full alchemist and can only dream of building animated constructs. Charms are personalized, small wards that only affect the person holding them. Alchemy and potion making: A skill that makes quite the portion of her income, Margaret can mix various concoctions, from medicines to ales. Her salves are taking effect over time though, unlike holy items that work instantly, however they are more potent if there is time to apply them properly. Spellcasting: As a witch, Margaret will nto be raining fire and ice shards on armies, even though she can still pull off a good fireball if she needs to. Instead, her magic is more focused on hexes and curses, made to hinder her opponent rather than neutralize them. These range from simply causing the target to lose balance into turning an unsuspecting man into a sheep for limited time. She can also prepare her spells and bind them to gemstones which can be used later without the need to spend her own mana on creating the spell, only the tiny bit required for activating it. Trivia: * Voice: Tracy Scoggins * Theme: Youtube * Margaret has a huge appetite, and you will not satisfy her with vegetables and fruit either. * She enjoys betting games, having an easy time winning some extra coin due to her swindles and witchcraft. * The witch is a happy drunk. Sessamaru: "What a strange critter. Seems useful though! I wouldn't like to feed him though." Historia: "Save for the goofy appearance? A rather polite person who deserves politeness in kind." Saha: "can drink me under the table, has the strength to drag me home, likes music and dances… The ideal drinking buddy! No drunk kisses of venomous death though." Katelia: "Seems like a good company on the shadier jobs. Just watch out for your share." Julio: "A good chap to barter herbs and materials with. It seems like having him in the group would make traveling considerably more luxurious, let's try to stay on his good side." Azzrix: "A dying breed of a bad man. Definitely good company on shady jobs, as one doesn't have to really worry about betrayal. Just don't let him rifle your pockets." Naida: "Keep the ale coming!" Drubbins: "When in need of cheap muscle, that's the person to go to." Mysaren: "Dead meat is supposed to stay dead, makes her kinda creepy at times." Tahira: "I'd expect her kind to look down on my craft, but its not the case, so she's OK I guess." Rimau: "Old fart who'd love nothing more than to hog the easy jobs. then again, decent competition keeps one from getting sloppy." Claire: "Who?" Viggo: "Is that a male or a female? Kill it before it lays eggs!" Rouen: "The guy seems like he should have been born a hundred years ago when chivalry and honor were a thing. If it came to a fight, I could take him easily as long as I manage to stay out of range of that bloody massive sword." Felan: "He seems to have something against me, but what do I care what a farm boy thinks. I just stay out of his fur."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nodded along to Historia's response. She certainly wasn't wrong. Or at least it sounded like it, Claire had never heard of the Anemoi islands. She actually didn't know all too much about the rest of the world... After Historia it seemed to be Mysaren's turn to speak, choosing the next turn the conversation would take. As just stated, Claire didn't know that much about the world. She had no idea where they could sell precious items. Having nothing to say on the matter, she let her attention fall back out to the crowd. She eyed the ogre, the rat, the musician, the lizard. Plenty of people to see, probably from plenty of places. Claire felt small. "If you are going to go sell some things, may I...tag along?" She asked softly over to the other girl. She didn't look her way at first, but her gaze hovered over after a tiny bit. "I...am looking for something." She paused, choosing her words carefully. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but then it fell closed again. It seems the right words, were no words at all. As if to show that, she turned back to her her food and took another portion. She was easily the slowest eater of the three, her food was getting cold... "I'm from Akontosh." She added in between dainty mouthfuls. It was a large city, quite a ways away...Known for it's rich history in the arts, and for it's high rate of income. "I'm here...to look for something." She seemed amendment on letting out what 'something' was. She cut another portion of nearly charred steak. "I would appreciate it..." she commented, making reference once more to her request of accompanying the other.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale "Ah! Don't be sorry for giving me advice Miss Mysaren!" Historia told her, quickly looking up at her with a worried expression. She hopped Miss Mysaren hadn't mistaken her annoyance at the musical spell for annoyance at her. "Advice is a wonderful thing. It teaches lessons and it shows concern. I can only thank you for giving me some." Historia told her, smiling a little as she pulled down her goggles over her eyes again. Historia kind of wondered what kind of life Miss Mysaren had lead up till now for her to tell her that... "Looking to sell some things huh..." Historia continued, not dwelling on those thoughts for long. "Hmmm...Well, I've gotten to know a few merchants a little in town by doing a few delivers for them. Perhaps I could introduce you to them if that might help?" Historia suggested. She paused when Miss Claire spoke up though, surprised that Miss Claire was willing to give the name of her place of origin. Historia would try to find some information about Akontosh later. She gave Miss Claire a smile, though Historia wasn't sure if Miss Claire saw that as she was keeping her eyes on her plate. Historia also wanted to ask what Miss Claire was looking for, because perhaps she could help, but with the advice they just gave her, and the fact that Miss Claire didn't say what it was, even though she had the chance to, it was clear that she didn't feel like talking about it. "Perhaps I could show the two of you around a little? At least the commerce areas, since they're the ones I'm most familiar with at the moment. I mean, I'm not an expert of this city yet, but it would certainly be nice to walk with others." Historia told them with a smile. She had started walking more since she left home. Mostly because the skies were lonely with so few races haveing the ability to fly around. Historia let out a small laugh, "Oh dear, I just realized that you two are probably going to tell me I shouldn't go walking around with strangers now huh?"</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Marcoon Blue Moon Tavern Sess grabs her by her arm and yanks her out the door, heading toward the man that she had seen out the window earlier. She hears him yell to Bernard before they rush out the door. He is grabbing her wrist, to which Naida flushes. Normally Sess has a tendency not to touch people. Honestly, this was the first time that she had ever seen him do it. He drags her outside and stops in front of the man and... Kat. Naida frowns when she remembers that the she-demon was actually talking to the knight. Sess bows and introduces himself to the knight man before introducing her. Putting aside her feelings of slight rage and loathing toward Kat, she smiles at the knight. "Anything anyone needs at the bar, they come to me," Naida says with a big smile on her face. "So where you from, knight-boy? I haven't seen you around these parts before." Since Kat is here, Naida has lost a lot of her happy energy that she used to have in the bar. Now, her silvery wings flutter nervously, going faster than her mouth had been in the bar. She grips Sess's wrist, anchoring herself to the ground through him. She knew that if she let go, she would probably wind up hovering a few yards off the ground and she did not need that right now. She tries not to grip onto his arm too hard, but she can't help that her fingernails dig into his skin slightly.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Viggo would have ignored his chastisement from Naida, continuing on with the song until its due finish. As Viggo hits the last strum of his strings, he raises his head, sweating and thoroughly worked from his playing. With his guitar still resting at his hip he notes the additional coins in his pail, grinning happily as he grabs a small cloth and wipes beads of perspiration from his brow. Walking back to the bar he takes a bottle of beer out of his "other bucket", promptly uncapping it and drinking the contents. Now a little more than tipsy, he shoots a cursory glare at Naida, moving to give her a piece of his mind on the use of magic in his playing, though before he can take a first step she's led outside by Sess. He blows a strand of hair from his face, and loops it behind his ear, sighing in exasperation. Viggo places his fingers on the neck of his guitar, absently tapping notes without making much noise. He soon begins to walk around while practising quietly, scanning the crowd for anyone he might be able to serenade a few coins out of.</s>	<\|message\|>Margaret von Eisenberg Margaret was about to say something when the charm lit up again as the hair-for-brains decided it was a good time to terrorize her hungover hearing. She felt the charm actually heat up - It might be a permanent enchantment, but the trade was that it could only absorb and neutralize limited amount of magic in the given time. Just like her liver and alcohol. "Would somebody drag this circus reject out of here? My ears are going to bleed! I swear every time this individuum makes an appearance I lose a bit of my will to live!" she shout-whispered her complaint. Her anger vented somewhat, she turned back to the mage who inquired of her skill. "Oh, quite a few years. Under various masters and from various sources. I suppose that's the defining quality of witchcraft - learning on your own and largely by doing." she shrugged at Tahira's question. "It is more reliant on resources than the magic itself, which can make it rather costly at times though." She really hoped some well paying jobs would pop up soon. Speaking of which, the ogre approached their table. Apparently it... he... didn't know the written word. "That's the menu." she answered for the other whens he got a glimpse of the paper he was holding.</s>
<\|description\|>Margaret von Eisenberg Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 30 Occupation: Witch, mercenary Appearance: Source Margaret is a huge woman, as all people from the cold north are. She stands some 185 centimeters tall and weighs just shy of 75 kilograms. As one who lives as a mercenary, she keeps her body in pretty good shape. As all Nords, her complexion is unusually pale. Perhaps her most stunning features are her eyes and hair, both an unnatural red color. Her eyes seem to glow ever so slightly in the dark. She keeps the hair loose and shoulder length. There is a scar on the right side of her face, stretching almost from the corner of her mouth over to the cheek. She wears a thick fur coat that covers her back and sides, as she keeps the front unbuttoned on most occasions. Below the coat are sturdy, leather pants and a jacket littered with pockets and belts to carry her stuff. She wears armor, but it is all hidden under her clothing. Personality/Interests: Margaret is driven by two things: Greed for coin and lust for adventure. She is in her element when fleeing from angered guards after recovering a particularly valuable piece of art she will get paid handsomely for bringing back. She doesn't shy from people, especially if they order a round of ale for her or come seeking use or just being interested in her craft. The witch is a good companion to have around, ready to help with whatever is needed just as long as she gets something from it in the long run. She is calm even when angered, and will usually punish the culprit through carefully planned humiliation rather than punching a few teeth out. She has somewhat grey morality as any merc would, but unless your deal is really lucrative, she tries to say on the good side of the law. Her loyalty is not too firm though, as a better deal will always win, and if the deal ceases to be god during the mission, then the deal is off. Equipment: Margaret's armor is relatively light and scarce, only protecting her vital areas and parts of her body she can attack with, such as shins and knuckles. The armor is made out of lighter alloy than steel, and albeit it is not as durable, it allows her to move more easily. She carries a satchel around that contains materials and some equipment necessary for her witchcraft. The satchel has a booby trapped lock to prevent greedy hands from taking some of her possessions from under her nose. Weapons: While she makes a hefty use of magic, it is not suited to all tasks. As such, Margaret carries a hunting crossbow with gravity loaded cartridges of five bolts each. It is equipped with a scope and bayonet lock which can mount her shortsword for close range encounters. The crossbow can also shoot a grappling hook and a signal flare. The shortsword is barely above the dagger category as far as length of blade goes. The blade has a slit in the middle which acts as a capillary to hold poison or other substances. Finally she has a stiletto knife in her boot as a last resort. Powers: As a parting gift from her alchemy teacher, Margaret's eyes were enchanted to allow her to see a tiny bit into the infrared spectrum. It's not enough to give her proper night vision, but it makes spotting living beings more easy. Abilities: Humans are the jacks of all trades masters of none, and as such Margaret doesn't possess any special abilities. Talents: Growing up in the snowy, cold northern mountains, Margaret is resistant to the whims of weather. Despite wearing a fur coat all the time, she hardly ever feels hot, and yet can go on in a snowstorm if the wind speed is not high enough to make traveling by foot impossible. She has a great aim with her crossbow, being able to make a precision hit at 400 meters and safely hit the target at 600. When not using the scope, the distances are halved. While she is no weakling, she prefers a balance between offense and defense, and between strength and agility. Over the years of travelling, she built a decent stamina. Magic: Ah, her source of coin. Margaret is very skilled witch versed in many things, none of which an esteemed magician or even a necromancer would have anything to do with. While she can not weave grand spells of destruction or raise an army of unliving servants, she can beat a stronger opponent through trickery and cunning. Fortune telling: Margaret carries magical cards with her. Aside from being able to enforce her other tricks with them, she can use them for telling fortunes. Her predictions are accurate, but the cards are not always easy to read and there can be a mistake in the interpretation. Wards and charms: A very useful technique, the witch can construct wards that affect the area around them. the effect can vary, from blocking magic to shocking people around with electric bolts. She is not as skilled as a full alchemist and can only dream of building animated constructs. Charms are personalized, small wards that only affect the person holding them. Alchemy and potion making: A skill that makes quite the portion of her income, Margaret can mix various concoctions, from medicines to ales. Her salves are taking effect over time though, unlike holy items that work instantly, however they are more potent if there is time to apply them properly. Spellcasting: As a witch, Margaret will nto be raining fire and ice shards on armies, even though she can still pull off a good fireball if she needs to. Instead, her magic is more focused on hexes and curses, made to hinder her opponent rather than neutralize them. These range from simply causing the target to lose balance into turning an unsuspecting man into a sheep for limited time. She can also prepare her spells and bind them to gemstones which can be used later without the need to spend her own mana on creating the spell, only the tiny bit required for activating it. Trivia: * Voice: Tracy Scoggins * Theme: Youtube * Margaret has a huge appetite, and you will not satisfy her with vegetables and fruit either. * She enjoys betting games, having an easy time winning some extra coin due to her swindles and witchcraft. * The witch is a happy drunk. Sessamaru: "What a strange critter. Seems useful though! I wouldn't like to feed him though." Historia: "Save for the goofy appearance? A rather polite person who deserves politeness in kind." Saha: "can drink me under the table, has the strength to drag me home, likes music and dances… The ideal drinking buddy! No drunk kisses of venomous death though." Katelia: "Seems like a good company on the shadier jobs. Just watch out for your share." Julio: "A good chap to barter herbs and materials with. It seems like having him in the group would make traveling considerably more luxurious, let's try to stay on his good side." Azzrix: "A dying breed of a bad man. Definitely good company on shady jobs, as one doesn't have to really worry about betrayal. Just don't let him rifle your pockets." Naida: "Keep the ale coming!" Drubbins: "When in need of cheap muscle, that's the person to go to." Mysaren: "Dead meat is supposed to stay dead, makes her kinda creepy at times." Tahira: "I'd expect her kind to look down on my craft, but its not the case, so she's OK I guess." Rimau: "Old fart who'd love nothing more than to hog the easy jobs. then again, decent competition keeps one from getting sloppy." Claire: "Who?" Viggo: "Is that a male or a female? Kill it before it lays eggs!" Rouen: "The guy seems like he should have been born a hundred years ago when chivalry and honor were a thing. If it came to a fight, I could take him easily as long as I manage to stay out of range of that bloody massive sword." Felan: "He seems to have something against me, but what do I care what a farm boy thinks. I just stay out of his fur."</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) "Tch." Damn right the brat should keep to herself. Now Kat was just a bundle of aggravation and nerves with no way to relieve it all. Suddenly, she grabbed a knife from her belt, and her arm shot forward, knife flying through the air. The blade embedded itself several inches deep into the adjacent tavern wall. She doubted Bernard would be pleased, but she was too caught up in her own emotions to care at the moment. Besides, Bernie was never pleased – not that Kat could tell, at least. Hel started a bit when Kat took out her aggravations on the wall, and looked back at her. With no more threats to deal with, he turned his full attention back to her, nudging her leg with a paw and resting his large head on her lap, making small noises in the back of his throat. Kat ran a hand over her face and heaved a sigh. "Yeah, I know," she said in a low voice. This was ridiculous. She shouldn't have been this worked up. She gave him a pat on the head and then pulled a small copper coin out of her pocket. Still buzzing with energy, she balanced the coin on the back of her first finger and began turning it over from one finger to the next, back and forth.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen frowned as the inn-keep Naida attempted to help the two men. He watched the older man step on his other foot with his injured foot and hop around. "Well with old age comes clumsiness," he thought. The fox-eared man grumbled his way up towards the stool. "Fooooooood..." he moaned. "Well, it doesn't look like they need help. This really has to be one of the strangest inns I have ever been in, I wonder wh-," he thought and a glance around made him realize something. The winged girl, the fox ears, the white hair, the one-handed village-girl with the cat that was more predator than pet. Now he realized that there was a bipedal lizard and a furry-blue humanoid. "Ugh, a fay tavern," he thought and a light look of disgust grew on his face. "Well, it isn't like I have a choice I better get used to this," he thought. He took a seat in one of the empty bar stools. "May I have some stew as well?" he asked Naida.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern Naida rolls her eyes as Sessamaru begins to beg for food. And, to make it even better, the knight guy now asks for food. She sighs and hurries back to the kitchen, calling for two Potato Nut stews. She sweeps into the back kitchen, her wings fluttering, as she helps prepare the meals, but before she can do much, the cook kicks her back out to go make drinks. The water sprite growls at him, mad that she can't help, but she complies and walks back out to the bar. Naida grabs Rouen's untouched Fey Buster drink and sets it in front of him. "Here you go, mate," she says. She is about to walk away to get Sess a drink when she pauses and turns back around. She looks at him carefully and says, "Drink that slowly, mate. Don't want to see you running naked down the street because you drank something too fast." She smirks and proceeds to pour Sessamaru's favorite drink. She slides it down the bar and it stops directly in front of him. The cook then rings for her with the soups and she flits over to the kitchen, now hovering a couple feet off the ground. She takes the plates in her hands and flutters back over to them, setting the stew down in front of them. She grabs some salt and sprinkles it over the top of them, smiling at Rouen and Sessamaru. She turns to Sess and says, "Here, eat up. Want to keep your strength up before that old bag comes back and beats the life out of ya." She smiles at Rouen before she hears that Rimau is addressing her. She turns to look at him and smiles. "Oh, hey, Rimau! This is just a new customer," she says with a big smile. "I didn't see you walk down, my scaly friend. I'll get you that juice right away." She quickly grabs the couple drinks from under the bar and mixes them together, adding a very small pinch of fairy dust to it so Rimau could wake up a little more. She passes the juice down the bar, sliding it toward the scaly man and says, "There you go, bud! Don't drink it too fast." She grins at him before turning back to Sess and Rouen.</s>	<\|message\|>Margaret von Eisenberg "It was a song? Oh! Pardon me. I must have mistaken it for a vocal lacking, random, screeching noise. Oh, and let's not even mention the fact that I do not take kindly to someone trying to cast a spell on me." The witch replied to the 'musician'. It was cute how the scrawny guy was trying to sound threatening while she could probably shove him into a beer glass. "If you have a problem with that, I will gladly talk to you about it outside." she said with a mocking smirk. Everyone who frequented the tavern knew that some magic prevented any serious fighting to take place within. Dismissing Viggo with a shooing wave of the hand, she turned her attention to the ogre at their table. She couldn't shake the amusing thought that the IQ of the next conversation might actually be higher than the one she just finished. "Looks like somebody has a sweet tooth." she commented. an idea struck her, and she patted her pocket. It would be a high risk investment and might not pay off quickly, but... She has seen some of the tougher jobs on the board and the witch would be lying if she said she felt confident she could take them on alone. It might be worth her while to make some friends, and a sorceress and an ogre seemed like a good mix with her primarily using a sword. As long as they didn't wield a guitar. Her own growing hunger making the decision easier, she snapped her fingers. "Oi, miss Marcoon! would the chef be so kind and sent three servings of pancakes our way? On me." she said, looking up the ogre. Or ten. Look at the size of him! "Do I get a discount on large purchase?" she tried with innocent smile. Old habits died hard.</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren Location: Blue Moon Tavern Mysaren locked the gate of the graveyard behind her, her shovel in her right hand. The smell of wet dirt and corpses always made Mysaren feel at home, and she knew that the smell clung to her and her clothes right now. Her bag was filled with jewelry and clothes, and as soon as she cleaned herself up a bit, she would sell it all for a pretty buck. She figured out early on that selling expensive jewelry smelling like a graveyard was a bit too suspicious for most folk. Now she just needed a place to stay. She still had a bit of money in her pockets, enough for a cheap room in some inn somewhere. A drink sounded nice too, and she did some quick math in her head. Yeah, she could afford some cheap ale. She had heard there was a tavern in the town anyways, a place called Blue Moon. If it were up to her, though, she'd never set foot near a tavern. Taverns were always filled with death, some poor bastard drinking himself under or a bar fight always about to start. The constant screaming in the back of her mind always made it hard to sleep, and always kept her on edge. But, she had no choice in the matter. She had lost her bed roll a few towns back, and she was forced to rely on inns so she at least had a roof over her head. After slipping her shovel into a ring on her belt to hide it under her robes, she wrapped the plum-colored robes tightly around her and made her way to The Blue Moon Tavern. As soon as she stepped in, something seemed off. For one, there was total silence in her mind. No awful muttering and screaming, no whispers, nothing. Not a sound that implied that anyone was going to die today. Mysaren's brow furrowed and her eyes scanned the scene in front of her, her tongue running over her teeth in a nervous manner. This was bizarre, and as much as she liked the silence, it was too weird for her. She rolled her eyes at herself though. She probably looked like an idiot standing here like this. Nothing was the matter. The place seemed well organized for an inn, clean and all of the people, while a bit tipsy, weren't loud or too obnoxious. She could get used to this. She decided to get a drink before she asked for the room, staking the place out a bit. She made her way to one of the tables in the corner and sat, her dark blue eyes watching everyone like a hawk. Someone entered right after her, a girl who looked like she just got in a fight with a bear, her clothes tattered and worn. She stifled a laugh and leaned back in the chair, digging into her messenger bag for her money.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia had been going to the Blue Moon now for about a week, ever since she arrived in Belhiem. It had been by chance that she had stumbled in there, ready to spend her last of her money on a decent meal, only to discover someone had taken her money. Some kindly patron though had been willing to pay for her meal though, leaving Historia grateful and in their debt. Paying the patron back after she got the money to do so was one of the main reasons Historia kept coming back to the Blue Moon (though she quickly found other reasons). Unfortunately, not only did she not get the patron's name, but they didn't appear to be a regular as Historia hadn't seen them since that day. One day, maybe soon, maybe not, she would find them again and pay them back. For now she was sticking close to the tavern since it was a nice place and she could find plenty of job opportunities there. Like the one she took this morning.... A kindly old lady had asked her to get her cat out of a tree. Simple enough to be sure, but that didn't mean it was easy. That cat really didn't like Historia. By the end of it, Historia was covered in scratches and bite marks, but she had gotten the cat to its owner and that was all that mattered (that and the pay had been pretty good, all things considered...). With that, it was time to once again go eat at the Blue Moon. Historia was used to the small glances that the patrons of the tavern gave to people as they walked in by now. The first time it happened she thought she had made some mistake and froze until everyone stopped looking at her. Historia walked past the people with their small glances and went over to the bar. She started to look around for Miss Naida, but couldn't find her...Perhaps she wasn't there yet? Well, she didn't want to disturb Mr. Bernard...though she wasn't sure if could really bother him. For the week that she had been there, Mr. Bernard never had really changed expressions...But still Historia would wait. Maybe she could use this time to get to know some of the other patrons. So Historia looked around the Tavern, hoping perhaps to see the kind patron that had paid for her meal. Needless to say, she didn't see them. What she did see though was two people that interested her. The first was a woman just a few seats away from her. She looked...like she had seen better days. The other person, also a woman sitting in one of the corner tables, who as far as Historia knew, was new here. Historia both decided they looked like they could use so company. So she got up and went over to the woman at the far table first. "Hello, my name is Historia. I was wondering if you'd like to sit at the bar with me." She told the woman with a smile. After the woman replied Historia went back over to the bar and sat near the other woman. "Hello, I do hope you don't mind if I sit next to you. My name is Historia. It's a pleasure to meet you." Historia greeted her, smiling again.</s> <\|message\|>Margaret von Eisenberg The Inn was still waking up and the day was beginning when a moaning heap shifted at a table far in the corner. Margaret felt like she had two heads, her normal one and one on the inside of it, much bigger and pushing out on her own head in all directions. The ale she could down with ease, but the liquors at the Inn she could have sworn were made out of divine tears. Blinking her eyes as the morning light mercilessly assaulted them and sent a few more stabbing sensations through her skull, the witch winces as she raised her face from the table she passed out at last night. It would appear the drinking got out of hand again. Well, she did always believe the body shouldn't go to the grave unused. Patting her side to check her satchel was still there and intact, she ran a hand through her red mane and looked around. The people were still sparse, much like any serious work opportunity lately. It was what lead her to this place. She heard from a few other mercs one could live here in return for service alone, which was exactly what she needed for now. Her wares sold here as well, many adventurers in need of a good healing salve or a magic dissolving charm coming through. However there was no thrill in it. She didn't come here to turn into a merchant. But luck was not on her side so she had to find the cure for the boredom on the bottom of the glass. Even the quick glance over to the mission board confirmed her suspicion. It even got taken down for the frame to be repaired! Margaret was itching to get out and bash some heads - right after soaking her own in a barrel of cold water - but the Gods just didn't want her out there. Even her cards agreed. Last night she drawn them for herself, and ended up with 'The Fool', 'The Magician', and 'Temperance'. Much to her dismay, over the time she noticed the combination of the fool and the magician usually indicated her self. And in this particular interpretation, she took Temperance for Boredom. Things were looking grim.</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Katelia trudged towards the tavern beside Hel, her massive companion. The two had spent the night hunting, and now had a great boar draped over the snow leopard's back to show for their efforts. The flaming sky, painted in the sunrise, mirrored the blood still dripping from the fresh kill, staining Hel's coat and the ground beneath them. Really, the boar was the only reason Kat wasn't having Hel carry her now. She had no interest sitting behind that stinking beast. While the two companions made for an odd scene – a small girl with a missing arm, midnight skin, and snowy eyes and hair, and her huge, menacing snow leopard carrying a still-warm carcass – the townspeople they passed had long since grown accustomed to them. This was a trek the two made once every few days for the past year and a half, and though they still garnered some stares and whispers, people had accepted them as just a couple more characters that colored their world. "Hey Bernie," Kat called as she pushed the back entrance to the tavern open, "got your new supply." She wasn't actually sure if the old proprietor liked it when she called him that. Kat had started using the nickname in the hopes that he wouldn't. Testing your landlord/employer probably wasn't the wisest move, but Kat just couldn't figure the old codger out. Really, what the heck was his deal? Hel shrugged the boar off of his shoulders in the backroom and it landed with a great whump, blood no doubt staining the floor. This, too, Kat had him do intentionally. Most would yell or scold at their floor being seeped with blood, but this guy… Kat just shrugged her shoulders, once again deciding to leave the mystery of the Blue Moon Tavern proprietor for another day. Glancing around, she saw that the sprite waitress wasn't anywhere to be found yet. She was right annoying, but at least Kat knew what to make of her. Plus, she was fun to ruffle. Kat turned to the kitchen sink and began the process of rinsing off her hand and splashing water on her face. After that she grabbed an old rag to wipe down Hel (who always tried to swat her away whenever she did this). Finally rid of the blood, she grabbed an apple out of a barrel and turned to leave the kitchen to go to the front of the tavern. "Later, Bernie," she called behind her, Hel following her with his heavy footfalls. The two made their way to a table against a wall. Kat dropped herself into a chair, swinging her feet up on top of the table and leaning back in a move that could only be called 'unconcerned.' Hel settled himself at her side, resting his massive head on his paws, and the two watched as the tavern began to fill up for the day, Kat slowly eating her apple.</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Bernard] The barkeep watched Naida enter the bar in a hurry, eying her with barely any expression. Though, if one was to look closely, he was mildly annoyed by her tardiness but kept it to himself, buried deep into his being. Her peck on his cheek warmed him, but he pretended not to notice and simply watched as the Water Sprite did her duties. So long as she was doing her job, he had no reason to complain or give her the stink eye. Bernard went back to watching the rest of the tavern, acting as sentinel once more. [Sessamaru] Saw the glowing light of hope and peace deep within his mindscape, viewing his own center of peace. It warmed him. It warmed those around him. He reached out with his hand towards that light, to grasp it and all of its secrets. He drew closer and closer to it, growing warmer and hopeful. He was so close, so very close now. If only he could-- Hiya, Sess! "Ack!" Sessamaru cried, falling to the floor with a thump! as a wave of potent magical energy flying everywhere throughout the tavern, lashing the candles and making their flames roar higher and brighter, the chandeliers falling and the crystals shattering long before they hit the wooden floor. Even before the descent, the animals all around him fled in a panic, instinctively knowing of the danger. Sess appeared dazed and confused, his eyes following invisible birds that seemed to swirl around his head. "H-hello, M-miss Na-Naida," Sessamaru managed to utter, his melodic voice switching octaves due to the ear-shattering salutations he received and the bump to his head. He lay there, trying to catch hold of the world again before it fled. I think she's trying to kill me, he thought, chuckling nervously both inwardly and outwardly. "H-how may I h-help you?" Sess asked. [Bernard] Bernard groaned as the expulsion of magic single-handedly destroyed the best chandeliers he own and the candles fully melted, no longer a wick in them. With a ring of his golden bell, several strong man wandered into the room, all of them wealthy contractors. Bernard gestured to them the small level of destruction to the bar and they immediately understood, leaving post haste. He leaned against the wall, slamming his palm into his face, slowly sliding it down. After recollecting himself, he rang the silver bell. "Drink. Meals. Everyone. Ratman." He told the chef as he reappeared, also carrying a tray of food to Claire. With a nod, and setting the food before the girl, he ran back into the kitchen and prepared food for the dish. Though he didn't have to, Bernard made his bell-chimes a symbol of his authority; perhaps the ogre was smart enough to know this.</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire allowed herself to remain a viewer, an outside party who is not involved, yet can look in. She watched as a lovely blue streak came in and began working. She was clearly in her element. She watched as she neared the party of three, regarded the two others, and went back to being a blur. Soon after a jingling sound and a loud voice drew her viewers eyes away. A free meal, how lovely. Claire bent over and drew her gold pouch from her travel bag. Untying the small knot she had previously made, she saw that she had very little coin left. She probably wouldn't have been able to stay the night. even if the man didn't pay for her meal. She sighed. "Is this all a common occurrence?" Claire asked over to Historia. She seemed to be the most experienced one of the bunch. Hysteria was reading her weapon...A bit jumpy perhaps. A lumbering figure found it's way into the scene. Another player in the blurring fantastic play she found herself in. They bellowed about the boss, and finding some place to be. Interesting, blur, free meal, boss, jumpy...Poor, hungry. A wave of energy ruptured past her. Her heart clenched. She shuddered. Something shattered. Claire sucked in air. She didn't know she had stopped. "I hope it's not.." she commented more to no one then to Historia. As if to console her, a plate of food appeared in front of her. She looked up to see the stoic face of Bernard. She nodded thankfully in return, but of course if he saw it, it was a mystery. She look to her conversation partners. Perhaps she should wait for them to be served too...</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern "Oooh, Sess, I'm really sorry!" Naida exclaims, reaching out to help him up. "I was just trying to have a little fun!" She smiles at him. "I haven't seen you in forever... Well, forever in being yesterday, but still..." Suddenly, the door bursts open and a man runs through yelling for drinks and how he is buying everyone in the bar a drink. Naida rolls her eyes and smiles at Sess. "I'm probably going to have to take care of that in a minute. Can you believe some of these thieves, man? I mean, I know that's Azzrix, but still, you don't need to barge into every place and flaunt your money." She rolls her eyes again and laughs, the light bell sound echoing through the tavern. Every time she talks, people can rarely understand her because she talks so speedily and she changes topics so fast that people often times do not follow her. "I really am sorry that I scared you, Sess," she states. "I'll make it up to you. I'll make you your favorite dish on the house. I'll even cook it myself if that helps at all." She grins at him, hoping that he'll accept her apology food... thing. Right then, the ogre bursts through the door and she sighs. He begins demanding to know where the boss is. "Give me a minute." She flits over to Bernard with a blur and a sprinkle of glitter across the floor and apologizes. "Sorry about the damage to the bar. You can take it out of my paycheck for this month. I'll take care of the big guy if it's any consolation." Before he can answer yet again, she flits up to the ogre and she notices that she is not as tall as this humongous being is. In fact, she is down right puny in his presence. She smiles at Drubbins, fluttering directly in front of his face, and says, "Hello, sir! I am Naida Marcoon, part time bartender." She grabs his hand and shakes it rapidly, glitter and fairy dust from her wings and arms and legs falling to the ground. She then sets his hand back down by his side with another wide grin. Her hand began to coat with ice, a reflexive magic move that was defensive, just in case someone got out of hand in the bar. "May I ask who is asking for our boss? Actually, a better question would be what are you asking for? I mean, normally people just ask for the boss's name so that they can do business with him. Oh! Is that why you're here? Bernard has a lot of people who does business with him..." Naida's excitement gets ahead of her and she begins to randomly jump from tangent to tangent, probably confusing the poor fellow to no end with how rapidly she's talking and how quickly she changes subjects. A couple minutes later she realizes what she's doing. "I am so sorry sir. Faeries are known for having short attention spans though. Anyways, who is asking for our boss?" Right then, Bernard rings his bell and Naida looks back over at him. "Oh! There he is right there. You can go seem him if you would like. I take it by the bell ringing that he would like to talk to you as well. Not a very talkative fellow, but he's a good boss" She flits away back to Sessamaru and says, "Now, what were we talking about?"</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) It wasn't long before Kat saw the blue sparkles that signaled the sprite had made her appearance. She considered flagging her down and ordering food if only to annoy Naida, but decided against it. Kat was bored, but not that bored. Besides, that imp would probably just spit in her food anyway. Kat raised an eyebrow when a walking, talking rat sauntered into the tavern, ordering a round for everyone present. Exchanging a glance with Hel (Is this guy for real?) she shrugged. If he was paying, she wasn't gonna turn down a meal. Not that the tavern actually ever made you pay. It was the principle of the thing. She motioned to a waitress skittering back and forth through the tables and ordered a drink and a healthy plate of food. She almost spat out said drink when an ogre of all things busted through the tavern door. Some dark newcomer to the tavern was already on her feet, blade drawn. Well, she's a twitchy thing. This would be entertaining sure, but Kat wasn't really in the mood to watch someone get slaughtered. "Hey," she called out, still leaning casually at her table, "big guy." She gave a short whistle and raised her arm above her head, beconning the ogre towards her with two fingers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hel looking up at her, decidedly unimpressed. She winked back at him and he just rolled his eyes with a huff. Still, his tail flicked back and forth across the tavern floor, the only sign that he tensed in case any trouble came from Kat's… socialization. "You looking for the boss?" she asked him. Gesturing with her chin at Azzrix, she continued, "That's him over there. They call him Sir Rat, the Inexterminable. He likes it when you bow and kiss his hand."</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins It was a strange feeling that the blue bloke had left Drubbins with. It wasn't very common that something as big as him experienced what it was like to be run down by a donkey cart, but this was a close approximation. Still, he'd told him who Da Boss was and Drubbins attention was drawn further by the pointed ringing of a bell. Good Gods, how had he not known? He should have sensed this bloke before he even came in the door, which he remembered and reached back to shut out of due respect. Da Boss typically liked the doors to his lair closed. It was then that he heard someone call for him. Not by name, but in general whenever someone called out "big guy" they were talking to him. He looked over to some dark bloke who looked like he'd been krumped but good, who pointed out the rat bloke as Da Boss. But Drubbins had been through this before. This was typical new guy hazing, and he wasn't going to fall for it "Nah." He called over to the one armed bloke. "Dat guy ain't Da Boss. He's all little an stuff, and all nobby. Not Boss at all." He said, pointing at the rat bloke. "It ain't even dat dog bloke what did da big magic just now." He called over. This was some more smart thinkin'. He was two for two today, and on a role. "Dats a trick." He said, thundering steps bringing him before the bar. He slides the bar stools aside so he can sit, eye level, with Bernard. You only has to look at him to know. The strong build, the air of stoic command, the way his subordinates obeyed with such speed and with so little prompting. "Da only Boss, da only bloke you can call Boss in da room," he said, raising one long arm to point a finger at Bernard. "Is dis bloke right here!" He smiled, having actually passed the test. "Dats right, ain't it Boss? I'm your boy from now on!"</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Sess slowly regained his senses and heard Naida continuously apologize, but he simply looked back up at her and smiled. It was a nervous smile, his hand scratching the back of his head. "It's alright, really!" He pleaded, his face blushing due to the attention. "You don't have to worry about me, Miss Naida, honest." Naida swiftly left him to take care of things for a brief moment, such as speaking to the ogre at the doorway. He chuckled, his glowing emerald eyes darting to the creature calling him a "dog bloke." Unsure what the ogre was meaning by it, Sess simply let it go, unconcerned if it was a challenge or not. His first concern was Naida, who's return alleviated his spirits. "We weren't talking about anything, Miss Naida." Sessamaru replied kindly, bowing his head. He slowly rose to his feet and noticed that Tahira was in the bar, as well. The half-breed turned to stare at Naida. "Is there anything I may help you with, Miss Naida?" He asked politely. Perhaps shirking his training for a few hours wouldn't be a bad idea; after all, he was kind of hungry after the expulsion of his own magical energy. [Bernard] Bernard kept his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, waiting for everything to be repaired and replaced. When Naida approached him, he simply shrugged at her proposition. After all, accidents happen... unfortunately, they were very expensive accidents. Nevertheless, he cataloged the problem in the depths of his thoughts and continued to watch the events unfold in the tavern. There, coming towards him, was an ogre. Bernard eyed him as he had everyone else who entered, just peering into the depths of his soul. A subtle nod of his head and he approached the ogre, producing a pint of ale. He pointed to the Mission Board and muttered. "Boss." Without another word, he went back to his wall and continued overlooking the tavern, ensuring nothing went out of hand. [Rupert] Rupert felt the flux of magical energy and leaped from his seat. "Dagnabbit, Fox Boy McGee!" Rupert crowed, agitated. "If I had a pence for every time a whippersnapper like you went willy-nilly and gung-ho with magic, I'd be a filthy rich wizard with a harem of succubi!" The old wizard went on and rambled about "kids these days" and "back in my day." The flustered wizard knocked on the bar three times, which Bernard retrieved for him a rather expensive bottle of "Regulus Blue," a potent mead made with the finest honey and the richest of magic, combined with very powerful alchemical ingredients. A wizard's drink. Rupert's drink. The old codger downed the bottle in one go, ordering another with three knocks, this time taking his time. "Damned kids and their magic yeehaws, and hormonal yahoos."</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix heard several people give a cheer when he said that he would buy free drinks for everyone and he smiled. This made his ego rise a bit and he felt like the center of the tavern right now. Once he got his large mug of mead Azzrix heard Kat mention him and like the messenger god he went over to her with another mug of mead to share. "Did I hear my name uttered? Hello, your name is Katelia isn't it? I would assume that you know who I am by how you just spoke my name, but do you really know who I am?" asked her as he held out the extra mug for her to take it. He then noticed the ogre and whistled a bit at the sight of such a being. "You're a big one, hello my large friend. My name is Azzrix Grimmor, I am a glorious noble by day and a mysterious phantom by night. I stand before you as friend and speak the truth that friendship with a member of the noble Grimmor family is worth more than ten mountains of gold. My deeds though in shadows are above all in skill outside of my family and you will not find one as talented as I in any land. If it is a boss you're looking for then I am the one" Azzrix said to the ogre with a grin.</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat pouted a little when her attempt at entertaining herself fell flat. Hel just huffed and flicked her in the face with his tail. Leave it to Naida to spoil her fun. Guess the big lug's not as dumb as he looks, she thought to herself. Still pretty dumb, she amended at seeing him practically throw himself at Bernard's feet. Old Rupert was kicking up a fuss over magic again (something to do with Sess and Naida, of course) but that's not what took Kat by surprise. No, instead it was the fact that in front of her stood the very rat she'd attempted to make mischief on, noble and proud like a champion home from war and holding a drink out to her. Kat just exchanged a look with Hel, eyebrow raised. The snow leopard's ears twitched in a sign of amusement. This is what you get. Turning back to Azzrix, Kat opened her mouth to say the first thing that popped into her mind (Your name is actually Sir Rat, the Inexterminable?) when Hel lifted his head and dropped its significant weight onto her lap, pinning her down to the seat. To anyone else it would just look like an act of affection from a lazy cat, but she knew the warning for what it was: Don't start any shit. So instead, Kat shut her mouth into a closed-lip smile and tilted her head in a mock display of friendliness. Though Hel was preoccupied making sure his charge didn't do anything idiotic, he still watched the newcomer with his silver eyes, always wary. "Already got myself a drink on your behalf," she said, holding up her tankard. "Thanks." Gods above and below, this guy was for real, wasn't he? The corners of her mouth twitched up at the way he oh so gallantly introduced himself, calling himself the 'boss' to the ogre who'd just rebuffed him. Maybe there was still fun to be had.</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku The old Zizz soon descended the stairs and entered the main room of the tavern, scanning his head from left to right. It was considerably busier than usual this morning, he noticed. Lots of strange folk hanging around, too. There was some fancy-pants Rodent hanging about; could've sworn he's seen that one before. But there was something even stranger next to him; a giant Ogre was standing there with a pint in his hand (seemed like a woefully inadequate amount for a creature of his size), laughing in the Rodent's face. He couldn't see the Rodent's face, and that was a shame, because he'd probably have been putting on a funny expression. Off in one of the corners, he squinted at the redhead witch hanging about in the shade. It wasn't an evil squint, mind you, but a competitive squint; he had been at the tavern for about a week now, and had had ample opportunity to acquaint himself with that one. He couldn't help but admire her ingenuity with that Crossbow of hers. She could prove problematic if any big-time mercenary work pops up, with all that old-school magic of hers. Cheating? Yes, but only if you got caught. Then there was that Sheep herder at one of the tables. Best ignore that one, he thought. He'd been sneaking about 'his' land again, and he didn't seem to have a good sense of humour. The sort of person who'd go nuts if you so much as mentioned the idea of controlling animal population. Which was a shame, given the enormous Wolf he'd spotted in the area. That was going to prove quite the prize, when he had some free time. What was particularly irritating at this time in the morning, though, was the sheer business of the place. The Zizz usually sat in one of the comfy seats off in the corner somewhere, but it seemed like that area was flooded with young fools getting drunk at nine A.M., or whatever time it was. Morons! They'd probably end up dead before the day was done, he thought as he chuckled to himself slightly, though not forgetting his irritation. As a result of these morons, however, the Zizz was forced to manuever his way past quite a few patrons (not an easy task thanks to his height and tail swaying about) and clamber up on top a lone stool at the bar, somewhere he rarely ever sat. There was a good reason for this, which made itself apparent pretty soon. Ignoring the great wall that was the Ogre to his left, he rummaged about in one of his belt pockets to retrieve his prized Pipe, made of dark wood as per usual Zizz preference. Removing the little cap to stop all the pre-packed 'medicinal' herbs from falling out, he removed a match from the same pocket and attempted to strike it against the bar. No luck. He tried it again, and again, and about six more 'agains' before he could finally squeeze a little flame off it, grumbling to himself the entire time. That was another weird thing about the tavern; it always took more effort to light matches. Some sort of newfangled suppression field, perhaps, which might also explain the sheer lack of the usual bar fights he'd seen in... just about every other tavern he'd been to. Except the ones in Tarzblik, obviously. For entirely different reasons. Finally, he stuck his Pipe in his toothy mouth and lit it with the match, waving it about afterwards to turn the fire into a little smoke puff. Of course, that was nothing compared to what happened afterwards as the Zizz began to actually smoke said Pipe, releasing much bigger puffs of smoke which spread across the bar. Of course the Zizz didn't particularly care for any inconvenience this may cause, since the calming herbal sensation had him captivated. It was enough to make him grin again, in that classic terrifying fashion Zizz were known for.</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was slightly disappointed that Kat hadn't taken the mug he had offered, but she did already have one. He then heard the orge's response and even though he kept a straight face Azzrix had a vein bulging on his head. How dare this creature make his offer of help a game, if he wasn't of noble birth then he would have taken this beast's head. Even though his mind was thinking violent thoughts Azzrix still smiled at the inferior creature before him. "You're a funny one ogre, what is your name, you do have a name right?" he asked with a smile still imagining throwing a knife at him. He took sips of his mead and felt his anger calm down for a bit. He was waiting to see what kind of mission he could take to earn some money and also see if there would be a chance for him to steal from a challenging wealthy person, maybe he would also get an assassination mission. God only knows when he would get a chance to practice his assassin skills on a mission and he wondered how well the others would do on such missions. Azzrix was more interested in working with magic users, muscle was good, but he had plenty of that and anymore stealthy people would mean that he would lose the franchise, he had enough stealth. Magic on other hand he had none of and so getting a good magic user to work with him would open up a whole world of possibility and fencing magical artifacts would get him a really great amount of gold, he's heard stories about some magic guilds being loaded thanks some of them being able to make gold with their magic. Azzrix especially would love to get his hands on the alchemy formula to create gold if it existed, an infinite amount of gold would be very useful for expanding his family's influence and ambitions of his own.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Dat'd be Drubbins." The Ogre announced proudly. "Dats da name..." He quiets down, thinking back. Drubbins didn't have the best memory in the world. He remembered general things, but who's and where's and when's generally leaked out of his head between bosses. He didn't consider this a bad thing, it cleared space for all the new people he'd be putting in his head, but even he wouldn't forget a life changing encounter. "Dats da name I was givin' by Malia Burg, da Source-ress, on account a my big 'ands and what I could do wif 'em."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire listened intently to Historia as she answered her question, nodding slightly here and there. As soon as her...friend, here got her food, Claire worked up the courage to try her own. Clearly far behind Mysaren, she took a few dainty bites of her meal. Honestly she was quite hungry, but she never knew eating any other way. "It certainly is..." Claire stopped to look around the place, choosing a word for the tavern. "Warm." She finished. She regarded the large ogre, now enjoying a drink with the stoic barhand and ratman. Next was the white haired boy with animal ears. He was the source of the magic earlier...The cheery blue, working as she wanted, and another new face. A reptilian man smoking to himself at another seat..."and interesting." She continued before going back to eating. Her food was warm and quite good, not what she was used to, but she was enjoying it so far. As she ate she on and off watched her two companions. They were quite different people, but they didn't seem bad. "Thank you." She added softly, avoiding eye contact. She didn't know what exactly she was thanking them for, but it seemed right.</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) The tavern was certainly getting lively. People were bustling this way and that, mingling with each other, and Kat was just about done with all this for the day. Entertaining characters aside, she was tired. Hunting in the forest all night tended to be a draining experience. Kat knew, tired as she was, any reservations she had about making smartass comments would be all but gone. And Hel could only hold her back so much. "Well," she said with an exaggerated sigh, patting Hel on his great furry head to signal it was time. "This has been a pleasure, my lord," she said to Azzrix, "but I really must be going." Hel got up so Kat could stand. It was time for a nice nap in the forest. She had a permanent room at the tavern, but if the magical mishap had been any indication for the day, it would be too rowdy here to get any rest. On their way out as they weaved through the crowd, Kat saw some people that made her reconsider. The Zizz was out and about, which usually meant a fun time. And Felan had just entered in his quiet way. He wasn't as lively, but Hel was fond enough of him. Kat just gave them both quick nods as she left. When they finally got outside, Hel almost immediately shoved her back through the door. A frantic horse, wild and riderless was thundering towards them. The snow leopard jumped in front of her, baring his fangs and hissing at the mare. The horse slid to a stop, tearing up her front legs with a screech. And then she was turning, dashing away from the two of them. Lowering his hackles, Hel relaxed his stance, while Kat just looked after the horse, eyebrow raised. It was then that she saw the horse's rider, flat on the ground. Glancing at Hel, she walked around her companion to squat next to the man. "Trouble with your horse?" she said slyly, A smirk making its way onto her face. Hel plodded up beside her and nudged him a bit with his nose, sniffing.</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske Although she didn't quite agree, Tahira smiled at the comment about Viggo's music as she sat down in the chair Margaret had offered her. The charm that the witch was referring to intrigued her, as their magic both strayed along a similar path, so she pulled back her hood far enough to expose her amber eyes so that she could see it in detail. Her senses were still upset from the earlier shock, but she could still identify the trinket's energy. She was capable of making her own enchantments, but she preferred keeping them temporary, which meant she wasn't arrayed in enchanted items unless she was going out on one of the few missions that caught her attention. In three months, she had only found a handful of jobs that interested her. Realizing she had been silent for a second longer than was comfortable, Tahira looked up from the charm. "How long have you practiced the arts?" she asked, hesitant at the personal question. However, magic users were so dynamic in skill and knowledge it was natural for her to be curious.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Viggo concludes his ballad and scowls for a minute at the denizens of the tavern, glancing down to find his pail of coins just as full as it had been when he began playing. He grumbles something to himself as he slings his guitar around his back, hopping off the stage and sauntering over to the bar to grab a drink, knowing that for his next song, he'd need his voice to be "well oiled". Putting down a small tower of coins harvested from his donation pail, the bard glances towards Bernard and puts on a guise of friendliness. "Bernard, you stoic son of a bitch, how about a couple of beers" he chimes with a handsome, albeit toothy grin. Assuming he gets his due alcohol, having paid the price in silver, Viggo would return to the stage, sitting down cross legged as he ploughs through the two drinks, abolishing the first in half a minute before swiftly moving onto the next. Once sufficiently drowsed by the beer, Viggo stands once more, kicking the stool backwards and out of the way. Drawing his guitar from his back once more, he adopts a wide-legged stance before he begins to pluck once more at the strings of instrument. The new song begins much like the one before, though after a few seconds the noise of his guitar shifts to become much more metallic and offensive to some ears. The powerful riffs ring out from the instrument with an energetic wave, inspiring courage and vigour in all that listen, unless of course your will is powerful enough to resist Viggo's musical charms. As the song finds its pace, Viggo begins to rock his head up and down with thumping rhythm, causing his hair to flow in time with his movements.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale "You're welcome." Historia told Miss Claire with a smile, though she wasn't quite sure what she was thanking her for? For answering her question was the most likely reason Historia could come up with. As Historia started to eat though, she noticed that Miss Mysaren seemed...well hungry for one thing. She was glad that Miss Mysaren was able to get a meal. But she also seemed, nervous? Scared? A bit of both? Well, that whole commotion with the energy, getting hit with Historia's wings, among the many other exciting things that had happened were probably the cause of it. Historia decided that she had to do something to take her mind off of that. "Um..." Historia said between bites. "My last name is Saurvale. I'm from the floating islands of Anemoi."She paused, taking another bite and trying to figure out what else to say. "I'm currently saving up money to start traveling again. I kind of ran out when I got to this city. In fact, the first day I arrived, I got pickpocketed, which is always wonderful to find out." Historia said with sarcasm before coughing some with the smoke. She waved her hand in front of her face to clear some of the smoke away before continuing. "I found myself in this Tavern, hoping to buy some food. Thankfully, even though I didn't have money, someone was kind enough to pay for my meal. I hope to find the kind patron and pay them back before I leave, though I don't know when that'll be." Historia finished with a smile before shifting her attention to the stage. "The bard is certainly getting more energetic with his tunes isn't he?" She added after a few moments of listening to the song.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren eyed Historia as she spoke, downing her own drink and sighing. Kid was sharing a lot of information to someone she just met. She heard the racket of the band behind her and rolled her eyes, starting to rub her temples. She was going to need a couple more drinks for this. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Mysaren. I was born somewhere and did a lot of things. It's not wise to start spouting life stories to people, kid. People will use it against you, you know. Hopes and dreams." She had done it before, and she didn't like it, not one bit. She shrugged, looking down her cup to see if she had anything left. Nothing. She pushed her plate and cup to the side and spun around, leaning back on the bar. She knew about body language, and if she was going to last a minute in this place, then she would have to look confident. She noticed that the orc, maybe an ogre, was talking to some rat fellow and another man over somewhere else. There was also a lizard guy sitting next to her, blowing smoke all over the bar, smoke that made her feel a bit... weird. She swiped the smoke away with her hand and watched the rest of the bar carefully.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen was laying on the ground. Eyes closed in pain, he sat up and rubbed his head. He felt something nudge him in the side. "No trouble. Although this fault would be mine," he replied and opened an eye towards the stranger. He was greeted with the sight of a large, very large pale cat. "What th-!" he yelled as his face immediately reflected panic and he instinctively jumped away from the predator. His right hand immediately moved to the hilt of the sword on his back. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the figure of a woman. She was dressed in hunting garments typical leather boots, brown pants, and a green garment. The shock in his face was visible as he saw her missing arm."Fabric looks rather plain, probably some local village peasant girl," he thought. Rouen shifed his attention back onto the cat who didn't seem to be in too much of a threatening posture. He moved his hand away from the hilt of his sword and back down. "Um, that creature wouldn't be yours would it villager?" he asked.</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat just stared at him, eyebrow raised, as the stranger's face went through the typical set of expressions people made when faced with her and Hel for the first time. Panic, to shock, to confusion. Yup. Every time. Hel gave a little growl when the man reached for his sword, but he backed off soon enough as he finally began to understand the situation. The stranger then began to look her over, evaluating, and Kat did the same. He was dirty and unshaven, but still clearly someone with some important title – the massive pauldron he wore on his shoulder and the blade he carried spoke to that. So some knight, then. He certainly looked the part under all that grime… he was so big that if he hugged someone, he'd probably squeeze the life right out of them. It's no wonder the horse threw him off, Kat snarked to herself. Poor beast was probably protesting all this weight. She blinked then at his next choice of words. Villager. It'd been a very long time since Kat had belonged to any village. Hel once again raised his hackles at the knight when he called the snow leopard a pet, and Kat just smirked, brushing her fingers through his fur to calm him. "You don't bite him, he won't bite back," she said as an answer. Pushing herself up, she brushed her hand on her pants and looked down at him. Hel took a step in front of her, putting his shoulders between the girl and the knight. Apparently, he was still a bit sore at being called a 'pet.' Some song was playing in the tavern that Kat really didn't care for, but for some reason or other, she was feeling less tired as she stretched her neck. Perhaps a nap in the woods wasn't so necessary after all. "Your horse is long gone, by the way. Probably still running for its life." She eyed him again, lingering on the metal pauldron and oversized sword. Really, oversized was a good word to summarize him as a whole. Have fun lugging yourself to the closest horse trader.</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern Naida sees the look of irritation on his face and cringes. She does not exactly have a filter when it comes to saying things and she is so used to treating people like they are younger than she is. She listens to him for a few moments before answering his question. "Of course we can go inside. The Blue Moon is one of the best taverns in the realm!" Naida's grin gets wide. She leads him inside and flits over to the counter. "I'm assuming, since you're new here, that you probably don't know what to drink. Ask anyone! I will always know what you want to drink even when you don't know it yourself." She flits back over to him, her wings shedding fairy dust and glitter everywhere. She eyes him up and down and circles him before saying, "You could probably use a nice Fey Buster ale. That's a classic here and with a bit of my touch, it will taste like the Gods made it themselves." She grins at him and flies back over the counter. Moving rapidly, she grabs a large ale glass, one big enough for the large man, and begins to fill it with ale. Being back in the Tavern and farther away from the she-demon allows Naida to have her energy back. She moves quickly, sprinkling a little bit of fairy dust in the ale in between mixes and pours. She then shakes the ale up. Because the glass is clear, it is noticeable when the ale changes from a light brown color to more a of golden silvery color. She smiles at the color before flying back over to Rouen and handing him the drink. "Here you go. One of my specialties. Because you're new around here, this one's on the house." She gives him a smile. "It will warm up you right quick and make you feel like a new man." She watches him closely. "If you need a place to stay, we have empty rooms here. A lot of our customers live here actually. We have a homely kind of feel to us." She smiles at him again and waits for him to take a drink. She looks over at Sess and gives him a smile as well. No one has ever not liked her ale, unless it was another fey or mermaid. They have tasted it all before.</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Sessamaru studied the man, and he couldn't help but feel a tingling sensation. This man possessed power and it was tangible, especially to someone closely connected to the Nexus, the source of all energies. Rouen looked strong and held himself with a certain amount of self-importance. Though he was human, Sess knew of humans that could prove to be a threat to peace, whether they meant well or not. This man... Sessamaru felt he needed to keep close attention to him, otherwise the peace he strove for would fall into ruin. Nevertheless, he held his smile, undeterred by his body language. Throughout it all, he did not notice Naida's fingers digging into his arm and when she relieved the pressure to invite the man in, he looked down to his arm. With a shrug, he turned to Katelia and gave her a warm smile. She was a welcome sight to sore eyes, his cautious nature fading away. "Miss Katelia," Sessamaru greeted, then he turned his attention to her ally. "Mister Hel," he added, kneeling and scratching the leopard behind the ears. "Why don't you stay a while? It would be great if you two could enjoy what the Tavern has to offer." Sessamaru rose slowly, turning his attention back onto Naida and the knight. Naida smiled at him as she made the man a Fey Buster Ale, her most famous drink. "This place could use a little livening up, after all!" He laughed, turning back to the young woman. The half-breed outstretched his left hand to her, hoping she would accept his offer to remain.</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan stayed to himself, big surprise there, while he ate his second breakfast as civilly as possible. At some point, he had stopped fooling around with the knife and just skewered large chunks of meat on his fork. But at least he was using a fork. He was near the point of finishing, already thinking of the chores he had at home, when one of the tavern's patrons came over to his table. Felan looked up as a lizard man sat down in front of him. The lizard man. The one he had caught trying to hunt on his land several times. The large man frowned. The reptile began on about some offer he had, each word only digging himself deeper. Felan stared at him with an expression of complete uninterest. The words chosen by the reptile were not very flattering; it was clear that striking deals was not his strong point. When he finally finished, Felan having polished off the last of his meal, the skin changer pushed his plate aside. "I am not a goat, and I am not a child. I would appreciate if you would stop referring to me as one," He said, his voice almost like a growl. He was blatantly displeased. Felan didn't care how old the lizard was. He was a full grown man, and he refused to be called a 'kid', especially by a being who clearly lacked good judgement. "And whatever offer you think you have, you can forget it. I have no care for anything you can provide."</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat caught the silver coin out of reflex – her mind was still trying to process what the knight had said. And then it rammed into her like a charging bear. He… he–! "Hey!" she shouted, suddenly more pissed off than she'd been in a long time. Raising her hand, she put all the force she could into it and threw the coin at the back of the knight's head. She was really better with knives (and had considered grabbing one for a split second and throwing that instead – that'd show this ass who could be 'productive') but her aim was true nonetheless, and the flash of silver darted through the air. Hel was staring after him too, hissing with his tail twitching behind him. If Kat didn't stab this idiot, the snow leopard certainly wouldn't mind taking a crack at him. "Look asshole, I don't give a shit what dukedom or castle or whatever you grew up in, and I don't need your pity," she spat at him. Her fingers were twitching, itching for another thing to throw at him. Her hand drifted to her belt where her knives rested. Gods, it would be satisfying. Hel glanced up at her, very close to letting her throw the knife. The knight certainly deserved it for all he said. But… they were standing too close together, and Kat was really only effective at a distance. The knight was too large, and Kat was too… not. Getting into a fight with this man would only end badly, even with Hel at Kat's side. He couldn't guarantee he could keep the knight away from her if she started something. And thus, Hel jumped between the two, giving Kat a hard stare. Not now. Kat just glared back, because they both knew this guy had it coming. After several tense moments, Kat just gave a huff and looked away, conceding. She looked back up at the knight through narrowed eyes. "You talk to me again, I'm letting my pet tear your throat out." Kat just looked down at the hand Sess offered. It was his left one, which was annoying. She was in a bad mood, and his consideration just aggravated her further. "We know what the tavern has to offer," she hissed back. "We were the ones out all night hunting it down." With that, she brushed past him, Hel following close behind, still glaring at the knight. "Hey Bernie!" she shouted as she shoved her way through the door. "I need a drink."</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Katelia's outburst made Sessamaru take a step back, his expression quizzical. Whoa! She's a powder keg! he thought, worried. However, he held his ground as he approached her once more. When she lashed out at him, an expression of pain flashed across his face. It has nothing to do with you, he reassured himself, knowing she wasn't angry at him. He turned to face the man. Sess was no stranger to judgement, and Rouen's eyes screamed superiority. Katelia's reentrance to the tavern was not a beautiful one, and Sess felt the tension between her and the man. The swordmage felt a much larger surge of power, his eyes widening in alarm. Thinking frantically, he took hurried steps back inside the tavern and... "Ack!" He tripped. He fell forward into a wild roll and faceplanted into the bar. The swordmage felt great pain in his nose and chin, his forehead very sore. He felt something wet on his head, but he was unsure of what it was. [Rupert] Rupert, minding his own wizardly business drinking his magical drink, leaped from his seat with a start, dropping his bottle. The liquid inside poured over a familiar figure's head. He turned, when his near-fatal heart attack ended, and glared at the person. "Dagnabbit, you pup!" He howled, glaring at Sess who was drenched in Regulus Blue, a liquid that was clear with a bluish glow. "First you unleash a wave of magic due to your own stupidity, and now you're wasting my perfectly good mead? I'll have your ears for this!" The old grump went on, sending his ancient foot into Sess's stomach. Upon impact, both Sess and Rupert howled out in pain, the old man hopping around, crying, "my foot! My beautifully aged foot!" Whilst Sess simply lay where he was, dazed after the initial howl.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern Naida grins as Rouen takes his first sip of her famous drink. She squints her eyes and sees his aura electrify with energy and smiles. That fairy dust was from her own personal collection that she collects off her wings and cleans every day so that she can have some to make this drink with. It was a lot of the customers' favorite drink because it gave them energy. Suddenly, she hears a crash behind her and she whips around to see Sessamaru lying on the ground underneath the bar with Rupert's Regulus Blue drink all over him. Rupert then kicks him and she cringes at the howling. She swears under her breath and flits over to Sess, helping him to his feet. She grabs a towel from back behind the bar, creates an ice ball out of the water in the air and wraps the towel around the ice ball, grabbing Sess's hand and placing the towel with the ball in it. She then presses the hand with the towel in it to his stomach and forces him to hold it there before she flits over to Rupert. "Here, take this Rupert!" she says over his yelling. She hands him a similar ice ball in a towel before flitting back over to the spill. She takes a deep breath, sucking in her stomach, and holds out her hands. Silvery glitter flutters from her hand and the mead begins to lift up from the wooden floor. Once she has all of the mead from the cracks of the wood, she grabs the glass that Rupert had and puts the mead back into it, making sure that she gets every drop of it from Sess and from the wood. She pours the ruined mead out and gets Rupert another glass of his mead. She sighs and sets the glass down on the back. She looks over at Sess and says, "I can't leave you for two minutes without you getting into trouble, can I?" she says with a teasing tone.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia was waiting for a response from her acquaintances (was it too soon to call them friends?) when she noticed that things were starting to...well, a ruckus was starting again. In one part of the Tavern, the bard was starting an argument with a red head lady, and in another part...yelling already. Historia turned just in time to see something shiny fly over and hit a knight looking man on the head. oh...this wasn't going to be good. Historia wondered if there was something she could do, as noble's were no stranger to her past, so she started to get up. As she did so, so did the knight...while Mr.Sess tripped nearby, hitting his face right on the bar, then having Mr. Rupurt's drink spilled on him to add insult to injury... before Mr.Rupurt added an extra layer of injury onto that by kicking Mr. Sess in the stomach, causing them both pain. Historia winced a little as she watched Miss Naida start to tend to him, before turning back to the knight. "Oh for the love of..." Not only was he standing there, looking like he was about to kill someone, but it looked like he was going after Miss Kat. Sure, alone, the knight would have probably been too much for Miss Kat, but Miss Kat also had Hel...Historia noticed that the knight took a step forward, towards Miss Kat and Hel and she realized someone had to do something before things got out of hand. Though it probably wasn't the wisest decision she had ever made in her life, Historia decided she would try. "Excuse me for a minute." She said nervously to her companions and quick walked over to in front of (but not too close) to the knight...with her back to Hel. Historia certainly had come full circle when it came to cats today hadn't she... "E-Excuse me M'lord." She stuttered a bit before taking a breath trying to calm down. "I understand that you are upset right now, but we've already had some problems in this tavern today..." She took another breath, "Starting a fight wouldn't do any good right now, and I am sure that a man of stature would be able to put whatever transgression that has went down between you and Miss Kat behind you for the good of the public." Historia bowed a little "I'm sorry if I come off a bit rude and putting my nose where it doesn't belong, but currently this Tavern is my home and I'd like for nothing else to happen in it today."</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan began to tune the lizard out for a bit as the scene behind him caught his attention. Some poor bastard was trying to pick a fight with Kat, the tavern's hunter. He craned his neck to look the offender up and down, an amused smirk briefly gracing his lips. Then the zizz regained his attention. He turned back to the lizard man, a stern frown reappearing on his face. "A wolf?" He asked flatly. "Yes, I've seen it a couple times." Felan was very clearly not impressed by this information. "And I've never had trouble with it, or any wolf for that matter. Maybe if you keep your ass off my land, you won't either." There was almost a threatening undertone there. Felan didn't like killing; he figured every life he took was a little more taken from his own. Unless it was a goblin life, of course. But regardless, he only had so much patience. If the lizard kept slithering around his land, Felan would give him a reason to pack.</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat was still fuming when she practically threw herself into her usual seat, the tavern's strongest drink in hand. Gods, she was pissed. She dealt with idiots all day and didn't get more than annoyed at them, and now this. Where the hell had her composure gone? That was a silly question. She knew exactly where it'd gone: out the door the instant the knight had the nerve to insinuate Kat was some down-on-her-luck waif, unable to do anything without assistance. (Because really, that's exactly what she was, wasn't it?) She was ripped out of her thoughts when she heard Hel growling. The knight was up and glowering, taking a purposeful step towards her. The leopard stood between his charge and this new threat, muscles tensed and ready to spring if the stranger made a move. She took in a breath to mouth off again, but that runt with the mismatched wings shot up, apparently feeling the need to intervene. Kat's eyebrow twitches as she just got more pissed off. Now this twerp thought she needed help, too. "No," she called out. She forced herself to relax in her seat, once again running her fingers through Hel's fur. He just glanced back at her, a questioning look on his face. "Let 'im try what he wants. I wanna see Bernie throw his sorry ass out." That was probably the one reason she'd yet to draw a knife. Kat'd been at the Blue Moon Tavern long enough to know how bar fights ended.</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia let out quite the audible sigh when she realized that this knight was most likely not going to cause any trouble now. Which was good, because he had been gathering up electricity (was that his magic?) and that was one of the things that really didn't mix well with Historia. But thankfully Historia had been right in her assumptions of how this nobleman would act if she reached out to his better nature as humbly as she could. Compared to the look of ready to kill someone that he had when Historia stepped in (and she had no idea why she hadn't stepped right back out at that point) to the look now that he was going over to help Mr. Sess at the bar, it was clear to her that she had done the right thing. Even if it did annoy Miss Kat. Speaking of which, Historia turned around and took a few steps towards Miss Kat (while being weary of Hel's reaction) and said, "Pardon my intervention Miss Kat. I know how strong you are, and with Hel, there's not a lot that either of you can't do. But many of us here in the Tavern are tired of fighting for the day and Mr. Bernard would probably like it if he didn't have to break up another fight in here." She started to turn but then added, "I'll try to keep to myself the next time though..." with that she turned back to her seat, walking back and sitting down between Claire and Mysaren. "Sorry about that." Historia said, a little embarrassed. "So um...what were we talking about?"</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was still drinking when he saw the altercation go on between Kat and the newcomer. Had he not drank so much then he would have tried to break it up, but the alcohol made the idea of fight seem entertaining and he was tempted to start cheering them on, but Historia intervened, which was a bit of a surprise since she seemed very shy to him, but she actually went up to talk to a big swordsmen who seemed to have electrical powers. "Very well, little lady. I must thank you for reminding my of my post. After all manners do make the man," he said looking at her. "I shall cause no further trouble in your abode, have a good day." he heard Rouen say, he already liked this newcomer already. It was a rare thing to find such discipline, he had to be of noble birth to have manners like that Azzrix thought to himself, maybe they could work together eventually, he never objected to having more muscle in his party. He walked over to where Historia, Claire and Mysaren were sitting to start up a conversation. "That was an admirible attempt at ending their argument before it became a fight" he said to Historia. He then looked at the other two with her and gave a polite bow. "Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Azzrix Grimmor. I am paying for all of the drinks so please drink whatever you like. I hope that we can do business sometime in the near future" he said to them with a smile.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren nodded. Yes, she just wanted to show concern for Historia, that's all. She had seen too many good kids lose everything just because they got a bit too hopeful. "I just don't wish to be rude, Historia," She said after a while, her voice low and dark, "just remember that bad things can happen to good people. Watch out for yourself. At least you have me now, yeah?" At the last sentence, she grinned again, sighing and watching the patrons of the bar. "A tour?" She said, considering the possibility. Yes, a tour would be very nice. All she knew about was the tavern and the graveyard, but knowing of the other houses and buildings, especially a shop to sell her wares, would be very useful to know about. Especially anywhere she could run to in case of trouble, or in case that she needed to grab a lot of items and get the hell out of town, which had happened a few times. The guards would be called, she would grab everything she can within the nearest big house she could find, and she fled, never to be seen again. Mysaren paid little attention to the fight about to start, even when Historia got involved. She could say with about 90% accuracy that no one would've died from the fight, at least not within the first while of it. Historia handled it surprisingly well, in a more diplomatic way than she would've. Historia spoke and Mysaren looked at her. "Uhm, tour around town, things like that. That would be very useful, thank you, Historia." She didn't like that she was making friends at this point. Friends just kept her in town longer, and if she wasn't on the move constantly, someone would finally catch up to her, and thus ends the story of Mysaren. Mysaren looked up as Azzrix introduced himself, raising an eyebrow and watching him carefully. "Mysaren. Pleasure." She said rather bluntly, something off about the man in front of her. He seemed shady to her, and she didn't exactly feel like trusting him right now. Ah, what the hell, benefit of the doubt, right? She still looked wary as he spoke. "Thank you for the drinks, Azzrix, but tell me, what business did you have in mind?"</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Rupert] Rupert hopped around for a good while until Naida came by with a ball of ice wrapped in a towel. However, when she handed it to the old man, he was too unfocused to keep a hold of the item, causing it to fall onto his other foot. "Yow!" He cried, slamming his other foot down and raising the other one to hold. However, his face lit up like a flame and he dropped the other foot to grasp the other, continuing this as he cried and cursed. This continued for a good while, causing Rupert to hop around the entire bar switching feet as he hopped around. [Sessamaru] The half-breed looked at Naida as she helped him hold the ball of ice over his stomach as she help raised him to his feet, and he smiled, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. "Indeed, Miss Naida," he told her, laughing. "I feel bad for Mister Rupert, though. He will not get to enjoy his drink for a good while." Sessamaru stood up right and placed the ice-towel onto the bar, scratching the back of his head; an unorthodox habit of his. "Honestly though, I am quite fine. Nothing more than a bit of shock." He explained, his smile becoming a wide grin. However, the moment the sentence ended, his stomach let out a ferocious growl, reminiscent of a jungle cat! The half-breed bent forward, holding his stomach. "Except that," he groaned. "Miss Naida, may I have some food, please?" Sess asked, his stomach once again growling with hunger. This ground made the fox-eared youth sink to the floor. Already he could smell the food in the kitchen, causing yet another roar from his stomach. "Ugh..." he moaned, attempting to crawl his way up a stool. "Fooooooood..."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "...Y'sure 'bout that, mister?" Rimau asked, quizically turning his eyes upward as if to actually look quite worried about his Sheep. Of course it wasn't really that bad; there's lots more Sheep in the world. "...Okay, if y'say so. I do believe we live in a... 'democracy' 'ere." He said, recognising the man's choice as an adult, but at the same time making an 'inverted commas' gesture when he said 'democracy'; something of a foreign and kind of silly concept to the old Zizz. "Jus' remember, if that big-ass canid starts a lil' bloodbath at y'pasture, you come an' see me." The Zizz concluded with confidence that this would not be the last Felan heard about this, taking another puff into Felan's big, humourless face before he pulled his chair away, clambering back to the floor. "'Ave a superb day, mister." Soon after that was over with, he found himself turning back to witness that other old guy at the bar, the one that always complained about literally everything. Seemed like he was doing some kind of ritual dance, going 'wowowowow' like some kind a... he didn't even know what. "What in Gekko's name... pffffftthehehehe!" He muttered in response, causing him to clinch his gut in his stifled laughter as he walked over to the bar again, coughing as he approached another barstool. Clambering back up to the bar, he noticed the Rodent was still there, still making himself look like a fool, it seemed. Even better, Naida had returned, though she was still talking with that dog-eared kid. "'Ey, Naida, m'lady, y'back!" He said pleasantly, putting on his toothy grin again. "Terribly sorry for the ramblin' again, but I still 'aven't 'ad m'juice. But no rush. By th'way, what in th'ell was up w'that dumb-ass back there, the one with th'big-ass compensator sword?" He asked, pointing towards said dumb-ass, who for some reason was still standing even after the crazy cat lady had yelled at him. From what he had gathered, when the crazy cat lady got mad, she tended to hurt people. Then again... newfangled suppression field.</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) "Tch." Damn right the brat should keep to herself. Now Kat was just a bundle of aggravation and nerves with no way to relieve it all. Suddenly, she grabbed a knife from her belt, and her arm shot forward, knife flying through the air. The blade embedded itself several inches deep into the adjacent tavern wall. She doubted Bernard would be pleased, but she was too caught up in her own emotions to care at the moment. Besides, Bernie was never pleased – not that Kat could tell, at least. Hel started a bit when Kat took out her aggravations on the wall, and looked back at her. With no more threats to deal with, he turned his full attention back to her, nudging her leg with a paw and resting his large head on her lap, making small noises in the back of his throat. Kat ran a hand over her face and heaved a sigh. "Yeah, I know," she said in a low voice. This was ridiculous. She shouldn't have been this worked up. She gave him a pat on the head and then pulled a small copper coin out of her pocket. Still buzzing with energy, she balanced the coin on the back of her first finger and began turning it over from one finger to the next, back and forth.</s>
<\|description\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Race: Human (probably) Gender: Female Age: 23 (maybe) Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her. Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body. Details Body build: Little Hair: Short, messy Hair color: White Skin color: Dark brown Eye/Iris color: Silver Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg) Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months. Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next. Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs. Powers: Connection to Hel Abilities: None that she knows of Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker Magic: N/A Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat blinked when the priest's words finally trickled in through her 'annoying shit I don't need to hear' filter. "However, it is being guarded by Drakas, Remnants from the continent of Shoba." She very nearly slammed the paper back onto the board then and there. Remnants… After what happened last time, Kat'd done all she could to avoid them. Memories surfaced through a fog: a Remant's shriek, pain like fire igniting her blood, a snow leopard's yowl… she felt her breath catch in her throat at the idea of facing one again. She felt like a child, letting herself be paralyzed so, but she couldn't bring herself back from her reaction. Hel watched her with a heavy gaze, sensing her unrest. A new voice cut through the air, jolting her out of her thoughts. It was the witch, Tahira, asking to come along on the quest Kat'd just claimed. She was half tempted to just shove the paper at the other woman and tell her to do it on her own, but she hesitated. Kat eyed her, and looked back at Hel. The great cat's tail swayed easily behind him, back and forth, measuring the seconds. Kat remembered the silver coin the knight had given her, and how he'd reassured her she could live a fulfilling life in spite of her 'impairment.' She remembered how easily Hel had killed the boar they'd spent the night hunting, carrying it on his back all the way to the tavern, never slowing or tiring, or needing any help at all. She remembered the memories she'd long trained herself to not think on, and the feeling of helplessness that came with them. It was a feeling that had once been alien to her. Kat's gaze focused then, and she turned back to Tahira. "Come along if you want," she replied, her voice bored and uncaring as ever. "Guess you're a better pick than most of these other idiots." The witch was… unsettling, but she had yet to do anything to annoy Kat. Hel didn't trust her, but that didn't say much. Hel rarely trusted anyone. Besides, she was almost as big a mystery to Kat as Bernard was, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't the least bit curious. That's what Kat thought, at least, when she asked herself why now of all times she accepted the idea of another companion on a job.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia watched as not only Mr. Grimmor left the group, but also Miss Mysaren followed suit as well, both of them going over to look for jobs at the board. "Uh, bye?" She called out to them before sitting back in her seat, continuing sipping on the drink Bernard was kind enough to give to her. She watched as the two found jobs and partners for themselves (or in Mr. Grimmor's case, rushing out the door to find his partners). Historia began to wonder if there would be that many jobs left as she watched people still look at all the jobs at the boards. Well, all the well paying jobs would most likely be taken, the ones that had higher difficulty. Historia didn't usually take those jobs, mainly cause she wasn't a very strong fighter. She preferred easier, albeit less paying most of the time, jobs. Historia looked at Miss Claire when she spoke up, asking about looking at the board. "Yes, I was going to take a look at the board anyways. It'd be nice to see what you might want to do as well." Historia told her with a smile as she got up and walked over with her to the board. There was only three jobs that really interested Histoira. A missing memory book that could be anywhere in the city, a quest to find a teenage thief, and a quest to find a lost dog. The dog one would most likely be the easiest to do for Historia as she could just fly above the city and look for it that way. But Miss Claire couldn't fly so that one was out of the question. AS for the one with the thief, Historia didn't really want to get involved with a quest that had a really good chance of confronting someone that might fight back. So for now, that also wasn't a good option. That left the memory book. That was something that she and Claire could do rather easily, and the quest giver was a nobleman so they might get paid decently after all. "Does this sound good to you?" Historia asked Miss Claire as she handed her the paper to look at.</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske "Come along if you want," she replied, her voice bored and uncaring as ever. "Guess you're a better pick than most of these other idiots." Kat was clearly on edge. Tahira was not an expert on interpreting body language, but the leopard was eyeing her master uneasily and, considering how close the two were, that was the only cue she needed to sense the woman's discomfort. However, she had long ago learned when it was best to stifle her curiosity. As long as it did not interfere with their mission, the diminutive woman's issues were none of her concern. Cocking her head to the side, she recalled something that might be of use to the two of them. "I believe the library holds a tome which refers to these 'Drakas' at some length," Tahira said. "You can make ready to depart while I retrieve it." Turning her back on the duo, she moved away from the job board and went through the door to the library. Her fingers traced a path along the spine of several books as she moved up and down the shelves, seeking the one she had mentioned. [i]Ah, there[i]. Her hand touched the well-worn bindings of a tome which was simply entitled On Shoba, and penned by an unknown scholar on the subject. She had yet to read it, but its inclusion in the tavern's surprisingly extensive library lent something to its credibility, so she removed it from the shelf, making a note of where it belonged. Leaving the library as quickly as she had entered, she ascended to the second floor to receive the leather satchel that hung from a hook in the wall of her room. Slipping the book into one of its pockets, she returned to the place she had left Kat, satisfied she was prepared.</s>	<\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat stood where Tahira left her for a moment, staring after the woman as she made her way to the library. Stuffing any memories she had down, she thought on the witch. She was a fair sort, didn't talk down to either Kat or Hel, smart, probably useful if you had her on your side… but something about her made Kat want to always know where she was. It was probably just her stoicism and ethereal nature that peaked Kat's curiosity, but still. She looked back to Hel, and said "Watch her, yeah?" This probably meant that any vindictive plans Kat had been concocting were off limits in regards to the jewel. She didn't know much about Tahira, but she struck her as someone respectful and dutiful. She'd probably frown on how Kat was not. The two made their way to their room in the tavern and Kat scooped up her bag, tossing things in or out of it as she thought of what they might need. Once they were done, they walked back to the kitchen and grabbed some handfuls of dried meat ("We killed it, we can take it," she called back to a waitress glaring at them) and filled her water flask from the tap. After that, they made their way back to the area by the board, Tahira already waiting for them. "You ready?" she asked.</s>
<\|description\|>Viggo Malmsteen Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 29 Occupation: Bard Personality/Interests: Viggo is an egotistical, nihilistic, and self-destructive person who lives only for self enjoyment. Reveling in the pleasures of life he has little care for trivialities like "responsibility" or "consequences". However, despite his faults, Viggo is utterly dedicated to his music career, and has no lack of discipline when it comes to practising his guitar or vocal talents. Appearance: Viggo is a tall and lithe person, with hints of muscularity in his arms and chest. Body build: As mentioned above, he is thin, but now scrawny, and tall for a human, standing at around 6'2. Hair: Viggo's pale golden hair flows down past his chest, and is light enough to majestically billow in a soft breeze. Skin color: This bard is unremarkably pale, little else to say here. Eye/Iris color: Viggo often wears dark paint around the sockets of his eyes, but his irises are a deep blue. Height/Weight: 6'2 / 155lbs Notable Features: Viggo often wears a cologne concocted from sweet smelling herbs and flowers, giving him an aroma that masks the smell of booze that perpetually floats around him. Clothing Description: Viggo wears a black sleeveless top when indoors, and adopts a larger longsleeved cloak of a similar colour when outside. His breeches are slightly greyer, but generally match stylistically with the rest of his outfit. Equipment: Viggo's prized possession is his guitar, as it so no ordinary device. Unlike most string instruments, Viggo's guitar is modified with socketed black crystals and panels of metal that run along the body and up into the neck. When the strings are thrashed, the instrument rings out a much harsher but powerful noise (ie. the noise of an electric guitar). However, the guitar's strings can still be plucked softly to mimic the sound of a lute or traditional (acoustic) guitar. The inner workings of the instrument are known to Viggo alone. Weapon(s): Viggo, by habit, carries a small dagger with him. Powers While Viggo's skill at guitar does stem from years of practise, he rightfully sees himself as a natural, and has been proficient with musical instruments from a young age. Abilities: Viggo is human, and therefore possesses few abnormal traits. Talents: Viggo is a masterful guitarist, and according to himself, the best in the world. He is also an incredible drinker, and known to rival dwarves in the amount of alcohol he can pump into his body before needing the help of a healer. Magic: While Viggo is not a mage or wizard by any standards, his knowledge of the arcane has allowed him to blend magic into his music, as such, Viggo's playing tends to have bizarre effects on people. Depending on the tempo, melody, and theme of the song, Viggo can slowly turn a group of people against one another, or make a situation calmer by lulling everyone into a state of peace and tranquility. Certain riffs can also summon dread or pain in individuals, though the effects of the spell are quickly broken if Viggo stops playing. History: (Read Rule VI.)</s> <\|message\|>Margaret von Eisenberg The Inn was still waking up and the day was beginning when a moaning heap shifted at a table far in the corner. Margaret felt like she had two heads, her normal one and one on the inside of it, much bigger and pushing out on her own head in all directions. The ale she could down with ease, but the liquors at the Inn she could have sworn were made out of divine tears. Blinking her eyes as the morning light mercilessly assaulted them and sent a few more stabbing sensations through her skull, the witch winces as she raised her face from the table she passed out at last night. It would appear the drinking got out of hand again. Well, she did always believe the body shouldn't go to the grave unused. Patting her side to check her satchel was still there and intact, she ran a hand through her red mane and looked around. The people were still sparse, much like any serious work opportunity lately. It was what lead her to this place. She heard from a few other mercs one could live here in return for service alone, which was exactly what she needed for now. Her wares sold here as well, many adventurers in need of a good healing salve or a magic dissolving charm coming through. However there was no thrill in it. She didn't come here to turn into a merchant. But luck was not on her side so she had to find the cure for the boredom on the bottom of the glass. Even the quick glance over to the mission board confirmed her suspicion. It even got taken down for the frame to be repaired! Margaret was itching to get out and bash some heads - right after soaking her own in a barrel of cold water - but the Gods just didn't want her out there. Even her cards agreed. Last night she drawn them for herself, and ended up with 'The Fool', 'The Magician', and 'Temperance'. Much to her dismay, over the time she noticed the combination of the fool and the magician usually indicated her self. And in this particular interpretation, she took Temperance for Boredom. Things were looking grim.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Katelia trudged towards the tavern beside Hel, her massive companion. The two had spent the night hunting, and now had a great boar draped over the snow leopard's back to show for their efforts. The flaming sky, painted in the sunrise, mirrored the blood still dripping from the fresh kill, staining Hel's coat and the ground beneath them. Really, the boar was the only reason Kat wasn't having Hel carry her now. She had no interest sitting behind that stinking beast. While the two companions made for an odd scene – a small girl with a missing arm, midnight skin, and snowy eyes and hair, and her huge, menacing snow leopard carrying a still-warm carcass – the townspeople they passed had long since grown accustomed to them. This was a trek the two made once every few days for the past year and a half, and though they still garnered some stares and whispers, people had accepted them as just a couple more characters that colored their world. "Hey Bernie," Kat called as she pushed the back entrance to the tavern open, "got your new supply." She wasn't actually sure if the old proprietor liked it when she called him that. Kat had started using the nickname in the hopes that he wouldn't. Testing your landlord/employer probably wasn't the wisest move, but Kat just couldn't figure the old codger out. Really, what the heck was his deal? Hel shrugged the boar off of his shoulders in the backroom and it landed with a great whump, blood no doubt staining the floor. This, too, Kat had him do intentionally. Most would yell or scold at their floor being seeped with blood, but this guy… Kat just shrugged her shoulders, once again deciding to leave the mystery of the Blue Moon Tavern proprietor for another day. Glancing around, she saw that the sprite waitress wasn't anywhere to be found yet. She was right annoying, but at least Kat knew what to make of her. Plus, she was fun to ruffle. Kat turned to the kitchen sink and began the process of rinsing off her hand and splashing water on her face. After that she grabbed an old rag to wipe down Hel (who always tried to swat her away whenever she did this). Finally rid of the blood, she grabbed an apple out of a barrel and turned to leave the kitchen to go to the front of the tavern. "Later, Bernie," she called behind her, Hel following her with his heavy footfalls. The two made their way to a table against a wall. Kat dropped herself into a chair, swinging her feet up on top of the table and leaning back in a move that could only be called 'unconcerned.' Hel settled himself at her side, resting his massive head on his paws, and the two watched as the tavern began to fill up for the day, Kat slowly eating her apple.</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Bernard] The barkeep stared at Claire for a short moment, turned and rang a silver bell that he had kept in his pocket. It did not take long for the chef to come out of the kitchen to appear before Bernard. The chef was an ordinary human with a large belly and a jovial face, his hair black and long, made into two braids. His hat was a traditional muffin-top, white like the rest of his clothing. The ever smiling chef waited until Bernard gestured with his thumb to the girl, grunting "Claire." The chef nodded and swiftly returned to the kitchen. The kitchen became alive with a racket befitting of an angry chef yelling at his lazy underlings, all of them rushing to prepare a meal. Bernard, expressionless, turned back to the entirety of the tavern and waited. Then, Katelia burst through the doors with a giant boar and her pet cat. She called him Bernie, and once more there was no reaction. He grunted when she dropped the boar. For the first time that day, Bernard moved and made his way towards the boar whilst Katelia went to the kitchen, retrieving the thing with a single hand, lifting it over his shoulders by the back leg and taking it to the kitchen. He ignored her as he passed by and tossed it nonchalantly into the Ice Room. Bernard left the Ice Room, the kitchen, and returned to his station, standing there as he watched the door, the patrons, and everything else. When Katelia returned from the kitchen, he nodded as she returned to her usual spot, remaining where he was as he rang a brass bell from within his pocket. The other waitresses in the tavern went to Bernard, who gestured to the blood on the floor. They went to work emphatically, not wanting to question Bernard. Not that they would get anything out of him besides a single syllable or a grunt.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren Location: Blue Moon Tavern Mysaren shifted through her money uncertainly, counting carefully. Yeah, she had plenty. She looked up to see a young woman with big wings, one black, one brown. She had longer hair, but it was neatly kept up, and apparently, the woman's name was Historia. She smiled smoothly, taking Historia's hand in hers. Historia was also significantly smaller than her, she could tell that much. "Pleasure to meet you, Historia. My name's Mysaren," She said, her accent thick but her voice was still steady and clear, "I don't mind at all. I rather enjoy the company." Historia seemed kind enough, maybe a bit naive to randomly approach someone in a tavern, especially someone sitting in the corner who smelled awful and was covered in dirt. She didn't mind, though, and always enjoyed a bit of conversation. She got up and went to sit up at the bar, sitting next to Historia, who was talking to someone else right now. She waited patiently for Historia to notice that she had sat up there. She would ask for a drink, but the barkeep... the barkeep was a bit scary. She was still on alert though, her eyes darting around the tavern. The place gave off a weird vibe to her, like it was almost too nice to be true. It was perfectly comfortable though, and she found herself slowly starting to relax. Maybe she was just overreacting, having been in far too many backwater inns where a death was always around the corner. She tapped her index finger on the table as looked around, noticing a girl coming in with a rather large cat of some sort. Her sword was still resting comfortably on her belt, and she wouldn't hesitate to draw it at the first sign of trouble, but after glancing over at the owner, her blood lust faded just as quickly as it had come. Something about the owner, or at least, the man she assumed was the owner, scared her. She didn't like feeling so scared, but something about the blank look on his face made her feel nervous, and she dealt with corpses for a living.</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire tried to nod to the chef as some form of thankful recognition, but he was gone to work before their eyes could meet. She let her eyes trail back to the interior, a winged girl who had just sat down near her, was now walking towards one wall of the tavern. Claire watched as she went and fearlessly spoke with a stranger. An armed stranger. As the girl seemed to start walking back, Claire jerked her head down. Starring was rude. A friendly voice to her side drew her eyes back up in mere seconds though. The same winged girl was sitting next to her, a warm smile on her lips. "Oh.." Claire muttered mindlessly. "Ah...My name is...Claire." She looked the girl up and down, taking in a few more details now that she wasn't moving. An interesting soul, to be sure. "No I don't mind...I was just hoping for company actually." A sort of lie, but she didn't wan't to push this girl away. She seemed quite nice. Claire looked past her new conversation partner to eye the other girl Historia had spoken to. It seems they were also invited over. Interesting... Almost as interesting as the one armed girl with a panther. That would be hard to beat though. She walked through the inner workings of the business with some obvious comfort, and went to sit with her...pet. Claire studied them for a moment. Interesting, interesting, interesting. "I have some food coming...if you don't mind." She mentioned to Historia. Some found it odd when one person ate in a group of others who didn't, and she didn't know if this winged fellow had any of her own coming or not. Not to mention the shifty third party in their little group. She regarded again the girl who was now sitting next to Historia, they seemed to be busy looking for a chance to ask the barkeep something. Maybe she would wait until they spoke first...</s>	<\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Malmsteen exits the lavatory, readjusting his belt as he looks at the newly repopulated tavern. His cruel gaze falls upon each member of the tavern in turn, judging everyone silently as he makes his way to the makeshift stage in the corner of the main floor. Grabbing a small stool as he passes, Viggo climbs onto the stage and takes his guitar off his back, saddling it across his chest. Once on stage, the pale musician sits and sheds his heavy black-leather jacket, letting it crumple to the ground behind him. Clearing his throat once, Viggo begins to tune his instrument, letting the strings twang softly as their pitch raises and lowers. After a few minutes of housekeeping, Viggo runs his calloused palm across the neck of his remarkable guitar, and begins to play. The melody is plucky and sharp, but has a certain harmony to it. The song rises and falls as Viggo's fingers climb up and down the neck of his instrument, his blond hair cascading forward and hiding his face as he continues to play the tune. The sophistication of the jaunty little ballad would inspire a foot-tap from anyone in a decent enough mood, and generally provides the otherwise quiet establishment with a pleasant and relaxing atmosphere. 'I bet none of these losers even recognise this as Zwelf's Fourth Ballad' he thinks to himself as he continues to play, 'Bah, to hell with such thoughts, I don't need their compliments or musical taste, only their coin...' he muses quietly, grinning as he continues to pluck at his fantastical guitar. After a little while, his song concludes, giving Viggo a chance to kick forward a small pail with a few shillings and silver pieces in it.</s>
<\|description\|>Viggo Malmsteen Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 29 Occupation: Bard Personality/Interests: Viggo is an egotistical, nihilistic, and self-destructive person who lives only for self enjoyment. Reveling in the pleasures of life he has little care for trivialities like "responsibility" or "consequences". However, despite his faults, Viggo is utterly dedicated to his music career, and has no lack of discipline when it comes to practising his guitar or vocal talents. Appearance: Viggo is a tall and lithe person, with hints of muscularity in his arms and chest. Body build: As mentioned above, he is thin, but now scrawny, and tall for a human, standing at around 6'2. Hair: Viggo's pale golden hair flows down past his chest, and is light enough to majestically billow in a soft breeze. Skin color: This bard is unremarkably pale, little else to say here. Eye/Iris color: Viggo often wears dark paint around the sockets of his eyes, but his irises are a deep blue. Height/Weight: 6'2 / 155lbs Notable Features: Viggo often wears a cologne concocted from sweet smelling herbs and flowers, giving him an aroma that masks the smell of booze that perpetually floats around him. Clothing Description: Viggo wears a black sleeveless top when indoors, and adopts a larger longsleeved cloak of a similar colour when outside. His breeches are slightly greyer, but generally match stylistically with the rest of his outfit. Equipment: Viggo's prized possession is his guitar, as it so no ordinary device. Unlike most string instruments, Viggo's guitar is modified with socketed black crystals and panels of metal that run along the body and up into the neck. When the strings are thrashed, the instrument rings out a much harsher but powerful noise (ie. the noise of an electric guitar). However, the guitar's strings can still be plucked softly to mimic the sound of a lute or traditional (acoustic) guitar. The inner workings of the instrument are known to Viggo alone. Weapon(s): Viggo, by habit, carries a small dagger with him. Powers While Viggo's skill at guitar does stem from years of practise, he rightfully sees himself as a natural, and has been proficient with musical instruments from a young age. Abilities: Viggo is human, and therefore possesses few abnormal traits. Talents: Viggo is a masterful guitarist, and according to himself, the best in the world. He is also an incredible drinker, and known to rival dwarves in the amount of alcohol he can pump into his body before needing the help of a healer. Magic: While Viggo is not a mage or wizard by any standards, his knowledge of the arcane has allowed him to blend magic into his music, as such, Viggo's playing tends to have bizarre effects on people. Depending on the tempo, melody, and theme of the song, Viggo can slowly turn a group of people against one another, or make a situation calmer by lulling everyone into a state of peace and tranquility. Certain riffs can also summon dread or pain in individuals, though the effects of the spell are quickly broken if Viggo stops playing. History: (Read Rule VI.)</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku The old Zizz soon descended the stairs and entered the main room of the tavern, scanning his head from left to right. It was considerably busier than usual this morning, he noticed. Lots of strange folk hanging around, too. There was some fancy-pants Rodent hanging about; could've sworn he's seen that one before. But there was something even stranger next to him; a giant Ogre was standing there with a pint in his hand (seemed like a woefully inadequate amount for a creature of his size), laughing in the Rodent's face. He couldn't see the Rodent's face, and that was a shame, because he'd probably have been putting on a funny expression. Off in one of the corners, he squinted at the redhead witch hanging about in the shade. It wasn't an evil squint, mind you, but a competitive squint; he had been at the tavern for about a week now, and had had ample opportunity to acquaint himself with that one. He couldn't help but admire her ingenuity with that Crossbow of hers. She could prove problematic if any big-time mercenary work pops up, with all that old-school magic of hers. Cheating? Yes, but only if you got caught. Then there was that Sheep herder at one of the tables. Best ignore that one, he thought. He'd been sneaking about 'his' land again, and he didn't seem to have a good sense of humour. The sort of person who'd go nuts if you so much as mentioned the idea of controlling animal population. Which was a shame, given the enormous Wolf he'd spotted in the area. That was going to prove quite the prize, when he had some free time. What was particularly irritating at this time in the morning, though, was the sheer business of the place. The Zizz usually sat in one of the comfy seats off in the corner somewhere, but it seemed like that area was flooded with young fools getting drunk at nine A.M., or whatever time it was. Morons! They'd probably end up dead before the day was done, he thought as he chuckled to himself slightly, though not forgetting his irritation. As a result of these morons, however, the Zizz was forced to manuever his way past quite a few patrons (not an easy task thanks to his height and tail swaying about) and clamber up on top a lone stool at the bar, somewhere he rarely ever sat. There was a good reason for this, which made itself apparent pretty soon. Ignoring the great wall that was the Ogre to his left, he rummaged about in one of his belt pockets to retrieve his prized Pipe, made of dark wood as per usual Zizz preference. Removing the little cap to stop all the pre-packed 'medicinal' herbs from falling out, he removed a match from the same pocket and attempted to strike it against the bar. No luck. He tried it again, and again, and about six more 'agains' before he could finally squeeze a little flame off it, grumbling to himself the entire time. That was another weird thing about the tavern; it always took more effort to light matches. Some sort of newfangled suppression field, perhaps, which might also explain the sheer lack of the usual bar fights he'd seen in... just about every other tavern he'd been to. Except the ones in Tarzblik, obviously. For entirely different reasons. Finally, he stuck his Pipe in his toothy mouth and lit it with the match, waving it about afterwards to turn the fire into a little smoke puff. Of course, that was nothing compared to what happened afterwards as the Zizz began to actually smoke said Pipe, releasing much bigger puffs of smoke which spread across the bar. Of course the Zizz didn't particularly care for any inconvenience this may cause, since the calming herbal sensation had him captivated. It was enough to make him grin again, in that classic terrifying fashion Zizz were known for.</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was slightly disappointed that Kat hadn't taken the mug he had offered, but she did already have one. He then heard the orge's response and even though he kept a straight face Azzrix had a vein bulging on his head. How dare this creature make his offer of help a game, if he wasn't of noble birth then he would have taken this beast's head. Even though his mind was thinking violent thoughts Azzrix still smiled at the inferior creature before him. "You're a funny one ogre, what is your name, you do have a name right?" he asked with a smile still imagining throwing a knife at him. He took sips of his mead and felt his anger calm down for a bit. He was waiting to see what kind of mission he could take to earn some money and also see if there would be a chance for him to steal from a challenging wealthy person, maybe he would also get an assassination mission. God only knows when he would get a chance to practice his assassin skills on a mission and he wondered how well the others would do on such missions. Azzrix was more interested in working with magic users, muscle was good, but he had plenty of that and anymore stealthy people would mean that he would lose the franchise, he had enough stealth. Magic on other hand he had none of and so getting a good magic user to work with him would open up a whole world of possibility and fencing magical artifacts would get him a really great amount of gold, he's heard stories about some magic guilds being loaded thanks some of them being able to make gold with their magic. Azzrix especially would love to get his hands on the alchemy formula to create gold if it existed, an infinite amount of gold would be very useful for expanding his family's influence and ambitions of his own.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Dat'd be Drubbins." The Ogre announced proudly. "Dats da name..." He quiets down, thinking back. Drubbins didn't have the best memory in the world. He remembered general things, but who's and where's and when's generally leaked out of his head between bosses. He didn't consider this a bad thing, it cleared space for all the new people he'd be putting in his head, but even he wouldn't forget a life changing encounter. "Dats da name I was givin' by Malia Burg, da Source-ress, on account a my big 'ands and what I could do wif 'em."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire listened intently to Historia as she answered her question, nodding slightly here and there. As soon as her...friend, here got her food, Claire worked up the courage to try her own. Clearly far behind Mysaren, she took a few dainty bites of her meal. Honestly she was quite hungry, but she never knew eating any other way. "It certainly is..." Claire stopped to look around the place, choosing a word for the tavern. "Warm." She finished. She regarded the large ogre, now enjoying a drink with the stoic barhand and ratman. Next was the white haired boy with animal ears. He was the source of the magic earlier...The cheery blue, working as she wanted, and another new face. A reptilian man smoking to himself at another seat..."and interesting." She continued before going back to eating. Her food was warm and quite good, not what she was used to, but she was enjoying it so far. As she ate she on and off watched her two companions. They were quite different people, but they didn't seem bad. "Thank you." She added softly, avoiding eye contact. She didn't know what exactly she was thanking them for, but it seemed right.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) The tavern was certainly getting lively. People were bustling this way and that, mingling with each other, and Kat was just about done with all this for the day. Entertaining characters aside, she was tired. Hunting in the forest all night tended to be a draining experience. Kat knew, tired as she was, any reservations she had about making smartass comments would be all but gone. And Hel could only hold her back so much. "Well," she said with an exaggerated sigh, patting Hel on his great furry head to signal it was time. "This has been a pleasure, my lord," she said to Azzrix, "but I really must be going." Hel got up so Kat could stand. It was time for a nice nap in the forest. She had a permanent room at the tavern, but if the magical mishap had been any indication for the day, it would be too rowdy here to get any rest. On their way out as they weaved through the crowd, Kat saw some people that made her reconsider. The Zizz was out and about, which usually meant a fun time. And Felan had just entered in his quiet way. He wasn't as lively, but Hel was fond enough of him. Kat just gave them both quick nods as she left. When they finally got outside, Hel almost immediately shoved her back through the door. A frantic horse, wild and riderless was thundering towards them. The snow leopard jumped in front of her, baring his fangs and hissing at the mare. The horse slid to a stop, tearing up her front legs with a screech. And then she was turning, dashing away from the two of them. Lowering his hackles, Hel relaxed his stance, while Kat just looked after the horse, eyebrow raised. It was then that she saw the horse's rider, flat on the ground. Glancing at Hel, she walked around her companion to squat next to the man. "Trouble with your horse?" she said slyly, A smirk making its way onto her face. Hel plodded up beside her and nudged him a bit with his nose, sniffing.</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske Although she didn't quite agree, Tahira smiled at the comment about Viggo's music as she sat down in the chair Margaret had offered her. The charm that the witch was referring to intrigued her, as their magic both strayed along a similar path, so she pulled back her hood far enough to expose her amber eyes so that she could see it in detail. Her senses were still upset from the earlier shock, but she could still identify the trinket's energy. She was capable of making her own enchantments, but she preferred keeping them temporary, which meant she wasn't arrayed in enchanted items unless she was going out on one of the few missions that caught her attention. In three months, she had only found a handful of jobs that interested her. Realizing she had been silent for a second longer than was comfortable, Tahira looked up from the charm. "How long have you practiced the arts?" she asked, hesitant at the personal question. However, magic users were so dynamic in skill and knowledge it was natural for her to be curious.</s>	<\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Viggo concludes his ballad and scowls for a minute at the denizens of the tavern, glancing down to find his pail of coins just as full as it had been when he began playing. He grumbles something to himself as he slings his guitar around his back, hopping off the stage and sauntering over to the bar to grab a drink, knowing that for his next song, he'd need his voice to be "well oiled". Putting down a small tower of coins harvested from his donation pail, the bard glances towards Bernard and puts on a guise of friendliness. "Bernard, you stoic son of a bitch, how about a couple of beers" he chimes with a handsome, albeit toothy grin. Assuming he gets his due alcohol, having paid the price in silver, Viggo would return to the stage, sitting down cross legged as he ploughs through the two drinks, abolishing the first in half a minute before swiftly moving onto the next. Once sufficiently drowsed by the beer, Viggo stands once more, kicking the stool backwards and out of the way. Drawing his guitar from his back once more, he adopts a wide-legged stance before he begins to pluck once more at the strings of instrument. The new song begins much like the one before, though after a few seconds the noise of his guitar shifts to become much more metallic and offensive to some ears. The powerful riffs ring out from the instrument with an energetic wave, inspiring courage and vigour in all that listen, unless of course your will is powerful enough to resist Viggo's musical charms. As the song finds its pace, Viggo begins to rock his head up and down with thumping rhythm, causing his hair to flow in time with his movements.</s>
<\|description\|>Viggo Malmsteen Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 29 Occupation: Bard Personality/Interests: Viggo is an egotistical, nihilistic, and self-destructive person who lives only for self enjoyment. Reveling in the pleasures of life he has little care for trivialities like "responsibility" or "consequences". However, despite his faults, Viggo is utterly dedicated to his music career, and has no lack of discipline when it comes to practising his guitar or vocal talents. Appearance: Viggo is a tall and lithe person, with hints of muscularity in his arms and chest. Body build: As mentioned above, he is thin, but now scrawny, and tall for a human, standing at around 6'2. Hair: Viggo's pale golden hair flows down past his chest, and is light enough to majestically billow in a soft breeze. Skin color: This bard is unremarkably pale, little else to say here. Eye/Iris color: Viggo often wears dark paint around the sockets of his eyes, but his irises are a deep blue. Height/Weight: 6'2 / 155lbs Notable Features: Viggo often wears a cologne concocted from sweet smelling herbs and flowers, giving him an aroma that masks the smell of booze that perpetually floats around him. Clothing Description: Viggo wears a black sleeveless top when indoors, and adopts a larger longsleeved cloak of a similar colour when outside. His breeches are slightly greyer, but generally match stylistically with the rest of his outfit. Equipment: Viggo's prized possession is his guitar, as it so no ordinary device. Unlike most string instruments, Viggo's guitar is modified with socketed black crystals and panels of metal that run along the body and up into the neck. When the strings are thrashed, the instrument rings out a much harsher but powerful noise (ie. the noise of an electric guitar). However, the guitar's strings can still be plucked softly to mimic the sound of a lute or traditional (acoustic) guitar. The inner workings of the instrument are known to Viggo alone. Weapon(s): Viggo, by habit, carries a small dagger with him. Powers While Viggo's skill at guitar does stem from years of practise, he rightfully sees himself as a natural, and has been proficient with musical instruments from a young age. Abilities: Viggo is human, and therefore possesses few abnormal traits. Talents: Viggo is a masterful guitarist, and according to himself, the best in the world. He is also an incredible drinker, and known to rival dwarves in the amount of alcohol he can pump into his body before needing the help of a healer. Magic: While Viggo is not a mage or wizard by any standards, his knowledge of the arcane has allowed him to blend magic into his music, as such, Viggo's playing tends to have bizarre effects on people. Depending on the tempo, melody, and theme of the song, Viggo can slowly turn a group of people against one another, or make a situation calmer by lulling everyone into a state of peace and tranquility. Certain riffs can also summon dread or pain in individuals, though the effects of the spell are quickly broken if Viggo stops playing. History: (Read Rule VI.)</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Yeah!" Drubbins shouted, more at someone making a proclamation than anything. It was good to show solidarity when you were the new boy. Despite being part of several huge victory feasts in the past, one of which had cleared an entire county of booze as raiding parties kept striking out farther and farther in an effort to acquire more, Drubbins had never discovered an amount of alcohol that would force a meeting with either of those gods. It was like there was something in the air, something that inspired blokes to bold action. If he was going to be getting drink from Da Boss than he would damn well do something to earn it. With a throaty grunt he lifted himself off the the floor, giving Azzrix two big, hearty pats as he lumbered past toward that job board that Da Boss had nodded at. He solemnly swept his eyes over it, taking in all the little papers and things. He couldn't make heads or tails of this, but he had never let that stop him before. He raised up a hand and pinched one at random between the nails of his fingers before pulling it off, then turned back around to scan the room. There would be a smart boy somewhere out there. Normally you could count on a magic boy to be very smart, but the only one who'd he'd seen do magic was that dog bloke. Drubbins had a pretty commanding view of the room with his height, but he couldn't see the dog bloke anymore. Then he looked for that blue bloke who'd pointed the boss out to him, but he wasn't in here either. He could ask Da Boss, but Da Boss seemed to expect you to be able to do this yourself and he didn't want to make a bad impression to a new Boss. He supposed he could go back and ask Azzrix, but he was a funny boy and might lie to him. That had happened to him before on a new Boss, just the expected new boy hazing. Then he spotted someone at a table in the far corner. Two blokes sharing a table, one of them wearing robes which nearly always meant he was a smart type. That wasn't the only reason, of course. There were plenty of blokes wearing robes in this tavern. No, this bloke looked like Malia Burg. His first boss. He was scared it might be Malia at first, before remembering that she and her whole tower had been blown to nothing with powerful magic. Wait, this person looked a lot like Malia so maybe they were also one of those she-blokes that Malia had told him she was. Drubbins decided that, just to be safe, he wouldn't mention the word bloke around them because that used to get Malia really steamed. He wandered up to the table with as much subtlety as his size allowed, which was none, and stood possibly too close behind Tahira to be entirely comfortable. "Scuse me." he asked tentatively, holding up the paper. "Whats dis say?"</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nodded along to Historia's response. She certainly wasn't wrong. Or at least it sounded like it, Claire had never heard of the Anemoi islands. She actually didn't know all too much about the rest of the world... After Historia it seemed to be Mysaren's turn to speak, choosing the next turn the conversation would take. As just stated, Claire didn't know that much about the world. She had no idea where they could sell precious items. Having nothing to say on the matter, she let her attention fall back out to the crowd. She eyed the ogre, the rat, the musician, the lizard. Plenty of people to see, probably from plenty of places. Claire felt small. "If you are going to go sell some things, may I...tag along?" She asked softly over to the other girl. She didn't look her way at first, but her gaze hovered over after a tiny bit. "I...am looking for something." She paused, choosing her words carefully. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but then it fell closed again. It seems the right words, were no words at all. As if to show that, she turned back to her her food and took another portion. She was easily the slowest eater of the three, her food was getting cold... "I'm from Akontosh." She added in between dainty mouthfuls. It was a large city, quite a ways away...Known for it's rich history in the arts, and for it's high rate of income. "I'm here...to look for something." She seemed amendment on letting out what 'something' was. She cut another portion of nearly charred steak. "I would appreciate it..." she commented, making reference once more to her request of accompanying the other.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale "Ah! Don't be sorry for giving me advice Miss Mysaren!" Historia told her, quickly looking up at her with a worried expression. She hopped Miss Mysaren hadn't mistaken her annoyance at the musical spell for annoyance at her. "Advice is a wonderful thing. It teaches lessons and it shows concern. I can only thank you for giving me some." Historia told her, smiling a little as she pulled down her goggles over her eyes again. Historia kind of wondered what kind of life Miss Mysaren had lead up till now for her to tell her that... "Looking to sell some things huh..." Historia continued, not dwelling on those thoughts for long. "Hmmm...Well, I've gotten to know a few merchants a little in town by doing a few delivers for them. Perhaps I could introduce you to them if that might help?" Historia suggested. She paused when Miss Claire spoke up though, surprised that Miss Claire was willing to give the name of her place of origin. Historia would try to find some information about Akontosh later. She gave Miss Claire a smile, though Historia wasn't sure if Miss Claire saw that as she was keeping her eyes on her plate. Historia also wanted to ask what Miss Claire was looking for, because perhaps she could help, but with the advice they just gave her, and the fact that Miss Claire didn't say what it was, even though she had the chance to, it was clear that she didn't feel like talking about it. "Perhaps I could show the two of you around a little? At least the commerce areas, since they're the ones I'm most familiar with at the moment. I mean, I'm not an expert of this city yet, but it would certainly be nice to walk with others." Historia told them with a smile. She had started walking more since she left home. Mostly because the skies were lonely with so few races haveing the ability to fly around. Historia let out a small laugh, "Oh dear, I just realized that you two are probably going to tell me I shouldn't go walking around with strangers now huh?"</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Marcoon Blue Moon Tavern Sess grabs her by her arm and yanks her out the door, heading toward the man that she had seen out the window earlier. She hears him yell to Bernard before they rush out the door. He is grabbing her wrist, to which Naida flushes. Normally Sess has a tendency not to touch people. Honestly, this was the first time that she had ever seen him do it. He drags her outside and stops in front of the man and... Kat. Naida frowns when she remembers that the she-demon was actually talking to the knight. Sess bows and introduces himself to the knight man before introducing her. Putting aside her feelings of slight rage and loathing toward Kat, she smiles at the knight. "Anything anyone needs at the bar, they come to me," Naida says with a big smile on her face. "So where you from, knight-boy? I haven't seen you around these parts before." Since Kat is here, Naida has lost a lot of her happy energy that she used to have in the bar. Now, her silvery wings flutter nervously, going faster than her mouth had been in the bar. She grips Sess's wrist, anchoring herself to the ground through him. She knew that if she let go, she would probably wind up hovering a few yards off the ground and she did not need that right now. She tries not to grip onto his arm too hard, but she can't help that her fingernails dig into his skin slightly.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Viggo would have ignored his chastisement from Naida, continuing on with the song until its due finish. As Viggo hits the last strum of his strings, he raises his head, sweating and thoroughly worked from his playing. With his guitar still resting at his hip he notes the additional coins in his pail, grinning happily as he grabs a small cloth and wipes beads of perspiration from his brow. Walking back to the bar he takes a bottle of beer out of his "other bucket", promptly uncapping it and drinking the contents. Now a little more than tipsy, he shoots a cursory glare at Naida, moving to give her a piece of his mind on the use of magic in his playing, though before he can take a first step she's led outside by Sess. He blows a strand of hair from his face, and loops it behind his ear, sighing in exasperation. Viggo places his fingers on the neck of his guitar, absently tapping notes without making much noise. He soon begins to walk around while practising quietly, scanning the crowd for anyone he might be able to serenade a few coins out of.</s> <\|message\|>Margaret von Eisenberg Margaret was about to say something when the charm lit up again as the hair-for-brains decided it was a good time to terrorize her hungover hearing. She felt the charm actually heat up - It might be a permanent enchantment, but the trade was that it could only absorb and neutralize limited amount of magic in the given time. Just like her liver and alcohol. "Would somebody drag this circus reject out of here? My ears are going to bleed! I swear every time this individuum makes an appearance I lose a bit of my will to live!" she shout-whispered her complaint. Her anger vented somewhat, she turned back to the mage who inquired of her skill. "Oh, quite a few years. Under various masters and from various sources. I suppose that's the defining quality of witchcraft - learning on your own and largely by doing." she shrugged at Tahira's question. "It is more reliant on resources than the magic itself, which can make it rather costly at times though." She really hoped some well paying jobs would pop up soon. Speaking of which, the ogre approached their table. Apparently it... he... didn't know the written word. "That's the menu." she answered for the other whens he got a glimpse of the paper he was holding.</s>	<\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Viggo's head slowly turns towards the direction of the criticism, finding a giant red-haired woman as the source. Clutching the neck of his guitar, Viggo strides over to Margaret with an aggressive snarl on his lips. "Hey!" he shouts curtly as he approaches, stopping a few feet away from her, his guitar now held slightly to the side. Viggo's face is fixed with an annoyance, as though he's used to dealing with people unfond of his style of music. "You have a problem with my choice of song, ma'am?" he asks with poison to his tone, his fingers independently continue to silently pluck and tap away at the strings and frets in practice. Viggo's eyes quickly flash to the ogre next to him before glancing back at Margaret, making sure that he's not about to be stomped by the giant beast of a man.</s>
<\|description\|>Viggo Malmsteen Race: Human Gender: Male Age: 29 Occupation: Bard Personality/Interests: Viggo is an egotistical, nihilistic, and self-destructive person who lives only for self enjoyment. Reveling in the pleasures of life he has little care for trivialities like "responsibility" or "consequences". However, despite his faults, Viggo is utterly dedicated to his music career, and has no lack of discipline when it comes to practising his guitar or vocal talents. Appearance: Viggo is a tall and lithe person, with hints of muscularity in his arms and chest. Body build: As mentioned above, he is thin, but now scrawny, and tall for a human, standing at around 6'2. Hair: Viggo's pale golden hair flows down past his chest, and is light enough to majestically billow in a soft breeze. Skin color: This bard is unremarkably pale, little else to say here. Eye/Iris color: Viggo often wears dark paint around the sockets of his eyes, but his irises are a deep blue. Height/Weight: 6'2 / 155lbs Notable Features: Viggo often wears a cologne concocted from sweet smelling herbs and flowers, giving him an aroma that masks the smell of booze that perpetually floats around him. Clothing Description: Viggo wears a black sleeveless top when indoors, and adopts a larger longsleeved cloak of a similar colour when outside. His breeches are slightly greyer, but generally match stylistically with the rest of his outfit. Equipment: Viggo's prized possession is his guitar, as it so no ordinary device. Unlike most string instruments, Viggo's guitar is modified with socketed black crystals and panels of metal that run along the body and up into the neck. When the strings are thrashed, the instrument rings out a much harsher but powerful noise (ie. the noise of an electric guitar). However, the guitar's strings can still be plucked softly to mimic the sound of a lute or traditional (acoustic) guitar. The inner workings of the instrument are known to Viggo alone. Weapon(s): Viggo, by habit, carries a small dagger with him. Powers While Viggo's skill at guitar does stem from years of practise, he rightfully sees himself as a natural, and has been proficient with musical instruments from a young age. Abilities: Viggo is human, and therefore possesses few abnormal traits. Talents: Viggo is a masterful guitarist, and according to himself, the best in the world. He is also an incredible drinker, and known to rival dwarves in the amount of alcohol he can pump into his body before needing the help of a healer. Magic: While Viggo is not a mage or wizard by any standards, his knowledge of the arcane has allowed him to blend magic into his music, as such, Viggo's playing tends to have bizarre effects on people. Depending on the tempo, melody, and theme of the song, Viggo can slowly turn a group of people against one another, or make a situation calmer by lulling everyone into a state of peace and tranquility. Certain riffs can also summon dread or pain in individuals, though the effects of the spell are quickly broken if Viggo stops playing. History: (Read Rule VI.)</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) It was getting rather crowded at the job board. Kat tuned out as the priest went on and on about Remnants, and she really didn't want to think of those things right now. Paying no attention to everyone around her mumbling, she glanced down at Hel. Then she looked back up, and snatched a random job the priest had just pinned to the board. This better not be some stupid missing pet assignment again… The last one the two of them had done hadn't gone particularly well. Turned out that while unusually large snow leopards were excellent hunters, they also scared the living daylights out of whatever they were looking for. Go figure. Kat looked down at the piece of paper in her hand. Staring into the Abyss. Mages, Kat scoffed to herself as she read the details over. Figures they'd come up with this pretentious name. Maybe she'd just go get the jewel for herself. Not that she was skilled in magic at all, but just from the style of the request, she had a feeling the mages deserved a good ol' kick in the face. Or something equally as spiteful. She was in a spiteful mood. She glanced back over to Hel and asked, "Wanna kill some Drakas?" Not that Kat really knew what Drakas were.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren considered Azzrix's offer, then shook her head. "No thank you," She said, "I don't want to go on an adventure with someone I just met. Thanks for the drinks though." She grabbed one of the drinks that was brought out and downed it, letting out a sigh of relief. It was a bit early to start drinking like this, but she hadn't had a nice cold drink in a while, and getting drunk did sound like a fantastic idea right now. No, she couldn't. She had too many things to do, too many reasons to stay on her guard. A few drinks never hurt anybody though... She watched everyone else in the bar, noticing some of them crowded around that jobs board. A job would never hurt. She wasn't exactly above an honest living, it was just too unrealistic for someone who spent their life traveling most of the time. There was talk of plenty of rewards for the missions, though, and if she could find a few good allies, then she'd be happy to take one on. For now, she just sat at the bar though, considering what to do while she was here, and when she should leave.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren I'm dumb.</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Priest] Priest turned his attention from the board to Naida, his smile widening. "Ah, Miss Marcoon!" He greeted cheerfully, taking a small break from hanging the requests. "It's a pleasure to see you again, and don't worry about adding your job. It helps pay for the Church, too, you know! Always a pleasure that the proceeds go to the orphanage. Poor kids..." His expression went from cheerful to melancholy in quite a short span. However, before he could continue his conversation with Naida, Rimau stole his attention. Priest listened to him with a smile on his face, taking the jokes with much patience and good humor. Priest laughed before Rimau did, extending a hand. "Well, I was an orphan and had the darkest of days, friend," Priest told him when all was said and done. "I woke up with no memory to my past and I was ignored on the streets. When all was bleak, and the storm clouds closed in, there was a light... an elderly man from the Church came to me and took me in. He taught me to read and write, to love and to see the light in this world. It was his teachings that shown me the way. Without it, I would be just as cynical as you are," Priest jested. Before Priest could get his handshake, however, a new person came to him. A tall, muscular knight seeming eager to know about Remnants. "O-oh," Priest began, his expression worrisome. "The Remnants aren't as active as they were. The past several weeks, there was nary a sight of them. I think the only job referencing them is the one involving a mysterious gem in a cave. It's infested with them, and those are the only ones found." He explained, frowning. Then another patron approached him, a beautiful woman, asking about the quest involving the mages and the gem. "I don't know much, honestly. It is the Arcane Collective, the mages' guild here in Belheim, and the gem they seek is quite rare, almost legendary. It is a jewel said to be formed from areas heavily concentrated with magical energies. However, it is being guarded by Drakas, Remnants from the continent of Shoba. I highly suggest you bring a few more people before taking the job... otherwise, their sheer numbers would overpower you." He explained, fully, concern shadowing his once-cheerful face. [Sessamaru] The half-breed waited eagerly for his food, too focused on eating to pay any attention to Priest. When Naida finally grabbed him another bowl, he began to eat it with ferocity equal to the initial dish. He finished the meal swiftly and raised the bowl again. Naida subtly suggested he do a mission and he contemplated on it. Perhaps I should... but not on an empty stomach! he thought, smiling brightly. "I think I will, Miss Naida. It has been a while since I last enjoyed the outside world." He told her, eyes shining. "But first! More food, please!"</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon NaidaBlue Moon Tavern Naida rolls her eyes as Sess asks for another bowl. She quickly dishes him some more, this time adding a little fairy dust to it so it will quell his hunger for at least a good hour, and says, "Alright, great! You and I can do a job together. I get to choose." She sets the bowl down in front of him, sticking her tongue out at him in a childish way as she does, and flits over to the job board, hovering above most of the people's heads. She notices one that looks very interesting and pulls it down off the board. Taken She reads the description quickly and flits back over to Sess, showing him the job. "How's this one? I think I know the daughter; I've seen her in here with her parents more than once." She then notices that it says that the island is on the river nearby. She smiles, delighted. It has been a long time since she has been in her mermaid form and she fears that she would die of withdrawal if she were to go any longer. "If we do this job, we need to stop by my house before we head out," she tells Sess. "Ileft my bow and arrows back there, along with a few of my knives. I hope that's alright." Her eyes scan over the paper again, curious on how much the reward is. It doesn't say, but from what she has seen from the parents, they are quite rich. She looks over at Bernard and says, "Hey, Bernard! I might be leaving a little early today." She grins at him and holds up the paper. "Gotta job to do."</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Sess swiftly continues to eat the stew, slowing down when he noticed a strange new flavor, almost like an exotic spice. The swordsman looked at the bowl, then to Naida. With a sigh and a shrug, he finished the new dish and wandered away into the kitchen. There was a commotion, a lot of yelling from the chef, and the kitchen door explodes open with Sessamaru running out of it, holding a giant pot full of the stew. "Miss Naida! Let's go!" He cried, fearing for his life whilst being chased by the chef and the other cooks. The cooks and chef began to throw objects at the fleeing Sess, who chugged the pot down while running, each object miraculously missing him. Dropping the now empty pot, the swordsman reached the door and left the tavern, leaving Naida to her own devices.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen looked hard at the priest. He shifted his gaze to the wall behind him. There were several papers attached to it. "Okay thank you," he replied curtly to the man. Other people seemed to be trying to talk to the priest so Rouen maneuvered around them to look at the board. He searched the wall with a finger for anything mentioning a cave. "A help board? Well that is a new idea," he thought looking at the variety of requests. Many of the requests seemed juvenile, like petty thievery or missing pets. They were jobs meant for squires and the local guard force. Things that were of no interest to Rouen at all. He found what the priest was talking about."A cave eh? Well hopefully I get the luck of the draw this time around," he thought. "I wouldn't be surprised if what this priest thinks a remnant is turned out to be another overgrown solitary fay creature." Rouen had searched many caves, abandoned houses, and valleys in the past nine months of travelling. Most of them were just that. Caves, abandoned houses, and valleys. Occasionally he would run into some fay creature like an ogre or harpy. Even then the majority of them were fairly harmless. None had actual Remnants. He sighed, "Well this is the only information I have so far, maybe it will actually lead me somewhere."However, as he turned around a smile grew on his face. "Back to the field," he thought happily thinking of this next part of his journey. The field was a term he used for where the action occurs. It was where battles took place, quests were completed, and history happens. Rouen didn't care if this cave turned out to be just some abandoned spookhole. He was a knight. The field, whether it be some cave, castle, forest, or a plain landscape was his duty. It was where he found his purpose. He walked toward the bar where there was an empty bowl of soup and half a mug of ale. Shuffling through his pouch he put down two silver coins. Looking at the big man who looked like the bartender Rouen said, "This should cover the stew," he said. He then put another silver coin down, "And this is for the lady. Please pass on my compliments." He turned and it looked like people in the bar seemed to be crowding over the message board. "So many people willing to help each other. This may be a fay tavern but the community seems to be healthy. It must be the human aspect," he thought. His eyes shifted to some of the more conspicuous folks. There was a woman wearing a robe made of a swirl of vibrant colors. "She must be important, I've only seen diplomats and high nobility wear such expensive gowns," he thought and couldn't help but admire her figure. He next looked at the one-armed village girl and glared. "Bah, someone will teach her manners one day. I shouldn't overreact like that again, it is beneath my station," he thought. Smile on his face, Rouen turned towards the tavern door and began to walk onto the road.</s>	<\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen After his little spat with the witch, Viggo swung by the bar, sitting down on a stool nearby his iced bucket of beer bottles. He uncorked one with his teeth and quickly consumed its contents, resting his idle hand flat on his guitars strings. Once sated, the guitarist stood again, wiping his lips with this thumb, and cast his gaze in the direction of Rouen who had been looking over the various contracts pinned to the large message board. With a huff, Viggo pushed himself off his seat and made his way over to the board to see if he could find something to do. Viggo poured over the messages, rolling his eyes at more than one. "Boo hoo, you lost a dog.. Buy a new one.." he uttered quietly while hunched forward to pour over the rest of the notices. At last, his eyes fixated on one that seemed worthy of his talents. After noting the details to memory, Viggo moved towards the bar, whistling to get Bernard's attention. "Hey, Bernie, what's the deal with this daughter situation. The island quest, with the uh, disgusting tribespeople" he would question, leaning forward onto the bar, having swung his guitar behind his back once more.</s>
<\|description\|>Naida Marcoon Race: Water Sprite (Combination of Faerie and Mermaid) Gender: Female Age: 21 Occupation: Part Time Bartender Personality/Interests: Naida is a very exuberant person. She can be fearless and brave at times and she tends to not be angry almost at all. She has a very long fuse when it comes to anger and she is very patient. She is also a very friendly person right off the bat, but she is also one of those people who is "if you hate me, I'll hate you right back". She is not afraid to speak her mind and does not seem to be afraid of anything. Appearance: She still has short white hair though Details: Body build: She is very slender, but it is mostly muscle Hair: Short and slightly wavy, but not super wavy or curly and it reaches slightly lower than her chin. She also has short side bangs. Hair color: Her hair is almost completely white, but she has some slightly blue tinges in there from her mother's bright blue hair. Skin color: She has very pale skin, but it tans fairly easily. Eye/Iris color: She has very pale blue eyes and sometimes seem white at times. Height/Weight: She is about five feet seven inches and she weighs about 60 pounds at most. She has lightweight bones so she can fly and she does not really contain any fat in her at all. Notable Features: Whenever her feet touch water, they transform into her long, silvery blue tail. When she is not in water, she has large, silvery blue wings on her back that look a little like dragonfly wings. She also has a scar on the side of her stomach where she was impaled with a harpoon because the fisherman thought she was a baby whale. (Ignore the claws in the picture. She does not have those) Clothing Description: When she is on land, she most wears a halter top white crop top that looks mostly like a bikini top. She has a flat front going across her chest and upper abdomen, but all that connects it to the back is a string. It falls just above her belly button and exposes all of her back so she can move her very thin wings. She also wears short jean shorts and knee high black boots. When she is in the water and in her mermaid form, she just has on the crop top. Equipment: She carries a small horn of water on her side and she also has medical supplies in a bag that she carries off her shoulder. She has some extra food in her pack and a seashell that she can use to call to the water if necessary. Weapon(s): Knives, bow and arrows Powers: Telepathy: She has the ability to talk to anything with her mind, whether it would be fish in the sea or people on land, or even animals on land. Aura Sight: Auras are the hazy color around people or creatures that tells what mood they are at some times. She can see those. Abilities: Flight (obviously): She is able to use her wings to fly to any height that she would like and any length that she would like. Fast Swimmer: Because she grew up so much in the water, she has adapted to be able to swim fast, both in her mermaid form and faerie form. Accelerated Healing When In Water: When she is in the water, her wounds heal faster. Talents: She can play almost any instrument that is set down in front of her, she can make any drink within a few minutes, and she is very acrobatic. Very good with a throwing knife and aim with bow and arrows. Magic: Water Magic Water Manipulation: The ability to create water into any shape. Also the ability to move water Water Temperature Control: In short, she can make water any temperature that she would like by doing a specific hand motion Gather Water From The Air: Exactly as it sounds And so on. Anything that has to do with water, she can probably do it. Sessamaru: "Oh, that kid? Oh, lovely fellow, nice. Seems slightly naïve, but seems to know where he's going." Historia Saurvale: "Yeah, the very formal chick. She is always ordering very formally, rather than yelling 'Yo! Bring me a beer!' Yeah, I think her better than those others who yell that." Saha Thulaja Era: "She is very… protective and hard shelled. Slightly pushy… She's alright, I guess." Katelia: "Oh, that annoying manipulative girl! Honestly, if I had to, I try my best not to serve her and get the other waitress to do it." Julio: laughs "Oh the pessimist. He's a quiet one and not too bad. He's alright for a customer, though he's kind of a downer…" Azzrix Grimmor: "Very, very full of himself. I don't exactly like serving his kind, but since he's as good as a thief he thinks he is, he is a very good tipper, which makes me like him." Margaret von Eisenberg: "Greedy, greedy, greedy! I'm always on my feet with her. I never get a rest." Drubbins: "Oh, that funny little ogre! I like him a lot. He's what makes my paycheck so big." Mysaren: "She is very… fake kind of. She also seems very shy. I've tried to make her come out of her shell." Tahira Raske: "Very intelligent and loyal. I like her a lot." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Such a long name! Very, very lazy though. Does not come up to the bar to get his drink, I have to deliver it." Claire Alexandria: "I like her a lot! Seems very nice. Not the most outspoken person in the world." Viggo Malmsteen: "Don't care for him. Kind of a self-centered jerk." Rouen Fulgur: "Seems very loyal. Very focused on merit and loyalty. I like him." Felan the Wolf: "I like him. He seems very nice. But I always have to keep him away from the dwarves…"</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale "You're welcome." Historia told Miss Claire with a smile, though she wasn't quite sure what she was thanking her for? For answering her question was the most likely reason Historia could come up with. As Historia started to eat though, she noticed that Miss Mysaren seemed...well hungry for one thing. She was glad that Miss Mysaren was able to get a meal. But she also seemed, nervous? Scared? A bit of both? Well, that whole commotion with the energy, getting hit with Historia's wings, among the many other exciting things that had happened were probably the cause of it. Historia decided that she had to do something to take her mind off of that. "Um..." Historia said between bites. "My last name is Saurvale. I'm from the floating islands of Anemoi."She paused, taking another bite and trying to figure out what else to say. "I'm currently saving up money to start traveling again. I kind of ran out when I got to this city. In fact, the first day I arrived, I got pickpocketed, which is always wonderful to find out." Historia said with sarcasm before coughing some with the smoke. She waved her hand in front of her face to clear some of the smoke away before continuing. "I found myself in this Tavern, hoping to buy some food. Thankfully, even though I didn't have money, someone was kind enough to pay for my meal. I hope to find the kind patron and pay them back before I leave, though I don't know when that'll be." Historia finished with a smile before shifting her attention to the stage. "The bard is certainly getting more energetic with his tunes isn't he?" She added after a few moments of listening to the song.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren eyed Historia as she spoke, downing her own drink and sighing. Kid was sharing a lot of information to someone she just met. She heard the racket of the band behind her and rolled her eyes, starting to rub her temples. She was going to need a couple more drinks for this. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Mysaren. I was born somewhere and did a lot of things. It's not wise to start spouting life stories to people, kid. People will use it against you, you know. Hopes and dreams." She had done it before, and she didn't like it, not one bit. She shrugged, looking down her cup to see if she had anything left. Nothing. She pushed her plate and cup to the side and spun around, leaning back on the bar. She knew about body language, and if she was going to last a minute in this place, then she would have to look confident. She noticed that the orc, maybe an ogre, was talking to some rat fellow and another man over somewhere else. There was also a lizard guy sitting next to her, blowing smoke all over the bar, smoke that made her feel a bit... weird. She swiped the smoke away with her hand and watched the rest of the bar carefully.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen was laying on the ground. Eyes closed in pain, he sat up and rubbed his head. He felt something nudge him in the side. "No trouble. Although this fault would be mine," he replied and opened an eye towards the stranger. He was greeted with the sight of a large, very large pale cat. "What th-!" he yelled as his face immediately reflected panic and he instinctively jumped away from the predator. His right hand immediately moved to the hilt of the sword on his back. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the figure of a woman. She was dressed in hunting garments typical leather boots, brown pants, and a green garment. The shock in his face was visible as he saw her missing arm."Fabric looks rather plain, probably some local village peasant girl," he thought. Rouen shifed his attention back onto the cat who didn't seem to be in too much of a threatening posture. He moved his hand away from the hilt of his sword and back down. "Um, that creature wouldn't be yours would it villager?" he asked.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat just stared at him, eyebrow raised, as the stranger's face went through the typical set of expressions people made when faced with her and Hel for the first time. Panic, to shock, to confusion. Yup. Every time. Hel gave a little growl when the man reached for his sword, but he backed off soon enough as he finally began to understand the situation. The stranger then began to look her over, evaluating, and Kat did the same. He was dirty and unshaven, but still clearly someone with some important title – the massive pauldron he wore on his shoulder and the blade he carried spoke to that. So some knight, then. He certainly looked the part under all that grime… he was so big that if he hugged someone, he'd probably squeeze the life right out of them. It's no wonder the horse threw him off, Kat snarked to herself. Poor beast was probably protesting all this weight. She blinked then at his next choice of words. Villager. It'd been a very long time since Kat had belonged to any village. Hel once again raised his hackles at the knight when he called the snow leopard a pet, and Kat just smirked, brushing her fingers through his fur to calm him. "You don't bite him, he won't bite back," she said as an answer. Pushing herself up, she brushed her hand on her pants and looked down at him. Hel took a step in front of her, putting his shoulders between the girl and the knight. Apparently, he was still a bit sore at being called a 'pet.' Some song was playing in the tavern that Kat really didn't care for, but for some reason or other, she was feeling less tired as she stretched her neck. Perhaps a nap in the woods wasn't so necessary after all. "Your horse is long gone, by the way. Probably still running for its life." She eyed him again, lingering on the metal pauldron and oversized sword. Really, oversized was a good word to summarize him as a whole. Have fun lugging yourself to the closest horse trader.</s>	<\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern "Oh, right..." she says in response to Sessamaru's answer to her previous question. She then notices Felan walk in and she smiles. "Give me one more minute, Sess." She flits over to Felan and says, "Usual, right?" She does not wait for an answer. Instead, she flies over to the cook herself and calls for Felan's usual. She then sits at the counter and waits for a few minutes, taking drink orders at the bar, the ones that the thief so loving bought for everyone. She quickly fills their orders and then looks back to see the cook is done with Felan's order. She quickly grabs it, passes out the rest of the drinks, and flies quickly back over to Felan and sets the plate down in front of him. "Here you go, darling!" she says with a gracious smile on her face. She then notices music playing for the first and she looks over to see Viggo. She sighs and rolls her eyes, walking over to him. "Hey, Viggo! What have we told you about casting spells on paying customers?" Naida yells, looking at the musician. She has not been affected by the spell because she is so used to him casting it. Also, her mermaid/faerie background makes it hard for spells to be cast on her. "You can keep playing, but take the spell off, mate. We don't need a riot just in case that spell goes wrong." She rolls her eyes at the guy again, but she flits quickly back over to the counter, grabs him a few more beers, and sets them down next to him, hoping that he won't order anymore afterwards. If this guy got drunk... Naida shakes her head and flies back over to Sessamaru, landing lightly next to him. "Do you think that will get him to stop casting spells on customers?" she asks him with a sigh. She runs a hand over her face and says, "I don't know why he does it. He should be able to get money on his own. This tavern isn't the only place in the realm to get money. Also, casting a spell on drunk people..." She grits her teeth and shakes her head before she grins at Sessamaru. She looks out the window and sees Kat talking to a knight-looking person, one that she hasn't seen around very often. She nudges Sess and asks, "Who's that?"</s>
<\|description\|>Naida Marcoon Race: Water Sprite (Combination of Faerie and Mermaid) Gender: Female Age: 21 Occupation: Part Time Bartender Personality/Interests: Naida is a very exuberant person. She can be fearless and brave at times and she tends to not be angry almost at all. She has a very long fuse when it comes to anger and she is very patient. She is also a very friendly person right off the bat, but she is also one of those people who is "if you hate me, I'll hate you right back". She is not afraid to speak her mind and does not seem to be afraid of anything. Appearance: She still has short white hair though Details: Body build: She is very slender, but it is mostly muscle Hair: Short and slightly wavy, but not super wavy or curly and it reaches slightly lower than her chin. She also has short side bangs. Hair color: Her hair is almost completely white, but she has some slightly blue tinges in there from her mother's bright blue hair. Skin color: She has very pale skin, but it tans fairly easily. Eye/Iris color: She has very pale blue eyes and sometimes seem white at times. Height/Weight: She is about five feet seven inches and she weighs about 60 pounds at most. She has lightweight bones so she can fly and she does not really contain any fat in her at all. Notable Features: Whenever her feet touch water, they transform into her long, silvery blue tail. When she is not in water, she has large, silvery blue wings on her back that look a little like dragonfly wings. She also has a scar on the side of her stomach where she was impaled with a harpoon because the fisherman thought she was a baby whale. (Ignore the claws in the picture. She does not have those) Clothing Description: When she is on land, she most wears a halter top white crop top that looks mostly like a bikini top. She has a flat front going across her chest and upper abdomen, but all that connects it to the back is a string. It falls just above her belly button and exposes all of her back so she can move her very thin wings. She also wears short jean shorts and knee high black boots. When she is in the water and in her mermaid form, she just has on the crop top. Equipment: She carries a small horn of water on her side and she also has medical supplies in a bag that she carries off her shoulder. She has some extra food in her pack and a seashell that she can use to call to the water if necessary. Weapon(s): Knives, bow and arrows Powers: Telepathy: She has the ability to talk to anything with her mind, whether it would be fish in the sea or people on land, or even animals on land. Aura Sight: Auras are the hazy color around people or creatures that tells what mood they are at some times. She can see those. Abilities: Flight (obviously): She is able to use her wings to fly to any height that she would like and any length that she would like. Fast Swimmer: Because she grew up so much in the water, she has adapted to be able to swim fast, both in her mermaid form and faerie form. Accelerated Healing When In Water: When she is in the water, her wounds heal faster. Talents: She can play almost any instrument that is set down in front of her, she can make any drink within a few minutes, and she is very acrobatic. Very good with a throwing knife and aim with bow and arrows. Magic: Water Magic Water Manipulation: The ability to create water into any shape. Also the ability to move water Water Temperature Control: In short, she can make water any temperature that she would like by doing a specific hand motion Gather Water From The Air: Exactly as it sounds And so on. Anything that has to do with water, she can probably do it. Sessamaru: "Oh, that kid? Oh, lovely fellow, nice. Seems slightly naïve, but seems to know where he's going." Historia Saurvale: "Yeah, the very formal chick. She is always ordering very formally, rather than yelling 'Yo! Bring me a beer!' Yeah, I think her better than those others who yell that." Saha Thulaja Era: "She is very… protective and hard shelled. Slightly pushy… She's alright, I guess." Katelia: "Oh, that annoying manipulative girl! Honestly, if I had to, I try my best not to serve her and get the other waitress to do it." Julio: laughs "Oh the pessimist. He's a quiet one and not too bad. He's alright for a customer, though he's kind of a downer…" Azzrix Grimmor: "Very, very full of himself. I don't exactly like serving his kind, but since he's as good as a thief he thinks he is, he is a very good tipper, which makes me like him." Margaret von Eisenberg: "Greedy, greedy, greedy! I'm always on my feet with her. I never get a rest." Drubbins: "Oh, that funny little ogre! I like him a lot. He's what makes my paycheck so big." Mysaren: "She is very… fake kind of. She also seems very shy. I've tried to make her come out of her shell." Tahira Raske: "Very intelligent and loyal. I like her a lot." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Such a long name! Very, very lazy though. Does not come up to the bar to get his drink, I have to deliver it." Claire Alexandria: "I like her a lot! Seems very nice. Not the most outspoken person in the world." Viggo Malmsteen: "Don't care for him. Kind of a self-centered jerk." Rouen Fulgur: "Seems very loyal. Very focused on merit and loyalty. I like him." Felan the Wolf: "I like him. He seems very nice. But I always have to keep him away from the dwarves…"</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Rupert] Rupert hopped around for a good while until Naida came by with a ball of ice wrapped in a towel. However, when she handed it to the old man, he was too unfocused to keep a hold of the item, causing it to fall onto his other foot. "Yow!" He cried, slamming his other foot down and raising the other one to hold. However, his face lit up like a flame and he dropped the other foot to grasp the other, continuing this as he cried and cursed. This continued for a good while, causing Rupert to hop around the entire bar switching feet as he hopped around. [Sessamaru] The half-breed looked at Naida as she helped him hold the ball of ice over his stomach as she help raised him to his feet, and he smiled, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. "Indeed, Miss Naida," he told her, laughing. "I feel bad for Mister Rupert, though. He will not get to enjoy his drink for a good while." Sessamaru stood up right and placed the ice-towel onto the bar, scratching the back of his head; an unorthodox habit of his. "Honestly though, I am quite fine. Nothing more than a bit of shock." He explained, his smile becoming a wide grin. However, the moment the sentence ended, his stomach let out a ferocious growl, reminiscent of a jungle cat! The half-breed bent forward, holding his stomach. "Except that," he groaned. "Miss Naida, may I have some food, please?" Sess asked, his stomach once again growling with hunger. This ground made the fox-eared youth sink to the floor. Already he could smell the food in the kitchen, causing yet another roar from his stomach. "Ugh..." he moaned, attempting to crawl his way up a stool. "Fooooooood..."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "...Y'sure 'bout that, mister?" Rimau asked, quizically turning his eyes upward as if to actually look quite worried about his Sheep. Of course it wasn't really that bad; there's lots more Sheep in the world. "...Okay, if y'say so. I do believe we live in a... 'democracy' 'ere." He said, recognising the man's choice as an adult, but at the same time making an 'inverted commas' gesture when he said 'democracy'; something of a foreign and kind of silly concept to the old Zizz. "Jus' remember, if that big-ass canid starts a lil' bloodbath at y'pasture, you come an' see me." The Zizz concluded with confidence that this would not be the last Felan heard about this, taking another puff into Felan's big, humourless face before he pulled his chair away, clambering back to the floor. "'Ave a superb day, mister." Soon after that was over with, he found himself turning back to witness that other old guy at the bar, the one that always complained about literally everything. Seemed like he was doing some kind of ritual dance, going 'wowowowow' like some kind a... he didn't even know what. "What in Gekko's name... pffffftthehehehe!" He muttered in response, causing him to clinch his gut in his stifled laughter as he walked over to the bar again, coughing as he approached another barstool. Clambering back up to the bar, he noticed the Rodent was still there, still making himself look like a fool, it seemed. Even better, Naida had returned, though she was still talking with that dog-eared kid. "'Ey, Naida, m'lady, y'back!" He said pleasantly, putting on his toothy grin again. "Terribly sorry for the ramblin' again, but I still 'aven't 'ad m'juice. But no rush. By th'way, what in th'ell was up w'that dumb-ass back there, the one with th'big-ass compensator sword?" He asked, pointing towards said dumb-ass, who for some reason was still standing even after the crazy cat lady had yelled at him. From what he had gathered, when the crazy cat lady got mad, she tended to hurt people. Then again... newfangled suppression field.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) "Tch." Damn right the brat should keep to herself. Now Kat was just a bundle of aggravation and nerves with no way to relieve it all. Suddenly, she grabbed a knife from her belt, and her arm shot forward, knife flying through the air. The blade embedded itself several inches deep into the adjacent tavern wall. She doubted Bernard would be pleased, but she was too caught up in her own emotions to care at the moment. Besides, Bernie was never pleased – not that Kat could tell, at least. Hel started a bit when Kat took out her aggravations on the wall, and looked back at her. With no more threats to deal with, he turned his full attention back to her, nudging her leg with a paw and resting his large head on her lap, making small noises in the back of his throat. Kat ran a hand over her face and heaved a sigh. "Yeah, I know," she said in a low voice. This was ridiculous. She shouldn't have been this worked up. She gave him a pat on the head and then pulled a small copper coin out of her pocket. Still buzzing with energy, she balanced the coin on the back of her first finger and began turning it over from one finger to the next, back and forth.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen frowned as the inn-keep Naida attempted to help the two men. He watched the older man step on his other foot with his injured foot and hop around. "Well with old age comes clumsiness," he thought. The fox-eared man grumbled his way up towards the stool. "Fooooooood..." he moaned. "Well, it doesn't look like they need help. This really has to be one of the strangest inns I have ever been in, I wonder wh-," he thought and a glance around made him realize something. The winged girl, the fox ears, the white hair, the one-handed village-girl with the cat that was more predator than pet. Now he realized that there was a bipedal lizard and a furry-blue humanoid. "Ugh, a fay tavern," he thought and a light look of disgust grew on his face. "Well, it isn't like I have a choice I better get used to this," he thought. He took a seat in one of the empty bar stools. "May I have some stew as well?" he asked Naida.</s>	<\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern Naida rolls her eyes as Sessamaru begins to beg for food. And, to make it even better, the knight guy now asks for food. She sighs and hurries back to the kitchen, calling for two Potato Nut stews. She sweeps into the back kitchen, her wings fluttering, as she helps prepare the meals, but before she can do much, the cook kicks her back out to go make drinks. The water sprite growls at him, mad that she can't help, but she complies and walks back out to the bar. Naida grabs Rouen's untouched Fey Buster drink and sets it in front of him. "Here you go, mate," she says. She is about to walk away to get Sess a drink when she pauses and turns back around. She looks at him carefully and says, "Drink that slowly, mate. Don't want to see you running naked down the street because you drank something too fast." She smirks and proceeds to pour Sessamaru's favorite drink. She slides it down the bar and it stops directly in front of him. The cook then rings for her with the soups and she flits over to the kitchen, now hovering a couple feet off the ground. She takes the plates in her hands and flutters back over to them, setting the stew down in front of them. She grabs some salt and sprinkles it over the top of them, smiling at Rouen and Sessamaru. She turns to Sess and says, "Here, eat up. Want to keep your strength up before that old bag comes back and beats the life out of ya." She smiles at Rouen before she hears that Rimau is addressing her. She turns to look at him and smiles. "Oh, hey, Rimau! This is just a new customer," she says with a big smile. "I didn't see you walk down, my scaly friend. I'll get you that juice right away." She quickly grabs the couple drinks from under the bar and mixes them together, adding a very small pinch of fairy dust to it so Rimau could wake up a little more. She passes the juice down the bar, sliding it toward the scaly man and says, "There you go, bud! Don't drink it too fast." She grins at him before turning back to Sess and Rouen.</s>
<\|description\|>Felan the Wolf Race: Skin-changer (based off of Tolkien fiction) Gender: Male Age: 35 Occupation: A simple sheep herder Personality/Interests: While usually gentle, Felan can be fierce if not given the respect he deserves. Like any creature of the forest, Felan must be respected in order for respect to be returned. He's loyal to those he calls friends, and generally mild mannered, but should one forget who he is, he's quick to remind them. Felan is very respectful of nature and her creatures. He only uses what he needs, and what he takes, he uses completely. Although he does have to kill animals to survive, he never considers hunting a great victory. It's simply something he has to do to live. He tends to get all sour when he sees others disrespecting these principals. Outside of his turf, he'll just tolerate it, but on his land, it is unacceptable. He doesn't care much for dwarves, seeing them as greedy creatures who do not respect the earth they mine. His feelings towards humans are kind of on the fence; while he's met very good ones, he's met bad ones as well. He's on pretty good terms with elfin folk, even if he thinks they're a bit stuck up. Magic-baring folk, he's a bit uneasy around. But he's willing to accept them. He absolutely hates goblins and ogres, usually killing them on sight if they intrude on his land. All other races of the land fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Appearance Details Felan is a big man. In his human form, he has copious amounts of hair. The hair on his head is long and black, his beard often grown out. On his back, it grows in a narrow mane that runs down his spine to his tailbone. The rest of his body is covered like that of an average man's, if not a bit thicker. It's smoother and softer than typical male human body hair, almost like fur. Body build: Tall and muscular Hair: Everywhere Hair color: Black Skin color: Caucasian, tanned by the sun. Eye/Iris color: Brown Height/Weight: A towering 6'8"/ 250 Notable Features: Scars litter his body from various spats with intruders Clothing Description: He's a man that clearly doesn't give much thought to his looks. Living alone and not knowing how to sew, his clothes tend to get a bit raggy. He often wears wool pants in various earth tones, and vests made of animal hide. May or may not be found wearing an actual shirt. Probably not. He doesn't get cold easily like your typical human, and since his shifting destroys it, clothing is typically light. Shoes are always forgotten. Equipment: He doesn't carry much Weapon: None Powers: Like every member of his species, he has the ability to take the form of a large, powerful animal whenever he chooses. His form is a great, black wolf with brown eyes. In this form, he stands 5 feet at the shoulder, with strength that surpasses your typical canine. Abilities: Can commune with canines, regardless of his form. Has acute senses. Feels a special connection with animals of any species. Talents: He's shown excellent farming skills. He's very good with his hands, having built his house with his own. Other: He lives on a homestead a few miles outside of town. There, he raises sheep who are said to have the silkiest wool in the country. He's quite popular with the merchants when he comes into town to sell it. The townspeople regard him as a strange hermit, but appreciate him for running off goblin raiders nevertheless. He lives alone, save for his animals. He has a few horses and ponies, quite a few sheep, birds that seem to just hang around, and a whole pack of dogs and wolves of every shape and size. All of whom wander his property and/or his house. Sessamaru: "Has a young and refreshing view on the world." Felan could get along well with him. Historia Saurvale: "A bit childish, but not a bad person." Saha Thulaja Era: "I get a bad vibe from this one." Probably won't get along too well. Katelia: "Not terribly sociable." She seems to be pretty decent to him, but he's still a little on the fence. Still, she's never done anything to make him hate her. Julio: "Seems nice enough." Azzrix Grimmor: "Kind of a shifty little fellow." He's not sure about this one. Margaret von Eisenberg: He's not fond of magic, and not fond of greed. She will probably rub him the wrong way. Naida Marcoon: "That's the nice girl that serves me my favorite ale every week." Drubbins: "I don't like ogres." Mysaren: "She seems nice. Haven't seen her around here before." Tahira Raske: "She seems nice, for a mage anyway." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Wish he'd stay off my damn land." Claire Alexandria: He doesn't really know what to think of her, but she hasn't offended him personally. Viggo Malmsteen: "Nice voice, awful person." Rouen Fulgur: "Pompous asshole."</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix heard several people give a cheer when he said that he would buy free drinks for everyone and he smiled. This made his ego rise a bit and he felt like the center of the tavern right now. Once he got his large mug of mead Azzrix heard Kat mention him and like the messenger god he went over to her with another mug of mead to share. "Did I hear my name uttered? Hello, your name is Katelia isn't it? I would assume that you know who I am by how you just spoke my name, but do you really know who I am?" asked her as he held out the extra mug for her to take it. He then noticed the ogre and whistled a bit at the sight of such a being. "You're a big one, hello my large friend. My name is Azzrix Grimmor, I am a glorious noble by day and a mysterious phantom by night. I stand before you as friend and speak the truth that friendship with a member of the noble Grimmor family is worth more than ten mountains of gold. My deeds though in shadows are above all in skill outside of my family and you will not find one as talented as I in any land. If it is a boss you're looking for then I am the one" Azzrix said to the ogre with a grin.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat pouted a little when her attempt at entertaining herself fell flat. Hel just huffed and flicked her in the face with his tail. Leave it to Naida to spoil her fun. Guess the big lug's not as dumb as he looks, she thought to herself. Still pretty dumb, she amended at seeing him practically throw himself at Bernard's feet. Old Rupert was kicking up a fuss over magic again (something to do with Sess and Naida, of course) but that's not what took Kat by surprise. No, instead it was the fact that in front of her stood the very rat she'd attempted to make mischief on, noble and proud like a champion home from war and holding a drink out to her. Kat just exchanged a look with Hel, eyebrow raised. The snow leopard's ears twitched in a sign of amusement. This is what you get. Turning back to Azzrix, Kat opened her mouth to say the first thing that popped into her mind (Your name is actually Sir Rat, the Inexterminable?) when Hel lifted his head and dropped its significant weight onto her lap, pinning her down to the seat. To anyone else it would just look like an act of affection from a lazy cat, but she knew the warning for what it was: Don't start any shit. So instead, Kat shut her mouth into a closed-lip smile and tilted her head in a mock display of friendliness. Though Hel was preoccupied making sure his charge didn't do anything idiotic, he still watched the newcomer with his silver eyes, always wary. "Already got myself a drink on your behalf," she said, holding up her tankard. "Thanks." Gods above and below, this guy was for real, wasn't he? The corners of her mouth twitched up at the way he oh so gallantly introduced himself, calling himself the 'boss' to the ogre who'd just rebuffed him. Maybe there was still fun to be had.</s>	<\|message\|>Felan the Wolf The sun peeked in past the wooden shutters of a cozy home. The house wasn't too big, but it didn't need to be. A fireplace smoldered on one end of the large, single room. A hand crafted table sat by the window, two slightly larger than normal chairs tucked in under it. The floor was dirt, swept and kept uniform. Several piles of pelts were nestled into various corners, with dogs sprawled across them lazily. A bed sat on the other end of the room, made of strong wood and cushioned with a mattress stuffed with feather and fleece. A couple blankets made up of various animal pelts covered the large man that slumbered there. A few more dogs had made themselves at home, one across his legs and one curled up at his back. The door of the house was left cracked open, fear of intruders not even a thought. Who would trifle with such a sizable resident and his many hounds? However, the heavy wooden door creaked open as someone dared to enter the home. Soft footfalls patted across the dirt floor, approaching the bed where the man slept. A soft, fuzzy white nose pressed into one of his large shoulders, exposed by the slipping blanket. The man grumbled and shifted, encouraging another poke. He blinked awake to look into the shiny black eyes of a young lamb, curious and eager for morning treats. It gave a soft bleat. A sleepy smile spread across the man's face as he reached out a massive hand to caress the lamb's head, fingers scratching under it's chin. "Good morning to you too, little girl," He said, voice gruff with sleep. The man slowly sat up, the excited lamb bleating and scampering back outside. One of the two dogs that laid on the bed lifted its head to watch. The man stood and began going about his morning routine. He pulled on some clothes: a pair of brown wool pants and a soft leather vest, trimmed with sheepskin. A couple of the canines in his home followed him around as he checked on the livestock. Some were not dogs at all, but wild wolves who had made themselves at home there. They seemed to enjoy the man's company; and as long as they didn't harm his sheep or livestock, they were welcomed to stay. The farmer hauled a few bales of hay out to his fields, dividing it among the sheep, goats, donkeys, and equines. He dug handfuls of seeds from a barrel to toss onto the ground for his chickens, exchanging them for a basket full of fresh eggs. The eggs were almost immediately turned into breakfast. Between the man and whatever begging hound was lucky enough to win his pity, they were mostly devoured. As the morning went on, the chores did not end. The firewood was chopped, the horses were groomed, hooves were trimmed, goats were shaved, and sheep were sheared. Of all the sheep in land, the ones on this farm seemed to yield the finest wool. The rate at which it grew was almost alarming. Between being spoiled by their shepherd, and never having to worry about a wolf attacking them, they were perhaps the happiest sheep as well. The goats grew soft coats of cashmere that needed shaving about once every four months. It could be made into soft clothing or blankets, easily dyed any sort of color. The upper class seemed to enjoy wearing it. Mostly because they could afford it. Once the animals were cared for, the garden came next. Fruits and vegetables were picked from the vines and taken into the house. The man himself didn't care much for food grown from the ground. Most of it was to feed his livestock. The lambs trailed after him eagerly as he walked into his home and dumped his pickings onto his counter. After having a few tiny hoofed feet jump up on his legs, the farmer finally caved and handed down a chopped apple. As the sun grew higher into the sky, the fleece and cashmere cut from the morning were bagged up into burlap sacks. With the aid of one of his donkeys, the man headed off towards the town with his load. ======================== It didn't take long to sell off his stock. The town's merchants always kept an eye out for the large man, whose head poked up above most others. When they saw his donkey carrying sacks, they would approach him with all ranges of offers. They would buy his fleece and process it, then sell it for twice the amount. The farmer knew good and well that he could make more profit if he really wanted to, but what use did he have for so much money? He took the pay he had and went down the road to his favorite tavern. It was an old tradition to come into town about once a week and enjoy the company of other people for a change. The man patted his donkey on the head as he tossed the loose sacks over it's back, sending it off to find its way home. For a beast of burden, it was incredibly smart. All of his creatures seemed to be. The man ducked his head as he stepped inside the tavern, his bare feet padding softly as he walked across the old wood floor to find a seat. It was a bit busy today, with faces that were both familiar and strange. The man sat himself down at one of the tables and waited for the nice young woman that worked here to bring him his usual.</s>
<\|description\|>Felan the Wolf Race: Skin-changer (based off of Tolkien fiction) Gender: Male Age: 35 Occupation: A simple sheep herder Personality/Interests: While usually gentle, Felan can be fierce if not given the respect he deserves. Like any creature of the forest, Felan must be respected in order for respect to be returned. He's loyal to those he calls friends, and generally mild mannered, but should one forget who he is, he's quick to remind them. Felan is very respectful of nature and her creatures. He only uses what he needs, and what he takes, he uses completely. Although he does have to kill animals to survive, he never considers hunting a great victory. It's simply something he has to do to live. He tends to get all sour when he sees others disrespecting these principals. Outside of his turf, he'll just tolerate it, but on his land, it is unacceptable. He doesn't care much for dwarves, seeing them as greedy creatures who do not respect the earth they mine. His feelings towards humans are kind of on the fence; while he's met very good ones, he's met bad ones as well. He's on pretty good terms with elfin folk, even if he thinks they're a bit stuck up. Magic-baring folk, he's a bit uneasy around. But he's willing to accept them. He absolutely hates goblins and ogres, usually killing them on sight if they intrude on his land. All other races of the land fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Appearance Details Felan is a big man. In his human form, he has copious amounts of hair. The hair on his head is long and black, his beard often grown out. On his back, it grows in a narrow mane that runs down his spine to his tailbone. The rest of his body is covered like that of an average man's, if not a bit thicker. It's smoother and softer than typical male human body hair, almost like fur. Body build: Tall and muscular Hair: Everywhere Hair color: Black Skin color: Caucasian, tanned by the sun. Eye/Iris color: Brown Height/Weight: A towering 6'8"/ 250 Notable Features: Scars litter his body from various spats with intruders Clothing Description: He's a man that clearly doesn't give much thought to his looks. Living alone and not knowing how to sew, his clothes tend to get a bit raggy. He often wears wool pants in various earth tones, and vests made of animal hide. May or may not be found wearing an actual shirt. Probably not. He doesn't get cold easily like your typical human, and since his shifting destroys it, clothing is typically light. Shoes are always forgotten. Equipment: He doesn't carry much Weapon: None Powers: Like every member of his species, he has the ability to take the form of a large, powerful animal whenever he chooses. His form is a great, black wolf with brown eyes. In this form, he stands 5 feet at the shoulder, with strength that surpasses your typical canine. Abilities: Can commune with canines, regardless of his form. Has acute senses. Feels a special connection with animals of any species. Talents: He's shown excellent farming skills. He's very good with his hands, having built his house with his own. Other: He lives on a homestead a few miles outside of town. There, he raises sheep who are said to have the silkiest wool in the country. He's quite popular with the merchants when he comes into town to sell it. The townspeople regard him as a strange hermit, but appreciate him for running off goblin raiders nevertheless. He lives alone, save for his animals. He has a few horses and ponies, quite a few sheep, birds that seem to just hang around, and a whole pack of dogs and wolves of every shape and size. All of whom wander his property and/or his house. Sessamaru: "Has a young and refreshing view on the world." Felan could get along well with him. Historia Saurvale: "A bit childish, but not a bad person." Saha Thulaja Era: "I get a bad vibe from this one." Probably won't get along too well. Katelia: "Not terribly sociable." She seems to be pretty decent to him, but he's still a little on the fence. Still, she's never done anything to make him hate her. Julio: "Seems nice enough." Azzrix Grimmor: "Kind of a shifty little fellow." He's not sure about this one. Margaret von Eisenberg: He's not fond of magic, and not fond of greed. She will probably rub him the wrong way. Naida Marcoon: "That's the nice girl that serves me my favorite ale every week." Drubbins: "I don't like ogres." Mysaren: "She seems nice. Haven't seen her around here before." Tahira Raske: "She seems nice, for a mage anyway." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Wish he'd stay off my damn land." Claire Alexandria: He doesn't really know what to think of her, but she hasn't offended him personally. Viggo Malmsteen: "Nice voice, awful person." Rouen Fulgur: "Pompous asshole."</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern "Oh, right..." she says in response to Sessamaru's answer to her previous question. She then notices Felan walk in and she smiles. "Give me one more minute, Sess." She flits over to Felan and says, "Usual, right?" She does not wait for an answer. Instead, she flies over to the cook herself and calls for Felan's usual. She then sits at the counter and waits for a few minutes, taking drink orders at the bar, the ones that the thief so loving bought for everyone. She quickly fills their orders and then looks back to see the cook is done with Felan's order. She quickly grabs it, passes out the rest of the drinks, and flies quickly back over to Felan and sets the plate down in front of him. "Here you go, darling!" she says with a gracious smile on her face. She then notices music playing for the first and she looks over to see Viggo. She sighs and rolls her eyes, walking over to him. "Hey, Viggo! What have we told you about casting spells on paying customers?" Naida yells, looking at the musician. She has not been affected by the spell because she is so used to him casting it. Also, her mermaid/faerie background makes it hard for spells to be cast on her. "You can keep playing, but take the spell off, mate. We don't need a riot just in case that spell goes wrong." She rolls her eyes at the guy again, but she flits quickly back over to the counter, grabs him a few more beers, and sets them down next to him, hoping that he won't order anymore afterwards. If this guy got drunk... Naida shakes her head and flies back over to Sessamaru, landing lightly next to him. "Do you think that will get him to stop casting spells on customers?" she asks him with a sigh. She runs a hand over her face and says, "I don't know why he does it. He should be able to get money on his own. This tavern isn't the only place in the realm to get money. Also, casting a spell on drunk people..." She grits her teeth and shakes her head before she grins at Sessamaru. She looks out the window and sees Kat talking to a knight-looking person, one that she hasn't seen around very often. She nudges Sess and asks, "Who's that?"</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Goddamn, that racket..." the old Zizz mumbled to himself some more as he let the herbal sensation roll around on the inside of his toothy snout. It would appear as though the newfangled magic rays of the man... woman... something-or-other had counteracted the calming essence of his Pipe. To take his mind off it, he eavesdropped on the two ladies conversing next to him. One of them, a winged girl who he vaguely recalled catching a glimpse of for a fraction of a second before, looked a bit strange, but that was, ironically, not very strange to a man like Rimau. The other one he didn't recognise, but he couldn't help but nod to himself as he listened to her talk about the dangers of naivete. Valuable stuff to teach a kid, of which there were too many who weren't taught that. Good news for him, though, was the re-appearance of Miss Naida, possibly the prettiest and most efficient bartender this side of... anywhere, really. The grin came back to him as he removed his Pipe and began to ramble to her. "Well, well, if it ain't my favourite bartender for the past week? Y'know, most bartenders I've seen don't 'ave wings an' can't flit about everywhere in a storm all fancy-like, an' that's pretty crazy 'cause it makes yer job real easy. Like, mint cash for nothin'-level easy. Reminds me o' this guy I saw once who set up his own bean farm, an'... well, it was pretty complicated, like, he had to sign a good mountain o' paperwork to even get 'imself the pen to sign the first of fifty million contracts with, an' there were, like, several thousand clauses designed to extort yer outta yer first-born son's soul... why's it always the first-born son, anyway? I mean, what 'ave all the devils got against the ladies? Hell, for that matter, why's it always virgin sacrifices? I'da thought the more experienced types would'a been considered, 'cause if yer gonna kill someone for some crazy kid in the sky, why bother bein' fussy? As if they 'ad standards all of a sudden? Pfft. That's a big problem we got nowadays, there ain't no professional standards, like that kid over there with his crappy 'music', an' if that were written down, that'd be in inverted commas, 'cause quite frankly, I dunno what he thinks he's achievin' tryin' to brainwash us into givin' him money with his fancy-shmancy magic rays. Look at 'at, backfire! I just got the courage to speak out against the lack o' professional standards in this day an' age! I remember a time an' a place where if you didn't 'ave standards, bullet to the 'ead fer you, hahahaha! Ahhh..." It only then dawned on him that she might not be particularly interested in his rambling, especially after he noticed her mumbling to some other kid, the one with dog ears glued to his skull. He took another puff of his Pipe to clear his head again. It was too early to be making a bad impression. "Sorry 'bout that, y'know I get a lil'... distracted when I ain't workin'. Anyways, lovely miss Naida, I don't s'pose y'could get me m'mornin' glass o' Orange Juice? I don't get these kiddos, I mean, look at 'em! Drinkin' Ale in the mornin'?! What kinda conduct is 'at? I once saw this one lady who drank a keg o' ale one Saturday mornin', an' lemme tell ya... uh... never mind. Y'ad to be there, anyways."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nearly dropped her fork when the music she had mostly ignored took a new turn. She felt a little...different. Restless? Not possible...she just spend a night in an alley, sleep hadn't been good. The same clenching feeling was clasping her chest. Magic? Was it the musician? She gave a searching look for the sound. Through the smoke, the many moving bodies and other obstructions, they barely caught the man thrashing about. Interesting, annoying, angering. A shaky sigh left the small woman. As if to calm her, her winged partner began to speak once more. Sharing pieces of her past and who she was. In turn, the third party of the trio gave her piece. A bit more to the point, a bit less informative. Not so jumpy anymore apparently? "...I'm afraid I have to agree with her Historia dear...Sometimes your past is to be...retained." She thought for a moment. "Though It doesn't seem you have anything to hide, which is quite..." She searched for a word. "Magical..." she decided. Her voice trailed off at that last word. Her tone was, sad, almost, but perhaps more so it seemed to be...longing. Perhaps envious. She tried to give a smile to accompany the word, but it didn't really find it's way out. "Thank you for sharing." She added softly. "Both of you..." She realized she had hardly addressed the other girl. Perhaps she should be making some effort to do so...</s>	<\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan sat quietly at his table as he waited, looking around at the patrons inside the tavern. There were a few new faces, but most he'd seen before. The girl that stayed here often, her name escaped him, was roaming about with her leopard. Felan was impressed by the creature. He had slightly embarrassed himself upon seeing it for the first time, having assumed it was a fellow skin changer. Obviously, that was not the case. He noticed an ogre was among the people bustling around, and Felan's lip curled slightly. He didn't care much for their kind, having had not-so-good experiences with them in the past. Of course, as long as the creature didn't act up, he wouldn't purposely cross paths with him. Another patron caught his eyes: a younger man casting magic on another customer. Felan watched, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Magic was not his forte. He didn't do it, didn't like it, and typically tried to avoid it. Before long, Naida swung by to take his order. Of course he just wanted his regular; Felan was a man of habit. Soon, it was on a plate in front of him: a juicy cut of meat, cooked very rare, and a glass of ale. His large hands fumbled with the eating utensils as he attempted to cut his food up. When at home, he wouldn't even bother. But in public, Felan made an attempt to appear remotely civilized.</s>
<\|description\|>Felan the Wolf Race: Skin-changer (based off of Tolkien fiction) Gender: Male Age: 35 Occupation: A simple sheep herder Personality/Interests: While usually gentle, Felan can be fierce if not given the respect he deserves. Like any creature of the forest, Felan must be respected in order for respect to be returned. He's loyal to those he calls friends, and generally mild mannered, but should one forget who he is, he's quick to remind them. Felan is very respectful of nature and her creatures. He only uses what he needs, and what he takes, he uses completely. Although he does have to kill animals to survive, he never considers hunting a great victory. It's simply something he has to do to live. He tends to get all sour when he sees others disrespecting these principals. Outside of his turf, he'll just tolerate it, but on his land, it is unacceptable. He doesn't care much for dwarves, seeing them as greedy creatures who do not respect the earth they mine. His feelings towards humans are kind of on the fence; while he's met very good ones, he's met bad ones as well. He's on pretty good terms with elfin folk, even if he thinks they're a bit stuck up. Magic-baring folk, he's a bit uneasy around. But he's willing to accept them. He absolutely hates goblins and ogres, usually killing them on sight if they intrude on his land. All other races of the land fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Appearance Details Felan is a big man. In his human form, he has copious amounts of hair. The hair on his head is long and black, his beard often grown out. On his back, it grows in a narrow mane that runs down his spine to his tailbone. The rest of his body is covered like that of an average man's, if not a bit thicker. It's smoother and softer than typical male human body hair, almost like fur. Body build: Tall and muscular Hair: Everywhere Hair color: Black Skin color: Caucasian, tanned by the sun. Eye/Iris color: Brown Height/Weight: A towering 6'8"/ 250 Notable Features: Scars litter his body from various spats with intruders Clothing Description: He's a man that clearly doesn't give much thought to his looks. Living alone and not knowing how to sew, his clothes tend to get a bit raggy. He often wears wool pants in various earth tones, and vests made of animal hide. May or may not be found wearing an actual shirt. Probably not. He doesn't get cold easily like your typical human, and since his shifting destroys it, clothing is typically light. Shoes are always forgotten. Equipment: He doesn't carry much Weapon: None Powers: Like every member of his species, he has the ability to take the form of a large, powerful animal whenever he chooses. His form is a great, black wolf with brown eyes. In this form, he stands 5 feet at the shoulder, with strength that surpasses your typical canine. Abilities: Can commune with canines, regardless of his form. Has acute senses. Feels a special connection with animals of any species. Talents: He's shown excellent farming skills. He's very good with his hands, having built his house with his own. Other: He lives on a homestead a few miles outside of town. There, he raises sheep who are said to have the silkiest wool in the country. He's quite popular with the merchants when he comes into town to sell it. The townspeople regard him as a strange hermit, but appreciate him for running off goblin raiders nevertheless. He lives alone, save for his animals. He has a few horses and ponies, quite a few sheep, birds that seem to just hang around, and a whole pack of dogs and wolves of every shape and size. All of whom wander his property and/or his house. Sessamaru: "Has a young and refreshing view on the world." Felan could get along well with him. Historia Saurvale: "A bit childish, but not a bad person." Saha Thulaja Era: "I get a bad vibe from this one." Probably won't get along too well. Katelia: "Not terribly sociable." She seems to be pretty decent to him, but he's still a little on the fence. Still, she's never done anything to make him hate her. Julio: "Seems nice enough." Azzrix Grimmor: "Kind of a shifty little fellow." He's not sure about this one. Margaret von Eisenberg: He's not fond of magic, and not fond of greed. She will probably rub him the wrong way. Naida Marcoon: "That's the nice girl that serves me my favorite ale every week." Drubbins: "I don't like ogres." Mysaren: "She seems nice. Haven't seen her around here before." Tahira Raske: "She seems nice, for a mage anyway." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Wish he'd stay off my damn land." Claire Alexandria: He doesn't really know what to think of her, but she hasn't offended him personally. Viggo Malmsteen: "Nice voice, awful person." Rouen Fulgur: "Pompous asshole."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau wasn't particularly surprised when Naida ignored his rambling requests; she was a busy lady, after all. It seemed like she had more important matters to attend to anyway; a new fellow at the door, for instance. Taking another puff of his Pipe to calm his nerves and stop any further rambling that morning, he turned his long, scaled neck back to observe the scene that went down at the door. The newcomer that Naida and the dog-eared man welcomed was a rather fancy-looking fellow, and not in a good way. With his ridiculous armour configuration and oversized sword, he just screamed 'compensating'. "Hmph, greedy bastard..." He mumbled to himself in stern disapproval. "...Look at 'at silly kid, with 'at huge sword an' even huger pauldron. What's the frickin' point of a pauldron if it only protects one arm? I bet all 'at weight is gonna break 'is flimsy arm, an' we can play a game o' swingball with it, heheh..." Rimau coughed a few times after that little chuckle at the newcomer's expense. He thought that perhaps he was being a little too harsh; after all, you can never judge a book by its cover, a philosophy Rimau often hoped his enemies were ignorant of. All the more amusing when their brains shot out the back of their heads. Twisting his neck and torso a bit further, he took another look at the Sheep-herder at the table some distance away, busy stuffing his mouth with steak; 'Steak, in the mornin'!' He thought to himself. 'What is the damn world comin' to? What sort o' testosterone poisonin' 'as consumed the people o' Ranaamar? Ale an' steak in the mornin', an' oversized pauldrons... no wonder my job's easy. At least the Tarzblik rebels 'ad the good sense to lay low an' all that.' Rimau took yet another puff to stop the internal ranting, and it hit him. The Sheep-herder; Felan, he believed he was called; seemed like a reasonable enough fellow under the right circumstances. Maybe he wasn't a fan of his control strategies, sure, but if he knew there was the biggest Wolf the world has ever seen on his land, maybe he'd reconsider his position. With this in mind, the old Zizz clambered down from his stool and, once again, manuevered through the crowds to the table at which the shirtless man sat. He couldn't help but admire his cleanliness, when you consider his decidedly unclean appearance. Another example of not judging books by covers. "'Ey, Mister Felan." He began to speak to him curtly, pulling up one of the empty chairs nearby. "Good to see yer 'ere this mornin'. 'Ow's things in the land o' the ol' Sheep? Pretty adventurous career, huh? Like, I bet they could write a good number o' sheep 'erdin' instruction manuals based on- ahh, I'm just messin' with ya, kid." Realising he might have sounded a little sarcastic, he quickly pulled that last bit in. He attempted to puff on his Pipe again, only to discover the bountiful herbs inside had stopped burning, even though they were nowhere near finished. Grumbling, he took out another match and tried to strike it against his wooden chair, keeping it out of Felan's view so as to not annoy him too much. "Y'know..." He started again, making some little grumbles as he attempted to light the match again during his pauses. "...I know we've 'ad some... unfortunate encounters in the past, an' it only makes sense. I mean... yer a big-money landowner an' I'm a freelance 'unter, so it's inevitable we'd butt 'eads every once in a good while. Ah! There we go... 'ope y'don't mind." He inserted that last segment of speech as he finally managed to strike his match, alerting Felan to the re-lighting of his smoking implement. Once he lit it, he drew in some more calm-smoke to increase his focus. This was an important proposition. "Now, in spite of all I jus' said, I do think that deep down, yer a good kid; a smart kid, an' I know yer'd put these... minor, niggly lil' issues aside for the sake o' the greater good. Is that how y'warmbloods say it, the 'greater good'? Yeah, must be. What am I gettin' 'at 'ere, I can already hear y'askin' in 'at growly voice o' yers? Well, I got me a lil' proposition fer you, kid. An' I think yer'll like it a lot. Like it like... that steak there."</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern Naida sees the look of irritation on his face and cringes. She does not exactly have a filter when it comes to saying things and she is so used to treating people like they are younger than she is. She listens to him for a few moments before answering his question. "Of course we can go inside. The Blue Moon is one of the best taverns in the realm!" Naida's grin gets wide. She leads him inside and flits over to the counter. "I'm assuming, since you're new here, that you probably don't know what to drink. Ask anyone! I will always know what you want to drink even when you don't know it yourself." She flits back over to him, her wings shedding fairy dust and glitter everywhere. She eyes him up and down and circles him before saying, "You could probably use a nice Fey Buster ale. That's a classic here and with a bit of my touch, it will taste like the Gods made it themselves." She grins at him and flies back over the counter. Moving rapidly, she grabs a large ale glass, one big enough for the large man, and begins to fill it with ale. Being back in the Tavern and farther away from the she-demon allows Naida to have her energy back. She moves quickly, sprinkling a little bit of fairy dust in the ale in between mixes and pours. She then shakes the ale up. Because the glass is clear, it is noticeable when the ale changes from a light brown color to more a of golden silvery color. She smiles at the color before flying back over to Rouen and handing him the drink. "Here you go. One of my specialties. Because you're new around here, this one's on the house." She gives him a smile. "It will warm up you right quick and make you feel like a new man." She watches him closely. "If you need a place to stay, we have empty rooms here. A lot of our customers live here actually. We have a homely kind of feel to us." She smiles at him again and waits for him to take a drink. She looks over at Sess and gives him a smile as well. No one has ever not liked her ale, unless it was another fey or mermaid. They have tasted it all before.</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Sessamaru studied the man, and he couldn't help but feel a tingling sensation. This man possessed power and it was tangible, especially to someone closely connected to the Nexus, the source of all energies. Rouen looked strong and held himself with a certain amount of self-importance. Though he was human, Sess knew of humans that could prove to be a threat to peace, whether they meant well or not. This man... Sessamaru felt he needed to keep close attention to him, otherwise the peace he strove for would fall into ruin. Nevertheless, he held his smile, undeterred by his body language. Throughout it all, he did not notice Naida's fingers digging into his arm and when she relieved the pressure to invite the man in, he looked down to his arm. With a shrug, he turned to Katelia and gave her a warm smile. She was a welcome sight to sore eyes, his cautious nature fading away. "Miss Katelia," Sessamaru greeted, then he turned his attention to her ally. "Mister Hel," he added, kneeling and scratching the leopard behind the ears. "Why don't you stay a while? It would be great if you two could enjoy what the Tavern has to offer." Sessamaru rose slowly, turning his attention back onto Naida and the knight. Naida smiled at him as she made the man a Fey Buster Ale, her most famous drink. "This place could use a little livening up, after all!" He laughed, turning back to the young woman. The half-breed outstretched his left hand to her, hoping she would accept his offer to remain.</s>	<\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan stayed to himself, big surprise there, while he ate his second breakfast as civilly as possible. At some point, he had stopped fooling around with the knife and just skewered large chunks of meat on his fork. But at least he was using a fork. He was near the point of finishing, already thinking of the chores he had at home, when one of the tavern's patrons came over to his table. Felan looked up as a lizard man sat down in front of him. The lizard man. The one he had caught trying to hunt on his land several times. The large man frowned. The reptile began on about some offer he had, each word only digging himself deeper. Felan stared at him with an expression of complete uninterest. The words chosen by the reptile were not very flattering; it was clear that striking deals was not his strong point. When he finally finished, Felan having polished off the last of his meal, the skin changer pushed his plate aside. "I am not a goat, and I am not a child. I would appreciate if you would stop referring to me as one," He said, his voice almost like a growl. He was blatantly displeased. Felan didn't care how old the lizard was. He was a full grown man, and he refused to be called a 'kid', especially by a being who clearly lacked good judgement. "And whatever offer you think you have, you can forget it. I have no care for anything you can provide."</s>
<\|description\|>Felan the Wolf Race: Skin-changer (based off of Tolkien fiction) Gender: Male Age: 35 Occupation: A simple sheep herder Personality/Interests: While usually gentle, Felan can be fierce if not given the respect he deserves. Like any creature of the forest, Felan must be respected in order for respect to be returned. He's loyal to those he calls friends, and generally mild mannered, but should one forget who he is, he's quick to remind them. Felan is very respectful of nature and her creatures. He only uses what he needs, and what he takes, he uses completely. Although he does have to kill animals to survive, he never considers hunting a great victory. It's simply something he has to do to live. He tends to get all sour when he sees others disrespecting these principals. Outside of his turf, he'll just tolerate it, but on his land, it is unacceptable. He doesn't care much for dwarves, seeing them as greedy creatures who do not respect the earth they mine. His feelings towards humans are kind of on the fence; while he's met very good ones, he's met bad ones as well. He's on pretty good terms with elfin folk, even if he thinks they're a bit stuck up. Magic-baring folk, he's a bit uneasy around. But he's willing to accept them. He absolutely hates goblins and ogres, usually killing them on sight if they intrude on his land. All other races of the land fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Appearance Details Felan is a big man. In his human form, he has copious amounts of hair. The hair on his head is long and black, his beard often grown out. On his back, it grows in a narrow mane that runs down his spine to his tailbone. The rest of his body is covered like that of an average man's, if not a bit thicker. It's smoother and softer than typical male human body hair, almost like fur. Body build: Tall and muscular Hair: Everywhere Hair color: Black Skin color: Caucasian, tanned by the sun. Eye/Iris color: Brown Height/Weight: A towering 6'8"/ 250 Notable Features: Scars litter his body from various spats with intruders Clothing Description: He's a man that clearly doesn't give much thought to his looks. Living alone and not knowing how to sew, his clothes tend to get a bit raggy. He often wears wool pants in various earth tones, and vests made of animal hide. May or may not be found wearing an actual shirt. Probably not. He doesn't get cold easily like your typical human, and since his shifting destroys it, clothing is typically light. Shoes are always forgotten. Equipment: He doesn't carry much Weapon: None Powers: Like every member of his species, he has the ability to take the form of a large, powerful animal whenever he chooses. His form is a great, black wolf with brown eyes. In this form, he stands 5 feet at the shoulder, with strength that surpasses your typical canine. Abilities: Can commune with canines, regardless of his form. Has acute senses. Feels a special connection with animals of any species. Talents: He's shown excellent farming skills. He's very good with his hands, having built his house with his own. Other: He lives on a homestead a few miles outside of town. There, he raises sheep who are said to have the silkiest wool in the country. He's quite popular with the merchants when he comes into town to sell it. The townspeople regard him as a strange hermit, but appreciate him for running off goblin raiders nevertheless. He lives alone, save for his animals. He has a few horses and ponies, quite a few sheep, birds that seem to just hang around, and a whole pack of dogs and wolves of every shape and size. All of whom wander his property and/or his house. Sessamaru: "Has a young and refreshing view on the world." Felan could get along well with him. Historia Saurvale: "A bit childish, but not a bad person." Saha Thulaja Era: "I get a bad vibe from this one." Probably won't get along too well. Katelia: "Not terribly sociable." She seems to be pretty decent to him, but he's still a little on the fence. Still, she's never done anything to make him hate her. Julio: "Seems nice enough." Azzrix Grimmor: "Kind of a shifty little fellow." He's not sure about this one. Margaret von Eisenberg: He's not fond of magic, and not fond of greed. She will probably rub him the wrong way. Naida Marcoon: "That's the nice girl that serves me my favorite ale every week." Drubbins: "I don't like ogres." Mysaren: "She seems nice. Haven't seen her around here before." Tahira Raske: "She seems nice, for a mage anyway." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Wish he'd stay off my damn land." Claire Alexandria: He doesn't really know what to think of her, but she hasn't offended him personally. Viggo Malmsteen: "Nice voice, awful person." Rouen Fulgur: "Pompous asshole."</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen followed Naida into the tavern. As she spoke to him he got chance to take a look around. "The inn-keep wasn't lying about this place being comely," he thought and relaxed. There were several tables and some chairs with seats made of some material that looked very comfortable to sit on. The walls were decorated, and there even was a stand for performers. He didn't know if there was something in the atmosphere, or maybe it was a result of the decorations, that put him in a trance. "This place feels...really nice after months out in the woods,"he pondered. He hardly took notice of the other patrons in the inn. "-It will warm up you right quick and make you feel like a new man," he heard from the white-haired lady. His eyes widened as he realized that he wasn't exactly paying attention to anything that she was saying. She continued talking and offered him what looked like some kind of ale. "Never seen ale with that color before, well it can't be too bad," he thought. "Thank you-er Naida right? Sorry, Miss I'm bad with names," he replied uneasily. He raised the glass and was about to take a sip when he felt something hit him hard on the back of his head. He flinched and he spilled the drink into his jerkin. "Who did-," he said and his brows came together in an expression of shock. He looked behind and saw the village-girl with her pet cat looking at him, hand drifting to her side. "Look asshole, I don't give a shit what dukedom or castle or whatever you grew up in, and I don't need your pity," he heard. She then walked away saying, "You talk to me again, I'm letting my pet tear your throat out." Rouen's eye twitched. "Why that little uncultured selfish ungrateful crettin," he fumed and clenched both of his hands into fists. His body reacted to his emotional state as he felt electric currents run from his head to his feet and back. A small buzzing noise resounded from the glass half-filled with ale in his hand as the current ran into it generating static shock. He took a step forward.</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Katelia's outburst made Sessamaru take a step back, his expression quizzical. Whoa! She's a powder keg! he thought, worried. However, he held his ground as he approached her once more. When she lashed out at him, an expression of pain flashed across his face. It has nothing to do with you, he reassured himself, knowing she wasn't angry at him. He turned to face the man. Sess was no stranger to judgement, and Rouen's eyes screamed superiority. Katelia's reentrance to the tavern was not a beautiful one, and Sess felt the tension between her and the man. The swordmage felt a much larger surge of power, his eyes widening in alarm. Thinking frantically, he took hurried steps back inside the tavern and... "Ack!" He tripped. He fell forward into a wild roll and faceplanted into the bar. The swordmage felt great pain in his nose and chin, his forehead very sore. He felt something wet on his head, but he was unsure of what it was. [Rupert] Rupert, minding his own wizardly business drinking his magical drink, leaped from his seat with a start, dropping his bottle. The liquid inside poured over a familiar figure's head. He turned, when his near-fatal heart attack ended, and glared at the person. "Dagnabbit, you pup!" He howled, glaring at Sess who was drenched in Regulus Blue, a liquid that was clear with a bluish glow. "First you unleash a wave of magic due to your own stupidity, and now you're wasting my perfectly good mead? I'll have your ears for this!" The old grump went on, sending his ancient foot into Sess's stomach. Upon impact, both Sess and Rupert howled out in pain, the old man hopping around, crying, "my foot! My beautifully aged foot!" Whilst Sess simply lay where he was, dazed after the initial howl.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern Naida grins as Rouen takes his first sip of her famous drink. She squints her eyes and sees his aura electrify with energy and smiles. That fairy dust was from her own personal collection that she collects off her wings and cleans every day so that she can have some to make this drink with. It was a lot of the customers' favorite drink because it gave them energy. Suddenly, she hears a crash behind her and she whips around to see Sessamaru lying on the ground underneath the bar with Rupert's Regulus Blue drink all over him. Rupert then kicks him and she cringes at the howling. She swears under her breath and flits over to Sess, helping him to his feet. She grabs a towel from back behind the bar, creates an ice ball out of the water in the air and wraps the towel around the ice ball, grabbing Sess's hand and placing the towel with the ball in it. She then presses the hand with the towel in it to his stomach and forces him to hold it there before she flits over to Rupert. "Here, take this Rupert!" she says over his yelling. She hands him a similar ice ball in a towel before flitting back over to the spill. She takes a deep breath, sucking in her stomach, and holds out her hands. Silvery glitter flutters from her hand and the mead begins to lift up from the wooden floor. Once she has all of the mead from the cracks of the wood, she grabs the glass that Rupert had and puts the mead back into it, making sure that she gets every drop of it from Sess and from the wood. She pours the ruined mead out and gets Rupert another glass of his mead. She sighs and sets the glass down on the back. She looks over at Sess and says, "I can't leave you for two minutes without you getting into trouble, can I?" she says with a teasing tone.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia was waiting for a response from her acquaintances (was it too soon to call them friends?) when she noticed that things were starting to...well, a ruckus was starting again. In one part of the Tavern, the bard was starting an argument with a red head lady, and in another part...yelling already. Historia turned just in time to see something shiny fly over and hit a knight looking man on the head. oh...this wasn't going to be good. Historia wondered if there was something she could do, as noble's were no stranger to her past, so she started to get up. As she did so, so did the knight...while Mr.Sess tripped nearby, hitting his face right on the bar, then having Mr. Rupurt's drink spilled on him to add insult to injury... before Mr.Rupurt added an extra layer of injury onto that by kicking Mr. Sess in the stomach, causing them both pain. Historia winced a little as she watched Miss Naida start to tend to him, before turning back to the knight. "Oh for the love of..." Not only was he standing there, looking like he was about to kill someone, but it looked like he was going after Miss Kat. Sure, alone, the knight would have probably been too much for Miss Kat, but Miss Kat also had Hel...Historia noticed that the knight took a step forward, towards Miss Kat and Hel and she realized someone had to do something before things got out of hand. Though it probably wasn't the wisest decision she had ever made in her life, Historia decided she would try. "Excuse me for a minute." She said nervously to her companions and quick walked over to in front of (but not too close) to the knight...with her back to Hel. Historia certainly had come full circle when it came to cats today hadn't she... "E-Excuse me M'lord." She stuttered a bit before taking a breath trying to calm down. "I understand that you are upset right now, but we've already had some problems in this tavern today..." She took another breath, "Starting a fight wouldn't do any good right now, and I am sure that a man of stature would be able to put whatever transgression that has went down between you and Miss Kat behind you for the good of the public." Historia bowed a little "I'm sorry if I come off a bit rude and putting my nose where it doesn't belong, but currently this Tavern is my home and I'd like for nothing else to happen in it today."</s>	<\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan began to tune the lizard out for a bit as the scene behind him caught his attention. Some poor bastard was trying to pick a fight with Kat, the tavern's hunter. He craned his neck to look the offender up and down, an amused smirk briefly gracing his lips. Then the zizz regained his attention. He turned back to the lizard man, a stern frown reappearing on his face. "A wolf?" He asked flatly. "Yes, I've seen it a couple times." Felan was very clearly not impressed by this information. "And I've never had trouble with it, or any wolf for that matter. Maybe if you keep your ass off my land, you won't either." There was almost a threatening undertone there. Felan didn't like killing; he figured every life he took was a little more taken from his own. Unless it was a goblin life, of course. But regardless, he only had so much patience. If the lizard kept slithering around his land, Felan would give him a reason to pack.</s>
<\|description\|>Azzrix Grimmor Race: Ratman Gender: male Age: 20 Occupation: gentleman Thief, noble, he is also intraining to become an assassin Personality/Interests: at first glance Azzrix seems laid back and not really caring, but that is not the case. He is a firm believer in the term blood is thicker than water, to him his family and their honor is most important to him. This a trait that most of his family. In terms of alignment Azzrix is lawful neutral. He is a devout follower in his family's codes of thievery and assassination. Honor his very important to him and unless he is doing an assassination Azzrix will almost never stab someone in the back both literally and figuratively. Azzrix has no qualms with killing to make his reputation as an assassin known throughout the land. Vengeance is another trait of his personality and he will not think twice before getting revenge on those who have greatly offended. He can be good fun when he is not on mission and is willing to have a nice drink and talk with anyone who isn't an enemy. Despite his deceptive nature, Azzrix is very loyal to his friends and allies, he will never betray a friend or ally unless they have betrayed him. Azzrix also has a superiority complex and thinks of himself as being the greatest thief in the world and superior to people outside of his family. Even though he thinks extremely highly of his skills, he will still be willing to learn new skills and techniques in thievery. He is extremely persuasive and deceptive, which has helped him become a gentlemen thief. Azzrix believes that deceiving and talking right is just as an important aspect of thievery as sneakiness is. If you insult his family then he he will kill you or maim you badly for your dishonorable words. Mentally he is very smart and extremely cunning. Azzrix is not someone you want to get into a battle of wits with and he will try to always think up another plan if the last one fails thanks to great skill in multitasking. His family code states that that he cannot steal from or assassinate the poor. His family believe that a proper challenge offers more fame and fortune, and Azzrix follows this code to the letter. Appearance: He looks like an anthropomorphic rat and is very well groomed and carries himself like a noble. Details Body build: he very well built, he is short but he has the muscles to go toe to toe with bigger opponents. His legs are of the right proportion to give him great agility evasiveness Hair: fur Hair color: blueish gray Skin color: bluish gray Eye/Iris color: blue Height/Weight: five feet and five inches tall Notable Features: he has a crescent moon mark on his cheek. Clothing Description: he is from a noble family so his clothes are very well made and he could blend in perfectly as a socialite. Equipment Weapon(s) Rapier Parrying Dagger hand crossbow Throwing Knives Powers: he can communicate with and command rats. Abilities: Ratmen are excellent climbers and have incredible senses especially sight and smell and are able to see in the dark. They also are extremely agile and can barely make a sound while running. Ratmen are very hardy and stout and can take hits and keep going thanks to their tougher bone structures. And they are by no means weak, they can hold their own in a fight of strnegth. Talents: Azzrix has been trained in the art of thievery since he was a very young child and as a teenager he began his assassin training, all of these have given him great skills in these fields. He is an incredibly fast climber and a great jumper, he once was able to clear a fifteen foot span from one roof top to another. Azzrix is an excellent swordsman and knife thrower, having trained in fancing and knife throwing since he was eight years old. He has also trained with light crossbows and is a very good marksmen. He is also an incredible unarmed combatant and thanks to his amazing agility Azzrix is amazingly evasiveness and can dodge extremely well. Azzrix is a great linguist and is excellent at learning and mastering languages. Magic: he has no magic impressions</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire tried to nod to the chef as some form of thankful recognition, but he was gone to work before their eyes could meet. She let her eyes trail back to the interior, a winged girl who had just sat down near her, was now walking towards one wall of the tavern. Claire watched as she went and fearlessly spoke with a stranger. An armed stranger. As the girl seemed to start walking back, Claire jerked her head down. Starring was rude. A friendly voice to her side drew her eyes back up in mere seconds though. The same winged girl was sitting next to her, a warm smile on her lips. "Oh.." Claire muttered mindlessly. "Ah...My name is...Claire." She looked the girl up and down, taking in a few more details now that she wasn't moving. An interesting soul, to be sure. "No I don't mind...I was just hoping for company actually." A sort of lie, but she didn't wan't to push this girl away. She seemed quite nice. Claire looked past her new conversation partner to eye the other girl Historia had spoken to. It seems they were also invited over. Interesting... Almost as interesting as the one armed girl with a panther. That would be hard to beat though. She walked through the inner workings of the business with some obvious comfort, and went to sit with her...pet. Claire studied them for a moment. Interesting, interesting, interesting. "I have some food coming...if you don't mind." She mentioned to Historia. Some found it odd when one person ate in a group of others who didn't, and she didn't know if this winged fellow had any of her own coming or not. Not to mention the shifty third party in their little group. She regarded again the girl who was now sitting next to Historia, they seemed to be busy looking for a chance to ask the barkeep something. Maybe she would wait until they spoke first...</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Malmsteen exits the lavatory, readjusting his belt as he looks at the newly repopulated tavern. His cruel gaze falls upon each member of the tavern in turn, judging everyone silently as he makes his way to the makeshift stage in the corner of the main floor. Grabbing a small stool as he passes, Viggo climbs onto the stage and takes his guitar off his back, saddling it across his chest. Once on stage, the pale musician sits and sheds his heavy black-leather jacket, letting it crumple to the ground behind him. Clearing his throat once, Viggo begins to tune his instrument, letting the strings twang softly as their pitch raises and lowers. After a few minutes of housekeeping, Viggo runs his calloused palm across the neck of his remarkable guitar, and begins to play. The melody is plucky and sharp, but has a certain harmony to it. The song rises and falls as Viggo's fingers climb up and down the neck of his instrument, his blond hair cascading forward and hiding his face as he continues to play the tune. The sophistication of the jaunty little ballad would inspire a foot-tap from anyone in a decent enough mood, and generally provides the otherwise quiet establishment with a pleasant and relaxing atmosphere. 'I bet none of these losers even recognise this as Zwelf's Fourth Ballad' he thinks to himself as he continues to play, 'Bah, to hell with such thoughts, I don't need their compliments or musical taste, only their coin...' he muses quietly, grinning as he continues to pluck at his fantastical guitar. After a little while, his song concludes, giving Viggo a chance to kick forward a small pail with a few shillings and silver pieces in it.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia glanced over at the door when she heard...she thought her name was Miss Katelia and the....big...cat Hel...Historia shuddered slightly. She had had enough of cats for today...So she turned her attention right back to the woman that she had sat down beside. "Claire, that's a nice name." Historia said with a smile. She looked over to Miss Claire again. There was something on her that didn't look weathered, which was the sash around Miss Claire's waist. It was a really pretty sash, and it made Historia wonder if perhaps it had some sort of special meaning to Miss Claire or if she just really liked it. "As for food," Historia said, responding to what Miss Claire told her, "I was thinking of ordering some myself in a minute." She added before turning around to Miss Mysaren. Historia didn't really notice before that she smelled a bit...funny...and she was covered in dirt...Perhaps she was a grave digger or something like that? "Will you be ordering something yourself?" Historia asked her. No sooner had Historia asked that though, did Historia notice that there was some music playing. She looked slightly past Miss Mysaren to see a man playing on the little makeshift stage. The tune was lovely, though Historia didn't know if it was a common tune or if the musician had written it himself as she was still getting used to this country. Historia then turned her full attention back to Miss Mysaren, deciding that perhaps she would talk with the musician later.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren Location: Blue Moon Tavern Mysaren looked up at Historia, smiling again. "Hm? Oh, uhm, probably just a drink or two," She said, seeing no reason to lie. She'd left behind that part of her self, or at least, she liked to think she did. "I was actually looking to get a room here for a while." She was still a bit intimidated by the bartender, owner, who ever he was. He seemed to be able to look through everything about her, and it made her a bit twitchy. She felt her stomach flip at the smell of food cooking, and she hadn't eaten in a while, but she couldn't afford it, not if she wanted to get a room. She'd have to sell off her loot soon, or she may have to live off of whatever she can find for a while. She heard the music start, and turned her head to watch the man playing perform. He wasn't bad, she had to admit. She wasn't a fan, but there was skill, she could appreciate that much. She turned back around after a while though, only half listening. The tune almost sounded familiar, but she couldn't put a name to it. She sighed, desperate for a drink and a nice, hot meal.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern A ruckus could be heard outside the tavern, banging and rumbling. Suddenly, the doors to the tavern burst inward and a shower of glitter follows behind a speeding streak of blue and white. Naida skids to a stop in the middle of the tavern and looks around with a large smile on her face. "Woah! Fast start to a day huh?!" she says rapidly, looking around. "Sorry I'm late!" She flies over to counter, pulling on her skirt apron and giving Bernard a kiss on the cheek. "Hey Bernard baby!" Her silvery blue and white hair flies about her head as some of the people at the counter begin shouting orders at her. She smiles quickly and says, "Coming right up!" She whips out a drink mixer and begins to pour the orders, pouring faster than any normal bartender could go. She pushes the drinks down the bar to the customers and she grins again. Before Bernard can even ask, Naida is out at the tables, taking orders and moving faster than those other waitresses could even go. She smiles at each of the customers and gives them each her best attention. "You want an omelet? Sure! I can whip that up in a jiff. What about you, hun? A bloodied steak? Coming right up!" Moving as a blur, she flits back over to the kitchen and shouts orders to the cook before turning around and smiling at Bernard again. "I think that makes up for a little of my tardiness, don't you think?" Before he can answer again, she wanders back over to the bar and looks around. She notices Historia in the corner and yells, "Hey darling! Glad to see ya here!" She also notices that she's talking to a new girl and says, "Hey, girly! You look great!" She turns back to Bernard and asks, "Has the demon been in yet?" She chuckles kindheartedly, thinking of Kat. She should really begin to try to get along with her, but she really can't. It's in her nature. She looks around and notices Sessamaru in a corner, hovering above the ground. She grins and, moving quietly, she walks over to him sneakily. "Hiya, Sess!" she says loudly, right next to his ear.</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf .</s>	<\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix had a large bag full of going coins on his belt, this was thanks to his latest thievery from a greedy noble who had unfairly taxed the peasants and robbed them of their money. While he didn't give a single bit of care at the unfairness that was done to the peasants, he did however like stealing the man's money and got a laugh when he heard the man's screams of anger upon seeing that he had been robbed. Azzrix was now going to celebrate his success with his thievery. He came to the Blue Moon Tavern as the early lights of the morning began to come over the horizon, and Azzrix wanted to get a drink and was willing to share his wealth with the lucky people who were in the tavern at the time. He grinned at the thought of having the best food that the business could over and he was going drink till he fell to the floor. He quickly walked up to the tavern and came with a loud boom as he made the door bang open, and he gave them all a smile. Azzrix held up his bag of gold coins and shook it making it create a jingling noise. "Bartender! A plate of your finest meat and cheese and drinks for me and everyone in here! I am here to celebrate my recent amass of wealth." he said to everyone with a big smile. He hoped that this act of generosity would make him liked among the tavern goers and help get him some allies in case a mission came up that he would need assistance with.</s>
<\|description\|>Azzrix Grimmor Race: Ratman Gender: male Age: 20 Occupation: gentleman Thief, noble, he is also intraining to become an assassin Personality/Interests: at first glance Azzrix seems laid back and not really caring, but that is not the case. He is a firm believer in the term blood is thicker than water, to him his family and their honor is most important to him. This a trait that most of his family. In terms of alignment Azzrix is lawful neutral. He is a devout follower in his family's codes of thievery and assassination. Honor his very important to him and unless he is doing an assassination Azzrix will almost never stab someone in the back both literally and figuratively. Azzrix has no qualms with killing to make his reputation as an assassin known throughout the land. Vengeance is another trait of his personality and he will not think twice before getting revenge on those who have greatly offended. He can be good fun when he is not on mission and is willing to have a nice drink and talk with anyone who isn't an enemy. Despite his deceptive nature, Azzrix is very loyal to his friends and allies, he will never betray a friend or ally unless they have betrayed him. Azzrix also has a superiority complex and thinks of himself as being the greatest thief in the world and superior to people outside of his family. Even though he thinks extremely highly of his skills, he will still be willing to learn new skills and techniques in thievery. He is extremely persuasive and deceptive, which has helped him become a gentlemen thief. Azzrix believes that deceiving and talking right is just as an important aspect of thievery as sneakiness is. If you insult his family then he he will kill you or maim you badly for your dishonorable words. Mentally he is very smart and extremely cunning. Azzrix is not someone you want to get into a battle of wits with and he will try to always think up another plan if the last one fails thanks to great skill in multitasking. His family code states that that he cannot steal from or assassinate the poor. His family believe that a proper challenge offers more fame and fortune, and Azzrix follows this code to the letter. Appearance: He looks like an anthropomorphic rat and is very well groomed and carries himself like a noble. Details Body build: he very well built, he is short but he has the muscles to go toe to toe with bigger opponents. His legs are of the right proportion to give him great agility evasiveness Hair: fur Hair color: blueish gray Skin color: bluish gray Eye/Iris color: blue Height/Weight: five feet and five inches tall Notable Features: he has a crescent moon mark on his cheek. Clothing Description: he is from a noble family so his clothes are very well made and he could blend in perfectly as a socialite. Equipment Weapon(s) Rapier Parrying Dagger hand crossbow Throwing Knives Powers: he can communicate with and command rats. Abilities: Ratmen are excellent climbers and have incredible senses especially sight and smell and are able to see in the dark. They also are extremely agile and can barely make a sound while running. Ratmen are very hardy and stout and can take hits and keep going thanks to their tougher bone structures. And they are by no means weak, they can hold their own in a fight of strnegth. Talents: Azzrix has been trained in the art of thievery since he was a very young child and as a teenager he began his assassin training, all of these have given him great skills in these fields. He is an incredibly fast climber and a great jumper, he once was able to clear a fifteen foot span from one roof top to another. Azzrix is an excellent swordsman and knife thrower, having trained in fancing and knife throwing since he was eight years old. He has also trained with light crossbows and is a very good marksmen. He is also an incredible unarmed combatant and thanks to his amazing agility Azzrix is amazingly evasiveness and can dodge extremely well. Azzrix is a great linguist and is excellent at learning and mastering languages. Magic: he has no magic impressions</s> <\|message\|>Margaret von Eisenberg Spark Just when Margaret thought her prediction about the day would true, a few things happened that spoke otherwise. At first, the one called Azzrix arrived and ordered ale. Perfect! Nothing like a glass of something mild to ease the body out of the hangover. Just as she was about to thank the rat, the light dimmed significantly in the room. Squinting, she found out it was an ogre obstructing her sun. Were it anyone else, she might have gone to complain, but with the sheer size of him and his most likely disproportionate intellect, the witch thought it wise to keep her mouth shut. Oh, and somebody unleashed the magical equivalent of a fart. Oh joy. Fortunately, Margaret wasn't as affected as one might believe. first of all, her affinity for magic was considerably lower than that of a wizard, and second was the little charm hanging around her neck. It was a silver chain with a stylized figure of a human hanging on it, with it's head replaced by a sapphire decorated with cracks that were tainted in crimson. the stone seemed to be giving off a faint glow that was diminishing slowly. Still, it wasn't anything she would like to repeat. If only because it made the bartender use that hellish bell that made her head ring for long minutes afterwards. She was soon distracted form her misery though as she was approached by someone. Looking at the source of the question, her eyes fell on a robed woman, possibly younger than herself but who could tell under that hood. Tahira, was it? She has seen - or rather not - her around the library. It sparked a little bit of interest in the witch, even if only a professional one. "Aye, it wasn't anything worth repeating. Much like most of the musical numbers around here." Margaret nodded, waving her hand to an empty chair at the table she was occupying. "But these things make wonders." she said and tucked on the charm around her neck.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren felt the burst of energy, and felt Historia's wings close around her. She was forced back into her seat, her hand slipping from her blade again from the force of it all. It all happened so fast, and her entire body shook by the end of it, her mouth held open. She had her hand on her bag, about to run, but decided to stay. Some of the commotion had finally calmed down, and the plate was set in front of her by one of the mysterious men the owner brought in. "T-thanks." She gulped to Historia. She started to nibble on her food, her hunger replaced by panic and hysteria. Yet, the screaming still hadn't started. This was past weird, and ventured into utterly terrifying. A burst of energy like that should've killed something, he knew it. One of the older folks in the tavern, hell even a gnat on the wall, but death seemed to escape this place, and it scared her. Death was natural, something that was around every corner. Mysaren was almost too well acquainted with how common death was, especially in a tavern like this, but she felt a deep worry in her chest. Something was off. She started to eat anyways, though. Maybe the lack of food recently was makin her a bit skittish. She still scarfed down the meal quickly though, not caring that anyone was watching. She was starving, utterly and truly starving, and a hot meal was happily accepted. She still needed a bath though, a bath and some nice clothes. That would make the day go a whole lot better.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku The old Zizz soon descended the stairs and entered the main room of the tavern, scanning his head from left to right. It was considerably busier than usual this morning, he noticed. Lots of strange folk hanging around, too. There was some fancy-pants Rodent hanging about; could've sworn he's seen that one before. But there was something even stranger next to him; a giant Ogre was standing there with a pint in his hand (seemed like a woefully inadequate amount for a creature of his size), laughing in the Rodent's face. He couldn't see the Rodent's face, and that was a shame, because he'd probably have been putting on a funny expression. Off in one of the corners, he squinted at the redhead witch hanging about in the shade. It wasn't an evil squint, mind you, but a competitive squint; he had been at the tavern for about a week now, and had had ample opportunity to acquaint himself with that one. He couldn't help but admire her ingenuity with that Crossbow of hers. She could prove problematic if any big-time mercenary work pops up, with all that old-school magic of hers. Cheating? Yes, but only if you got caught. Then there was that Sheep herder at one of the tables. Best ignore that one, he thought. He'd been sneaking about 'his' land again, and he didn't seem to have a good sense of humour. The sort of person who'd go nuts if you so much as mentioned the idea of controlling animal population. Which was a shame, given the enormous Wolf he'd spotted in the area. That was going to prove quite the prize, when he had some free time. What was particularly irritating at this time in the morning, though, was the sheer business of the place. The Zizz usually sat in one of the comfy seats off in the corner somewhere, but it seemed like that area was flooded with young fools getting drunk at nine A.M., or whatever time it was. Morons! They'd probably end up dead before the day was done, he thought as he chuckled to himself slightly, though not forgetting his irritation. As a result of these morons, however, the Zizz was forced to manuever his way past quite a few patrons (not an easy task thanks to his height and tail swaying about) and clamber up on top a lone stool at the bar, somewhere he rarely ever sat. There was a good reason for this, which made itself apparent pretty soon. Ignoring the great wall that was the Ogre to his left, he rummaged about in one of his belt pockets to retrieve his prized Pipe, made of dark wood as per usual Zizz preference. Removing the little cap to stop all the pre-packed 'medicinal' herbs from falling out, he removed a match from the same pocket and attempted to strike it against the bar. No luck. He tried it again, and again, and about six more 'agains' before he could finally squeeze a little flame off it, grumbling to himself the entire time. That was another weird thing about the tavern; it always took more effort to light matches. Some sort of newfangled suppression field, perhaps, which might also explain the sheer lack of the usual bar fights he'd seen in... just about every other tavern he'd been to. Except the ones in Tarzblik, obviously. For entirely different reasons. Finally, he stuck his Pipe in his toothy mouth and lit it with the match, waving it about afterwards to turn the fire into a little smoke puff. Of course, that was nothing compared to what happened afterwards as the Zizz began to actually smoke said Pipe, releasing much bigger puffs of smoke which spread across the bar. Of course the Zizz didn't particularly care for any inconvenience this may cause, since the calming herbal sensation had him captivated. It was enough to make him grin again, in that classic terrifying fashion Zizz were known for.</s>	<\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was slightly disappointed that Kat hadn't taken the mug he had offered, but she did already have one. He then heard the orge's response and even though he kept a straight face Azzrix had a vein bulging on his head. How dare this creature make his offer of help a game, if he wasn't of noble birth then he would have taken this beast's head. Even though his mind was thinking violent thoughts Azzrix still smiled at the inferior creature before him. "You're a funny one ogre, what is your name, you do have a name right?" he asked with a smile still imagining throwing a knife at him. He took sips of his mead and felt his anger calm down for a bit. He was waiting to see what kind of mission he could take to earn some money and also see if there would be a chance for him to steal from a challenging wealthy person, maybe he would also get an assassination mission. God only knows when he would get a chance to practice his assassin skills on a mission and he wondered how well the others would do on such missions. Azzrix was more interested in working with magic users, muscle was good, but he had plenty of that and anymore stealthy people would mean that he would lose the franchise, he had enough stealth. Magic on other hand he had none of and so getting a good magic user to work with him would open up a whole world of possibility and fencing magical artifacts would get him a really great amount of gold, he's heard stories about some magic guilds being loaded thanks some of them being able to make gold with their magic. Azzrix especially would love to get his hands on the alchemy formula to create gold if it existed, an infinite amount of gold would be very useful for expanding his family's influence and ambitions of his own.</s>
<\|description\|>Azzrix Grimmor Race: Ratman Gender: male Age: 20 Occupation: gentleman Thief, noble, he is also intraining to become an assassin Personality/Interests: at first glance Azzrix seems laid back and not really caring, but that is not the case. He is a firm believer in the term blood is thicker than water, to him his family and their honor is most important to him. This a trait that most of his family. In terms of alignment Azzrix is lawful neutral. He is a devout follower in his family's codes of thievery and assassination. Honor his very important to him and unless he is doing an assassination Azzrix will almost never stab someone in the back both literally and figuratively. Azzrix has no qualms with killing to make his reputation as an assassin known throughout the land. Vengeance is another trait of his personality and he will not think twice before getting revenge on those who have greatly offended. He can be good fun when he is not on mission and is willing to have a nice drink and talk with anyone who isn't an enemy. Despite his deceptive nature, Azzrix is very loyal to his friends and allies, he will never betray a friend or ally unless they have betrayed him. Azzrix also has a superiority complex and thinks of himself as being the greatest thief in the world and superior to people outside of his family. Even though he thinks extremely highly of his skills, he will still be willing to learn new skills and techniques in thievery. He is extremely persuasive and deceptive, which has helped him become a gentlemen thief. Azzrix believes that deceiving and talking right is just as an important aspect of thievery as sneakiness is. If you insult his family then he he will kill you or maim you badly for your dishonorable words. Mentally he is very smart and extremely cunning. Azzrix is not someone you want to get into a battle of wits with and he will try to always think up another plan if the last one fails thanks to great skill in multitasking. His family code states that that he cannot steal from or assassinate the poor. His family believe that a proper challenge offers more fame and fortune, and Azzrix follows this code to the letter. Appearance: He looks like an anthropomorphic rat and is very well groomed and carries himself like a noble. Details Body build: he very well built, he is short but he has the muscles to go toe to toe with bigger opponents. His legs are of the right proportion to give him great agility evasiveness Hair: fur Hair color: blueish gray Skin color: bluish gray Eye/Iris color: blue Height/Weight: five feet and five inches tall Notable Features: he has a crescent moon mark on his cheek. Clothing Description: he is from a noble family so his clothes are very well made and he could blend in perfectly as a socialite. Equipment Weapon(s) Rapier Parrying Dagger hand crossbow Throwing Knives Powers: he can communicate with and command rats. Abilities: Ratmen are excellent climbers and have incredible senses especially sight and smell and are able to see in the dark. They also are extremely agile and can barely make a sound while running. Ratmen are very hardy and stout and can take hits and keep going thanks to their tougher bone structures. And they are by no means weak, they can hold their own in a fight of strnegth. Talents: Azzrix has been trained in the art of thievery since he was a very young child and as a teenager he began his assassin training, all of these have given him great skills in these fields. He is an incredibly fast climber and a great jumper, he once was able to clear a fifteen foot span from one roof top to another. Azzrix is an excellent swordsman and knife thrower, having trained in fancing and knife throwing since he was eight years old. He has also trained with light crossbows and is a very good marksmen. He is also an incredible unarmed combatant and thanks to his amazing agility Azzrix is amazingly evasiveness and can dodge extremely well. Azzrix is a great linguist and is excellent at learning and mastering languages. Magic: he has no magic impressions</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren The music playing was magic, Mysaren could tell that much. At least, it made her feel irrationally... angry. Courageous. She wanted to fight and argue against almost everyone near her. She swallowed her anger and clenched her fists, gritting her teeth impatiently. She wanted to bash in the head of that idiot that was playing the music that made her feel weird, she wanted to fight the orc that was standing across the room, she wanted to use her sword on the useless rat beside her that was blowing smoke all over the place. She had the courage to do it now, but didn't, she resisted her urges. Who let this moron play music like this in a tavern? Mysaren let a grin tug at the side of her mouth as she listened to Historia, shaking her head slightly. "Sorry for uhm, the advice, Historia," She said, letting her dark blue eyes scan over Historia again. She wished she could be like that, naive and carefree. "It's just that, well, where I come from, telling people hopes and dreams is kinda a death wish. I didn't mean to offend you, of course." She still didn't feel comfortable telling anyone where she was from, but her accent probably clued them in that she wasn't from around these parts. "Not much. I would like to know where maybe I could sell a few family heirlooms. " She said. Mysaren was also well aware of how a good lie worked. One, you never added too much detail unless questioned. Too many details, and you look suspicious, it seems to well thought out. Two, you practice, like Mysaren had been for most of her life. She had been to too many cities, met too many people in skeevy taverns and bars to not know how to lie. She didn't like lying anymore, though, but this was a necessary evil, at least to her. She needed money, and no one would want some piss poor necromancer freak to work for them.</s> <\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era Saha had finished shedding her skin. Dry, delicate, paper-thin pieces of what used to be parts of her lay in a neat pile on the floor: a whole translucent mould of an arm, or an ear, or a toe, was stacked with short and long strips that had fallen off on their own or had been scrapped off with the help of a smooth pebble. She had been cooped up in the small room, cheaply that the wanderer could afford in Blue Tavern, for almost a week. Her body had conserved its energy by lulling her to sleep for days and nights, only to wake when her skin itched, without food or drink; now, recuperated and with vision restored, Saha could feel her mouth parched and cracked lips, her stomach grumbled, although, with a look down and feel of her body, she had hardly lost weight. She folded up the pile in a piece of cloth to be burned in the forest and put on her light armour. The leather felt a little tight and uncomfortable on her soft skin and etched in more when she moved, but she ignored it knowing her body would toughen up in a few days to its usual self. The bedroom tidied, Saha opened the door and stepped out of its enchantment that had been affording her peace and silence and, being sensitive, was struck by the overwhelming odours and aggressive music that had stalked upstairs. Her breathing quickened. There was pipe smoke, rare meat that excited her, strong magic, a multitude of folks from different places, animals, blood and ale - worst of all, she felt stirred to whip out her sword and dance as if she was in a fierce fight. Saha relaxed her grip on the hilt and muttered a spell. A breeze cleared the way and her head. She hurried downstairs, she could feel the bardic influence returning. "Bernard!" she called out with nary a glance at the numerous patrons on her way to the front door. "Six for me please! Rare! Put it on my tab, I'll be back in a bit." The door shut behind her; the guitar was muffled to a quieter sound that let her fully regain control of her senses and Saha found herself interjected into company. "Good morning, Kat and Hel," she greeted, and to the stranger, held her left palm to her chest in accordance to polite Naga custom. "Sorry I had to stay away for a while, I had a private matter that needed my attention." Saha looked at Hel in the eye, as if addressing him, too, as an equal, and continued saying to them both, "I'll be having breakfast soon, with enough to share, perhaps you'd like to join me." Saha excused herself from the trio and walked down the beaten path. The sunlight warmed her skin, a delicious sensation she had missed, and she focused on the fresh air that brought scents of morning dew, grass and dirt from the surrounding forest. It was a short stroll into the woods, the damp ground, brown and green with leaves, under the protection of the tall trees, held an intimacy that felt like home. She found a good spot by a fallen log and stilled with her mouth open to breathe in and sense if there was anyone nearby; then she gathered some twigs and cast a spell to start a fire. The Naga untied the pouch she had been carrying in one hand and carefully laid it on top of the flames. It consumed the gift in whole. "Saha'le arimay aksatelaikum," she gave thanks in her native tongue, for the experiences life had bestowed upon her, for the joys, pains and regrets, for another beginning now was she wiser; then Saha covered the fire with dirt to complete the ritual.</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Bernard] Bernard watched the interaction between the ratman and the ogre, remaining patient. When the ratman was eager to announce himself as the boss, he saw the gears turning slowly in Drubbin's head, turning a big red eye at him. Drubbin's chose, to what seemed like the best choice to Bernard, to stay his krumpin' hand and laugh at Azzrix's joke. Drubbin's, wanting to know more, asked Bernard about his job, indicating to the board. Bernard, wishing to remain quiet, nodded in response. He thus turned his attention to someone else, going back to his duties. "Bernard, you son of a bitch, how about a couple of beers! Viggo cried cheerfully, garnering the attention of the barkeep. Bernard grabbed a pail full of beer bottles, handing them to the bard. When the musician returned to his station, Bernard waited and when he did, the bard began to play a song that was, at first, generous and pleasing to the ear; until he worked the strings of his instrument with power and liveliness. Though it was amazing, the barkeep glared, sensing the magic. His stern look was locked onto the musician, tangible and overpowering. It was the kind of look that screamed experience and danger to those receiving it, and it held a gravity of its own. However, his glare swiftly died, the hard look becoming empty once more, as though staring into a far off distance... or at everything that was before him, memorizing it like a scholar lost in the most intriguing study. It was Naida's intervention that had made him stop glaring, to return to his vigilant nature. The naga was quick in exiting her room, making a quick order of six bloody steaks. He nodded to the woman as she fled the tavern, already ringing his bell to gather the chef. [Sessamaru] Sessamaru listened to the din with a sense of content as Naida fled for a short moment, enjoying the social atmosphere. Nothing bad ever truly happened here, and it was a good thing. If only the world could work as it did at the Tavern. No one wanting to kill each other, everyone who hated each other let the other exist simply because they didn't have the mind to hurt them, and those who enjoyed each other simply remained where they were, talking up a storm that made even the Gales envious. Sessamaru watched the events transpiring in the tavern, and laughed. He overheard, by complete accident, the conversation with the ogre and the ratman, chuckling at the exchange. Azzrix, he knew, would try anything to swindle someone, and Drubbins was clever enough to escape the ratman's verbal trap. When the music began once more, Sessamaru felt magic bubbling up from beneath the notes. When the introduction ended and the riffs began coming in full force, the swordmage waved a hand and severed the air before him into a vacuum, silencing the spell. Though it didn't work for the entire tavern, it proved quite taxing to prevent the spell's mood alteration on himself, due to the immense suppression of the Tavern. It's like trying to lift five ton weights, he mentally groaned, falling to his bum due to a faint sensation. Naida was already yelling at Viggo for his use of magic. Sessamaru simply laughed, rubbing the back of his head. No matter how powerful an enemy there is, none of them is as scary as Miss Naida! he thought, his smile growing into a wide, toothy grin. It didn't take long for Naida to return from her duties, and as she curiously stared out the window, Sess rose from the ground weakly to see what was going on. "Who's that?" Naida asked, pointing to the knightly gentleman. The half-breed shrugged and kept his smile. "A new friend," he told her, and the swordmage began to make his way to the door, grabbing Naida by the wrist. "Mister Bernard! I'm going to borrow Naida for a second, if that's alright!" Sess cried over the din, waving his free hand to Bernard as he wandered towards the door, with Naida in tow. When he arrived at the door, staring at Kat and the knight, Sess bowed before the man as was custom for Dearmadta. "Welcome to the Blue Moon Tavern! I'm Sessamaru, the local swordmage and a wanderer. A pleasure to meet you!" The half-breed greeted, rising from his bow. "And this is Miss Naida, a bartender and waitress here at the Blue Moon."</s>	<\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor The ogre's broken language made it hard for Azzrix to understand, but he still managed thanks to great linguistic skills and he found the being to be intellectually boring. Azzrix gave a smile when Kat refered to him as 'my lord' it made him feel so powerful. "Have joyous day my lady" he said with a polite bow. He ordered himself another mug of mead and began to drink in the hopes feeling more joyous at the success of his thieving business. He heard the music that bard was playing and didn't find it too appealing, he would have preferred something more romantic and epic, and Azzrix was also getting a strange feeling from hearing the music, but he was still in good mood and walked over to the musician's pail and dropped in at least ten gold coins. Eventually Drubbin's broken English began to make more sense and Azzzrix was becoming tipsy. He noticed more people entering the bar and raised his mug to give an announcement. "Everyone! It is with great pleasure that I am sharing this celebration with you and hope that bright futures for all of us are to come! Now let us drink until either dream god conquers us or the death god takes us away!" he shouted and took another gulp of his mead and almost immediately afterwards he stumbled into a table knocking over a plate. He was able to right himself before he fell on the floor, but he had to use a chair as a brace to keep himself from falling over.</s>
<\|description\|>Azzrix Grimmor Race: Ratman Gender: male Age: 20 Occupation: gentleman Thief, noble, he is also intraining to become an assassin Personality/Interests: at first glance Azzrix seems laid back and not really caring, but that is not the case. He is a firm believer in the term blood is thicker than water, to him his family and their honor is most important to him. This a trait that most of his family. In terms of alignment Azzrix is lawful neutral. He is a devout follower in his family's codes of thievery and assassination. Honor his very important to him and unless he is doing an assassination Azzrix will almost never stab someone in the back both literally and figuratively. Azzrix has no qualms with killing to make his reputation as an assassin known throughout the land. Vengeance is another trait of his personality and he will not think twice before getting revenge on those who have greatly offended. He can be good fun when he is not on mission and is willing to have a nice drink and talk with anyone who isn't an enemy. Despite his deceptive nature, Azzrix is very loyal to his friends and allies, he will never betray a friend or ally unless they have betrayed him. Azzrix also has a superiority complex and thinks of himself as being the greatest thief in the world and superior to people outside of his family. Even though he thinks extremely highly of his skills, he will still be willing to learn new skills and techniques in thievery. He is extremely persuasive and deceptive, which has helped him become a gentlemen thief. Azzrix believes that deceiving and talking right is just as an important aspect of thievery as sneakiness is. If you insult his family then he he will kill you or maim you badly for your dishonorable words. Mentally he is very smart and extremely cunning. Azzrix is not someone you want to get into a battle of wits with and he will try to always think up another plan if the last one fails thanks to great skill in multitasking. His family code states that that he cannot steal from or assassinate the poor. His family believe that a proper challenge offers more fame and fortune, and Azzrix follows this code to the letter. Appearance: He looks like an anthropomorphic rat and is very well groomed and carries himself like a noble. Details Body build: he very well built, he is short but he has the muscles to go toe to toe with bigger opponents. His legs are of the right proportion to give him great agility evasiveness Hair: fur Hair color: blueish gray Skin color: bluish gray Eye/Iris color: blue Height/Weight: five feet and five inches tall Notable Features: he has a crescent moon mark on his cheek. Clothing Description: he is from a noble family so his clothes are very well made and he could blend in perfectly as a socialite. Equipment Weapon(s) Rapier Parrying Dagger hand crossbow Throwing Knives Powers: he can communicate with and command rats. Abilities: Ratmen are excellent climbers and have incredible senses especially sight and smell and are able to see in the dark. They also are extremely agile and can barely make a sound while running. Ratmen are very hardy and stout and can take hits and keep going thanks to their tougher bone structures. And they are by no means weak, they can hold their own in a fight of strnegth. Talents: Azzrix has been trained in the art of thievery since he was a very young child and as a teenager he began his assassin training, all of these have given him great skills in these fields. He is an incredibly fast climber and a great jumper, he once was able to clear a fifteen foot span from one roof top to another. Azzrix is an excellent swordsman and knife thrower, having trained in fancing and knife throwing since he was eight years old. He has also trained with light crossbows and is a very good marksmen. He is also an incredible unarmed combatant and thanks to his amazing agility Azzrix is amazingly evasiveness and can dodge extremely well. Azzrix is a great linguist and is excellent at learning and mastering languages. Magic: he has no magic impressions</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat didn't react when the dagger shot out of the wall, embedding itself in the floor next to her foot. It wasn't exactly the first time she'd used the wall for target practice. (It'd happened enough times that even Hel didn't jump to attention anymore.) Ignoring the glare Bernard sent her way, she pocketed the coin she was fiddling with and pushed herself up. After scooping up her dagger, Kat walked to the board, Hel following behind her. A job was probably what she needed to work off these nerves. "Ok, whaddya got this time?" she asked the priest in a bored voice.</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Priest] The young member of the church turned to Kat and smiled politely. "Oh, just a few lost-and-found missions. Nothing too big. The Remnants haven't been stirring up trouble lately," he explained, frowning as he began to think about it. "It's strange... you would think a village or two would have vanished over night. But our intel has been giving us reports of them just... hiding." Priest went on, thinking. "Nevertheless, I have been hearing strange rumors about an army rising in the South. I'm advising the High Cardinal to take a deeper look into it. Never before have I heard such a rumor being spoke with much accuracy and tenacity. So, keep a look out; in the mean time, when I finish here, come back and take a look at the board and see if there are any missions you'd be interested in doing." With that, Priest went about his duty and continued pinning up each job.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Viggo's left eye twitches in anger as he listened to the witch insulted his ability, taking a chip off of his monolithic ego. "The music comes from the guitar, you.. You slag!" he curses, still quietly plucking notes on the guitar, as though it's a coping mechanism of some sort. He takes a breath and relaxes in his posture, letting half of his face be curtained by his long brass hair, his expression transforms into more of a sneer as he releases some of his anger into his guitar strings. "Whatever" he shrugs, turning around and walking off with slow steps, "I don't need the opinions of women who're just jealous of magicians greater than themselves.." he jeers, passing by Bernard who smacks him on the crown on the head. Viggo rubs his head and glares at Bernard, deciding not to form a grudge given the power the barkeep seemingly possessed.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern "No, you know the rules, Margaret," Naida says as she grabs Sess's plate and immediately dishes him up some more stew. Then she notices the large ogre at her table and cringes. "But I'll let you use my employee discount just this once." She sets the bowl back down in front of Sess and heads back to the kitchen to make the pancakes herself. She quickly dishes up at least ten servings of pancakes and writes down the amount on Margaret's tab before swinging over to her table. She dishes out the load of pancakes before going back over to the bar to clean up slightly while business was low. She smiles at the Priest as he walks downstairs and starts pinning up some jobs on the job board. "Hey, Priest!" Naida says happily, giving him a toothy grin. "I might have put my own job up there. Sorry, I just thought it would be fun for some of the patrons in the tavern." She smiles at him and looks back over at Sessamaru. "Are you going to take one of those jobs?" she asks him. "I have exactly seen you leave the tavern in forever and I think some fresh air will do you good." She smiles at him and begins to wipe down the bar with a wet towel. She hovers a couple feet off the ground and looks at Sess expectantly.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Wats a pancake? Oh, bye." Drubbins says quickly as Viggo walks away before looking back at Margret. "Was he really castin' a spell on ya'? Dats bad, dats real bad. I kno' nuffin' 'bout magic, but a bloke doin' magic at ya' all secret like is always bad. Been done ta me a few times, blokes puttin' needles in me thinkin' bits. Used to not mind so much, 'cept now I'm tryin' ta use em more so anyone tryin' that again's gonna be gettin' a good krumpin'." It was around this time that Nadia rounds the table to make her delivery. The smell was nearly overwhelming as it lit up the insides of his nostrils. It was just as heavenly as he remembered, but he held back on digging in on account of them not being his. The blokes at the tables, though, hadn't complained when she'd brought them over. Did they not understand what these were, or were they just being polite to the blue bloke? They weren't eating. He decided to breach the subject. "Uhhhhh," he started, not really experienced with pointing out other peoples mistakes. He pointed down at the golden brown goodness piled on their table. "Dat bloke got it wrong." He said tentatively. "Them is flapjacks. Ya can tell 'cause, see, dere flat an stuff." He waited for a moment for this information to sink in properly, then decided to be bold. "Can I 'ave 'em?"</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire, about to accept the offer for a tour (and respond to Historia's comment), watched as new players entered the scene. Bringing with them a whirlwind of commotion. Arguing, tension, threats all being thrown around. Claire was tempted to try and stop things before they started, but she wouldn't know what to do. She wasn't the best speaker and getting physical would only aggravate the situation. Though before she could choose something to do, Historia herself took action instead. Claire watched her go and stand between both raging parties, but was drawn away for a moment by a loud thump. The white haired man who had pulsed magic earlier was being accosted by an old man."Amazing..." Claire said under her breath. She looked back just in time to see her brown haired acquaintance talking down the large knight, and one armed hunter. She quickly returned and apologized for her absence. After Mysaren gave her response, Claire too took the chance. "No need to apologize." The small swords-woman added with the faintest of smiles. "I too would appreciate a tour." She added, her attention once again wandering. A man had entered, this time bringing with him a sense of positive energy. He went about placing papers up on a board, Claire noted the word 'job.' Perhaps there was a chance of her making some gold nearby...She still needed a concrete place to stay after all. On the topic of money and business, the rat-like creature who had paid for all their meals and drink approached the trio. Claire gave a small bow in response ot his. He seemed...Decent. "Thank you for the meal." Claire replied to him after he was done speaking. She was truly glad he had done that, paid for everything. She was low on survival funds.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Thank y'kindly." The Lizard returned the courtesy to the Sprite. But once that was over with, he wasted no time in grabbing the glass given and downing the entire thing in one go; it wasn't exactly unusual for him to drink his fruit juice in such a way. Only problem was, after he drunk it, he felt an almost electrical jolt of energy course through his entire body, making him shiver and widen his eyes. If he had hairs, they'd all be standing on end. This wasn't a bad thing, however, because to comprehend what he saw next, he'd need to be awake as possible. A boy... girl... thing in a white overcoat typically worn by human religious missionaries burst into the bar and started talking all rainbows and cupcakes. S/he did this all the way up to, and on the other side of, the bar, a little too close for comfort. Rimau looked on with even wider eyes and a blank expression of bewilderment. Then he said to the wo/man: "Huh... ain't seen you 'round 'ere before, kid." What especially confused him here was that no-one else seemed to react the same way he did. Maybe s/he was a regular, but he wouldn't know, since he only discovered the ostensibly legendary bar less than a week ago. Could just be another sign of its apparent weirdness. "...What's yer deal?" He continued, licking the inside of his mouth to get the most out of his juice. "...Y'part o' the Church o' Happy-ology or somethin'? Y'act like that on a day-to-day basis, there's good odds some'un'll turn yer face into a modern art masterpiece, let alone 'convert'!" He propelled up and slightly over the bar to add weight to that last part, but he couldn't hide the little grin on his face. He sat back down to let the remark sink in for a bit, before waiting for the best opportunity to start laughing, allowing his little grin to pop open. "...Baahhh, I'm just messin' with ya! ...B'seriously, though..." He added, changing his expression to a solemn and serious one almost cartoonishly quickly; something that took a bit of practice, it seemed. "...That cheerful stuff creeps folks out, kid. Makes people think y'tryin' to... do somethin'. Like, y'got an agenda. No-one is 'at 'appy normally 'cept a slimy lil' hatchlin' fresh from the shell. Makes it cute in kind of er... never mind, it's a Zizz thing." What proved interesting now, though, was the bits of paper s/he was pinning to the wall. He once again tried to stretch his upper body over the bar to get a closer look, his view obscured by the mass of people milling about like... a mass of people.</s>	<\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix gave a bigger smile when Mysaren and Claire thanked him for the drinks and asked him what business that he had in mind. "I am looking for people to go on missions with and I am pretty sure that some will come up soon. I am perfectly fine with doing them myself, but I find having a group to aid you is much better for health than doing them alone. So if any of you are interested in going on a mission then I am perfectly fine with you coming along with me. There would be riches to be had and the promise of glory." he said to them calmly. He was hoping to find allies to make doing the tougher missions easier, his family may have liked a challenge, but they weren't stupid. "Remember Azzrix, if you can have assistance in job with a person you can trust then always have it." Azzrix remembered his dad telling him that when he was a young child learning how to be an expert thief.</s>
<\|description\|>Azzrix Grimmor Race: Ratman Gender: male Age: 20 Occupation: gentleman Thief, noble, he is also intraining to become an assassin Personality/Interests: at first glance Azzrix seems laid back and not really caring, but that is not the case. He is a firm believer in the term blood is thicker than water, to him his family and their honor is most important to him. This a trait that most of his family. In terms of alignment Azzrix is lawful neutral. He is a devout follower in his family's codes of thievery and assassination. Honor his very important to him and unless he is doing an assassination Azzrix will almost never stab someone in the back both literally and figuratively. Azzrix has no qualms with killing to make his reputation as an assassin known throughout the land. Vengeance is another trait of his personality and he will not think twice before getting revenge on those who have greatly offended. He can be good fun when he is not on mission and is willing to have a nice drink and talk with anyone who isn't an enemy. Despite his deceptive nature, Azzrix is very loyal to his friends and allies, he will never betray a friend or ally unless they have betrayed him. Azzrix also has a superiority complex and thinks of himself as being the greatest thief in the world and superior to people outside of his family. Even though he thinks extremely highly of his skills, he will still be willing to learn new skills and techniques in thievery. He is extremely persuasive and deceptive, which has helped him become a gentlemen thief. Azzrix believes that deceiving and talking right is just as an important aspect of thievery as sneakiness is. If you insult his family then he he will kill you or maim you badly for your dishonorable words. Mentally he is very smart and extremely cunning. Azzrix is not someone you want to get into a battle of wits with and he will try to always think up another plan if the last one fails thanks to great skill in multitasking. His family code states that that he cannot steal from or assassinate the poor. His family believe that a proper challenge offers more fame and fortune, and Azzrix follows this code to the letter. Appearance: He looks like an anthropomorphic rat and is very well groomed and carries himself like a noble. Details Body build: he very well built, he is short but he has the muscles to go toe to toe with bigger opponents. His legs are of the right proportion to give him great agility evasiveness Hair: fur Hair color: blueish gray Skin color: bluish gray Eye/Iris color: blue Height/Weight: five feet and five inches tall Notable Features: he has a crescent moon mark on his cheek. Clothing Description: he is from a noble family so his clothes are very well made and he could blend in perfectly as a socialite. Equipment Weapon(s) Rapier Parrying Dagger hand crossbow Throwing Knives Powers: he can communicate with and command rats. Abilities: Ratmen are excellent climbers and have incredible senses especially sight and smell and are able to see in the dark. They also are extremely agile and can barely make a sound while running. Ratmen are very hardy and stout and can take hits and keep going thanks to their tougher bone structures. And they are by no means weak, they can hold their own in a fight of strnegth. Talents: Azzrix has been trained in the art of thievery since he was a very young child and as a teenager he began his assassin training, all of these have given him great skills in these fields. He is an incredibly fast climber and a great jumper, he once was able to clear a fifteen foot span from one roof top to another. Azzrix is an excellent swordsman and knife thrower, having trained in fancing and knife throwing since he was eight years old. He has also trained with light crossbows and is a very good marksmen. He is also an incredible unarmed combatant and thanks to his amazing agility Azzrix is amazingly evasiveness and can dodge extremely well. Azzrix is a great linguist and is excellent at learning and mastering languages. Magic: he has no magic impressions</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon NaidaBlue Moon Tavern Naida rolls her eyes as Sess asks for another bowl. She quickly dishes him some more, this time adding a little fairy dust to it so it will quell his hunger for at least a good hour, and says, "Alright, great! You and I can do a job together. I get to choose." She sets the bowl down in front of him, sticking her tongue out at him in a childish way as she does, and flits over to the job board, hovering above most of the people's heads. She notices one that looks very interesting and pulls it down off the board. Taken She reads the description quickly and flits back over to Sess, showing him the job. "How's this one? I think I know the daughter; I've seen her in here with her parents more than once." She then notices that it says that the island is on the river nearby. She smiles, delighted. It has been a long time since she has been in her mermaid form and she fears that she would die of withdrawal if she were to go any longer. "If we do this job, we need to stop by my house before we head out," she tells Sess. "Ileft my bow and arrows back there, along with a few of my knives. I hope that's alright." Her eyes scan over the paper again, curious on how much the reward is. It doesn't say, but from what she has seen from the parents, they are quite rich. She looks over at Bernard and says, "Hey, Bernard! I might be leaving a little early today." She grins at him and holds up the paper. "Gotta job to do."</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Sess swiftly continues to eat the stew, slowing down when he noticed a strange new flavor, almost like an exotic spice. The swordsman looked at the bowl, then to Naida. With a sigh and a shrug, he finished the new dish and wandered away into the kitchen. There was a commotion, a lot of yelling from the chef, and the kitchen door explodes open with Sessamaru running out of it, holding a giant pot full of the stew. "Miss Naida! Let's go!" He cried, fearing for his life whilst being chased by the chef and the other cooks. The cooks and chef began to throw objects at the fleeing Sess, who chugged the pot down while running, each object miraculously missing him. Dropping the now empty pot, the swordsman reached the door and left the tavern, leaving Naida to her own devices.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen looked hard at the priest. He shifted his gaze to the wall behind him. There were several papers attached to it. "Okay thank you," he replied curtly to the man. Other people seemed to be trying to talk to the priest so Rouen maneuvered around them to look at the board. He searched the wall with a finger for anything mentioning a cave. "A help board? Well that is a new idea," he thought looking at the variety of requests. Many of the requests seemed juvenile, like petty thievery or missing pets. They were jobs meant for squires and the local guard force. Things that were of no interest to Rouen at all. He found what the priest was talking about."A cave eh? Well hopefully I get the luck of the draw this time around," he thought. "I wouldn't be surprised if what this priest thinks a remnant is turned out to be another overgrown solitary fay creature." Rouen had searched many caves, abandoned houses, and valleys in the past nine months of travelling. Most of them were just that. Caves, abandoned houses, and valleys. Occasionally he would run into some fay creature like an ogre or harpy. Even then the majority of them were fairly harmless. None had actual Remnants. He sighed, "Well this is the only information I have so far, maybe it will actually lead me somewhere."However, as he turned around a smile grew on his face. "Back to the field," he thought happily thinking of this next part of his journey. The field was a term he used for where the action occurs. It was where battles took place, quests were completed, and history happens. Rouen didn't care if this cave turned out to be just some abandoned spookhole. He was a knight. The field, whether it be some cave, castle, forest, or a plain landscape was his duty. It was where he found his purpose. He walked toward the bar where there was an empty bowl of soup and half a mug of ale. Shuffling through his pouch he put down two silver coins. Looking at the big man who looked like the bartender Rouen said, "This should cover the stew," he said. He then put another silver coin down, "And this is for the lady. Please pass on my compliments." He turned and it looked like people in the bar seemed to be crowding over the message board. "So many people willing to help each other. This may be a fay tavern but the community seems to be healthy. It must be the human aspect," he thought. His eyes shifted to some of the more conspicuous folks. There was a woman wearing a robe made of a swirl of vibrant colors. "She must be important, I've only seen diplomats and high nobility wear such expensive gowns," he thought and couldn't help but admire her figure. He next looked at the one-armed village girl and glared. "Bah, someone will teach her manners one day. I shouldn't overreact like that again, it is beneath my station," he thought. Smile on his face, Rouen turned towards the tavern door and began to walk onto the road.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen After his little spat with the witch, Viggo swung by the bar, sitting down on a stool nearby his iced bucket of beer bottles. He uncorked one with his teeth and quickly consumed its contents, resting his idle hand flat on his guitars strings. Once sated, the guitarist stood again, wiping his lips with this thumb, and cast his gaze in the direction of Rouen who had been looking over the various contracts pinned to the large message board. With a huff, Viggo pushed himself off his seat and made his way over to the board to see if he could find something to do. Viggo poured over the messages, rolling his eyes at more than one. "Boo hoo, you lost a dog.. Buy a new one.." he uttered quietly while hunched forward to pour over the rest of the notices. At last, his eyes fixated on one that seemed worthy of his talents. After noting the details to memory, Viggo moved towards the bar, whistling to get Bernard's attention. "Hey, Bernie, what's the deal with this daughter situation. The island quest, with the uh, disgusting tribespeople" he would question, leaning forward onto the bar, having swung his guitar behind his back once more.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon NaidaBlue Moon Tavern Naida stares after Sess as he runs out the door, mouth agape, before slamming her palm into her forehead and dragging it down her face with an exasperated sigh. "You've got to be kidding," she murmurs to herself. She quickly helps the cooks and chefs pick up their things, apologizing profusely for her friend's behavior before grabbing the job and flying toward the door. She sees Sessamaru walking farther up and she sighs. She probably isn't going to be able to get him to go toward her house. She begins to fly slightly above the ground before she flies over to her house rapidly. Not bothering to go in through the door, she flies in through the window she always keeps open. She quickly grabs her quiver of arrows and her wooden bow that she got from her mother's former friends. She stares at the bow for a brief moment, tears beginning to form at the edge of her eyes. She quickly wipes them away and pulls the quiver and bow over her shoulders. She then walks over to her closet and pulls out a few knives, shoving them in her boots. She then grabs her dark blue head back and pushes her hair back out of her face. She is about to fly back out the window when she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She notices the scar on her stomach, slightly exposed under her mid-length cropped t-shirt. She sighs, running her hand along it for a moment before she flits back out then window in a dash of fairy dust and glitter. She flies above the road for a brief moment before she sees Sess still walking down the road. She flies down and lands next to him, still gripping the job in her hand. She shakes herself a little bit and smiles at him. "So, you ready?"</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske In response to Priest's concerns, Tahira expressed her agreement with a polite nod. While she appeared distant and mysterious to some, it were those very qualities which would point the astute observer to one of her defining traits, caution. If the priest thought the mission was too difficult to perform alone, she would seek out at least one partner to join her on the job, despite their potential to get in the way of her own scholarly interests in the gem. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long to find a prospective partner. As Rouen walked away from the board, and others came and went, Kat stepped up and pulled down the Arcane Collective's flyer. Glancing at her leopard, she said "Wanna kill some Drakas?" Although the question had not been directed at her, Tahira stepped closer and provided her own answer. "If you seek another partner to accompany you, I am quite interested in this quest," while speaking, she turned her eyes from Kat to Hel and back, as if addressing them both. She had not had much interaction with these two, as they did not stray near the library in which she spent most of her time, but they had proven themselves capable trackers from what she had heard.</s>	<\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix heard their responses and was slightly disappointed that Mysaren wasn't interested in going on missions with him yet, but he decided that he would have to wait for some other time. Azzrix excused himself to go look at the mission board and then he overheard Naida talking about a mission to find the daughter of a patron to the tavern who had gone missing. Azzrix also heard her mention the possibility of the patron being rich and he became even more interested. He then noticed a commotion going on in the kitchen and saw the weird dog like man run out with a pot of stew with the cooks screaming at him as he fled. Azzrix shook his head at the foolishness of the man, he would make a terrible thief if that's what he thought was worth stealing. Azzrix was interested in the mission so he followed them to wherever they were headed. He decided to follow Naida and soon saw that she was headed back to her home. Azzrix thought that it would be best to quickly go get his things. He quickly headed back to the place where he was staying to get his things and change his clothes. Once in his room he put on his darker robes and traveling cloak which were his thieving clothes when he wasn't robbing people in plain sight. Azzrix attached his rapier and Parrying Dagger to his belt and got his throwing knives and hand crossbow. Once he got the arrows for his crossbow Azzrix left his home and went look for Naida. He eventually found her waiting around and walked up to her calmly. "If you don't mind I would like to partake in this mission, a person with my kind of talents would be a great asset on a mission like this" he said to her with a polite tone to his voice.</s>
<\|description\|>Azzrix Grimmor Race: Ratman Gender: male Age: 20 Occupation: gentleman Thief, noble, he is also intraining to become an assassin Personality/Interests: at first glance Azzrix seems laid back and not really caring, but that is not the case. He is a firm believer in the term blood is thicker than water, to him his family and their honor is most important to him. This a trait that most of his family. In terms of alignment Azzrix is lawful neutral. He is a devout follower in his family's codes of thievery and assassination. Honor his very important to him and unless he is doing an assassination Azzrix will almost never stab someone in the back both literally and figuratively. Azzrix has no qualms with killing to make his reputation as an assassin known throughout the land. Vengeance is another trait of his personality and he will not think twice before getting revenge on those who have greatly offended. He can be good fun when he is not on mission and is willing to have a nice drink and talk with anyone who isn't an enemy. Despite his deceptive nature, Azzrix is very loyal to his friends and allies, he will never betray a friend or ally unless they have betrayed him. Azzrix also has a superiority complex and thinks of himself as being the greatest thief in the world and superior to people outside of his family. Even though he thinks extremely highly of his skills, he will still be willing to learn new skills and techniques in thievery. He is extremely persuasive and deceptive, which has helped him become a gentlemen thief. Azzrix believes that deceiving and talking right is just as an important aspect of thievery as sneakiness is. If you insult his family then he he will kill you or maim you badly for your dishonorable words. Mentally he is very smart and extremely cunning. Azzrix is not someone you want to get into a battle of wits with and he will try to always think up another plan if the last one fails thanks to great skill in multitasking. His family code states that that he cannot steal from or assassinate the poor. His family believe that a proper challenge offers more fame and fortune, and Azzrix follows this code to the letter. Appearance: He looks like an anthropomorphic rat and is very well groomed and carries himself like a noble. Details Body build: he very well built, he is short but he has the muscles to go toe to toe with bigger opponents. His legs are of the right proportion to give him great agility evasiveness Hair: fur Hair color: blueish gray Skin color: bluish gray Eye/Iris color: blue Height/Weight: five feet and five inches tall Notable Features: he has a crescent moon mark on his cheek. Clothing Description: he is from a noble family so his clothes are very well made and he could blend in perfectly as a socialite. Equipment Weapon(s) Rapier Parrying Dagger hand crossbow Throwing Knives Powers: he can communicate with and command rats. Abilities: Ratmen are excellent climbers and have incredible senses especially sight and smell and are able to see in the dark. They also are extremely agile and can barely make a sound while running. Ratmen are very hardy and stout and can take hits and keep going thanks to their tougher bone structures. And they are by no means weak, they can hold their own in a fight of strnegth. Talents: Azzrix has been trained in the art of thievery since he was a very young child and as a teenager he began his assassin training, all of these have given him great skills in these fields. He is an incredibly fast climber and a great jumper, he once was able to clear a fifteen foot span from one roof top to another. Azzrix is an excellent swordsman and knife thrower, having trained in fancing and knife throwing since he was eight years old. He has also trained with light crossbows and is a very good marksmen. He is also an incredible unarmed combatant and thanks to his amazing agility Azzrix is amazingly evasiveness and can dodge extremely well. Azzrix is a great linguist and is excellent at learning and mastering languages. Magic: he has no magic impressions</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nodded along slightly as Historia explained for her. She looked at the page, as if she was gaining the information from there, but she was only listening inventively. After Historia was finished explaining, Claire was about to agree to the mission, but Historia added another comment on the end. Claire's eye twitched when she registered the offer. "I..." She let her mouth hanging open a tiny bit. Searching for a word yet again. "I would like that..." She concluded, replying to both the job offer, and the future assistance. "And...thank you." She added softly. She tried again to give a smile. It was there, though quite faint. "Shall we...leave soon?" She gestured towards the door. She didn't have anything else to do, other than pick up her bag. If she was working alone she would have been on the road already, though she did tend to jump ahead when it came to acting and not thinking.</s> <\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era [timeskip; after breakfast] Several of the patrons left the Tavern in pursuit of missions the Priest had put up. Saha left her seat at the table to read the list of jobs available, at a short distance away from the gathered crowd. None interested her, and more importantly, they sounded too dangerous for her current state before she had regained full strength. The Big Guy hollered with a piece of notice that he held in a giant hand. "It said a couple lost their pet dog - a yellow mutt, goes by "Peanut", that's all - to be returned to 8 Bright Avenue, a red house in town. There's a reward, doesn't say how much or what it is." Saha appraised the Big Guy: he looked strong and intimidating, stupid as ogres were, but he seemed nice-natured enough that she could use his strength to serve as protection as well as to get the simple job done. "Do you want to do this mission with me? I think you're just the right bloke for the job," she complimented. "We better bring some food to bait the mutt," she said, from years of experience in trying to get close to animals as a Naga, and ordered a piece of steak to go from Bernard.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Dogs like me." Said Drubbins happily at the snake bloke. He had no idea what Da Boss would want a dog returned to someone, but that was normal. Da Boss asks you to punch down a building you don't ask what's inside. Da Boss wants every slime in the area gathered up and shoved behind the same door, you don't ask why. Da Boss asks you to chop off your hand and let your blood spill into the stone circle, you ask "how much blood would ya like, Boss?" He was also happy to have someone to come with him. Most Bosses didn't trust Drubbins to handle anything more complex than krumping a bloke on his own, and most of them at least sent someone to make sure he'd Krumped the right bloke. He thumped his chest, threw the rest of the pancakes directly into his mouth, and garbled "You point me at dat Peanut and dat 'ouse and I'll do da rest."</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren "Oh, I understand. Uhm, you can borrow my cloak if you want, you know. I don't mind." Even if Rimau was tough, Mysaren didn't want to have to deal with a pissy Zizz all the way up some mountains. She could live without the cloak, being pretty used to the cold. Her cloak was mostly just to disguise herself, make her blend in a bit, but it also helped with self esteem issues. She scratched her arm idly. "I'm not a huge fan of mountains either, of course, but, well, hopefully the reward makes up for it," Maybe she could actually buy some form of transportation, a horse or a cart or something with the prize money. "Besides, a bunch of idiots who decided to hide up in the mountains shouldn't take us that long to dispatch, of course. We'll be out of there in no time." She didn't exactly know that, of course, but bandits and robbers weren't generally the smartest of people, especially if they left enough evidence for them to know where they were hiding, even if it was just a vague area. Mysaren followed Rimau to the door, and frowned when she poked her head out, and turned back in. Inside the tavern looked bright and well lit, sun streaming through the windows, but outside was overcast and dreary. She coughed as she poked her head out, and looked at the mountains Rimau was pointing at. "Yes, that should be it. Hm, doesn't seem too too far away. Even then, there has to be some form of trail up there if the robbers were able to get up there so fast. Hopefully it won't be that hard to find where they're hiding."</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Outside the Blue Moon Naida does not care of Azzrix comes along, but she does care about her share of the reward. Consider that he is a thief, he might wind up cheating them out of their share. But as Sessamaru says that he can come along, she has no argument against it. She begins walking again, looking down at the job. "So it says that the daughter is being held on the island out in the river by the Blue Moon. I know what river they speak of in this job, but I do not know which island. There are three islands on the river." She furrows her brown and looks at Sessamaru. "It doesn't matter anyways if neither of you can swim fast enough to keep up with me. Would either of you like for me to scout ahead see if I can find out which of the islands this poor girl is on?" As she is speaking, she hears the rush of the river and she can't help herself. She rushes toward the sound and stands at the very edge of a cliff that overhangs the water. She stares down at the water, a little bit of fear crossing over her mind. The last time that she had set foot in the water was three years ago, which was the last time that she had seen her father. As soon as she would set foot in the water, he would know that she had come back. But when she doesn't know is if he will come searching for her. She takes a deep breath and smiles back at Sess and the new fellow. That is a risk that she will have to take. She sucks in a little more air and steps off the cliff. There is no point in flapping her wings; the best way to have fun at getting turned into her mermaid form is just to drop into it. The icy cold water splashes up around her and she shivers slightly, but the change is imminent. She feels her legs meld together into one form and her wings shoot down her spine to her legs, enveloping her legs in a bluish silvery glow. Before long, she has a long, bluish silver tail flipping around underneath her. She smiles, unable to contain her joy, and she swims as fast as she can toward the surface, which is well a top of her now. She leaps out of the water like a dolphin, giving an excited whoop as she does. She then lands back in the water and floats on top of the surface, smiling up at Sess and Azzrix. "Come on, you guys! The water is amazing!"</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Well, if we're goin' by the assumption that these dumbasses came from town..." Rimau said, choosing to politely ignore the topic of mountains any further before it became distracting. "...They prob'ly used this road right 'ere." Rimau stepped outside, into the purely natural, gritty air of the outdoors, and 'sweeped' his pointed hand along the road towards the mountains. "...I mean, sure, they mighta been the show-off type an' scaled some walls, but roads tend to be the only viable way up mountains. F'good reason." Rimau proceeded to take a few strides down the cobbled road, in the direction of the mountain gate, and turned back to Mysaren, who he assumed was still inside. "...Unless y'got any other plans, I suggest we get goin'. Uh, no pressure, though. Those dumbasses are prob'ly makin' a mess o' their britches just thinkin' about retribution right now, heheh." With that, Rimau grabbed the sides of his goggles and slid them over his eyes; the sign that he was now in 'work' mode. Which reminded him; 'must remember to take that medicine when we get there. Last thing I need is a repeat o' the last Plat'num troll hunt... geez, maybe I'm gettin' too old f'this. ...Naaaah.' He finalised that line of thought with another devilish grin.</s>	<\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was glad that the dog-like man was fine with him going with them on their mission and for once it seemed like he didn't have to use a lot of excellent persuasion skills to come along. He now thought of what was to come, if it was a kidnapping that they were dealing with then there was a good chance for combat, which made Azzrix smile a bit as he thought of getting a chance to show off his great swordsmanship. Azzrix listened to Naida explain the layout of the land and upon hearing that they would have to swim to the island he groaned. Azzrix knew how to swim, but he didn't like having to get his thief clothing wet and who knew how deep the river. He didn't voice any objection and after Naida asked she could scout ahead he watched her jump into the water and looked to be having the time of her life. Under different certumstances Azzrix would have laughed, but right now he was being very serious. "Is the water very deep and how far are the islands? I don't fancy drowning today" he replied to her, hesitant to jump into the water.</s>
<\|description\|>Drubbins Race: Ogre Gender: Male Age: 56 Occupation: As close to a professional henchmen as anyone is ever likely to get. Personality/Interests Drubbins is what would politely be called "simple." This is actually quite intelligent for an ogre as he's figured out that not krumpin' every last living thing he sees to eat there flesh and tender marrow is the best way to get ahead in the world. He's generally got no will of his own, willing to follow the orders of whomever he deems to be "Da Boss" (normally whomever is currently feeding him) no matter what those orders may be. He figures this is the best way to live because he, bein' not so smart n'all, will always make wrong decisions. This blind faith makes him steadfast, loyal, and very very gullible when it comes to his boss and anyone the boss puts in charge of him. When he's not doing something for the boss he enjoys the typical ogre activities of eatin' and drinkin', and the not so typical ogre activity of thinkin'. He's actually quite the philosopher for an ogre, and sits thinkin' and listenin' to the smart people talk in the hopes of one day becoming smart himself. Details [i]Body build: Thick. Arms and legs like tree trunks, with arms so long they drag along the ground. Fat with muscle. Hair: None. Hair color: None. He has no hair, that's trolls. Skin color: Mottled grey Eye/Iris color: Red Height/Weight: 8ft tall/Heavy Notable Features: Pronounced underbite, sharp jagged teeth visible covering his upper lip. Long, sharp, black nails on his fingers and toes. Body is covered in badly healed scars and he has a hatched head embedded in his skull. Clothing Description A large ragged kilt held on by a leather strap that goes over his shoulder. Equipment Black iron wristbands on both arms. Weapon(s) Generally the heaviest thing around he can pick up. Powers Weirdly lucky. Abilities Super strength, Super endurance, thick leathery hide that can shrug off most normal human blows. Talents Just throwing things. He's gotten really really good at throwing things over the years, he's got excellent aim. Magic None Sessamaru: Dis dog bloke, he seems like a boss, right? 'Sept he's just knockin' about like me, innie? Where's he live? Historia: Bird bloke, always doin' somefing for a boss. Like me. Saha: Don't see many snake blokes 'round here. Don't see many ogres either. Hmmm...likes drinkin'. Seems awright, for a snake bloke. Katelia: Oh wait, ders an ogre. No. 'Old on. Dat's a person. Someone krumped him good. Was it da pet? Wish I had a pet. Wanna see who's gots more scars? Dats a fun game. Julio: Tiny bird bloke. Put him behind me when dey kick in da door. Feels nice, bein' 'round him. Azzrix: Quick little git like dis take off wif half da bosses gubbins when fings go bad. I'm watching you, quick little git. Margaret: Don't trust witches no more. Dey can put needles in yer thinkin' bits. Don't put needles in my thinkin' bit witch, or I'll krump ya. Naida: Bar bloke. Make's nice music. Talks to me in my thinkin' bits. I don't like it, but I won't tell him that 'cause I like him. Mysaren: Feel comfortable 'round this bloke. Somefing about him's, ya know, where you remember somefing and it gives ya a feelin'? Slike dat. Tahira: Give em' a house and some boys and dis'ed be a proper boss ta have. Rimau: Dis is da type a boy ya want widcha when dey kick in da doors. Or just standin' 'round lookin' big. Or Lookin' for somefing. Or someone. Point is, da type a boy you want 'round. Claire: Tiny bloke. Scary bloke. Good bloke to have 'round. Viggo: Git. Makes nice music, but then krumps it with dat loud stuff. What'se for? Rouen: Have I krumped this bloke before? Maybe he was doin' the krumpin'. Not sure. Heads fuzzy. Dis is da sort of bloke that ends up kickin' in da door. Felan: I ain't never seen a dog dat big before! Noooo, stop bein' a git. Go back ta bein' a dog.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen Malmsteen exits the lavatory, readjusting his belt as he looks at the newly repopulated tavern. His cruel gaze falls upon each member of the tavern in turn, judging everyone silently as he makes his way to the makeshift stage in the corner of the main floor. Grabbing a small stool as he passes, Viggo climbs onto the stage and takes his guitar off his back, saddling it across his chest. Once on stage, the pale musician sits and sheds his heavy black-leather jacket, letting it crumple to the ground behind him. Clearing his throat once, Viggo begins to tune his instrument, letting the strings twang softly as their pitch raises and lowers. After a few minutes of housekeeping, Viggo runs his calloused palm across the neck of his remarkable guitar, and begins to play. The melody is plucky and sharp, but has a certain harmony to it. The song rises and falls as Viggo's fingers climb up and down the neck of his instrument, his blond hair cascading forward and hiding his face as he continues to play the tune. The sophistication of the jaunty little ballad would inspire a foot-tap from anyone in a decent enough mood, and generally provides the otherwise quiet establishment with a pleasant and relaxing atmosphere. 'I bet none of these losers even recognise this as Zwelf's Fourth Ballad' he thinks to himself as he continues to play, 'Bah, to hell with such thoughts, I don't need their compliments or musical taste, only their coin...' he muses quietly, grinning as he continues to pluck at his fantastical guitar. After a little while, his song concludes, giving Viggo a chance to kick forward a small pail with a few shillings and silver pieces in it.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia glanced over at the door when she heard...she thought her name was Miss Katelia and the....big...cat Hel...Historia shuddered slightly. She had had enough of cats for today...So she turned her attention right back to the woman that she had sat down beside. "Claire, that's a nice name." Historia said with a smile. She looked over to Miss Claire again. There was something on her that didn't look weathered, which was the sash around Miss Claire's waist. It was a really pretty sash, and it made Historia wonder if perhaps it had some sort of special meaning to Miss Claire or if she just really liked it. "As for food," Historia said, responding to what Miss Claire told her, "I was thinking of ordering some myself in a minute." She added before turning around to Miss Mysaren. Historia didn't really notice before that she smelled a bit...funny...and she was covered in dirt...Perhaps she was a grave digger or something like that? "Will you be ordering something yourself?" Historia asked her. No sooner had Historia asked that though, did Historia notice that there was some music playing. She looked slightly past Miss Mysaren to see a man playing on the little makeshift stage. The tune was lovely, though Historia didn't know if it was a common tune or if the musician had written it himself as she was still getting used to this country. Historia then turned her full attention back to Miss Mysaren, deciding that perhaps she would talk with the musician later.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren Location: Blue Moon Tavern Mysaren looked up at Historia, smiling again. "Hm? Oh, uhm, probably just a drink or two," She said, seeing no reason to lie. She'd left behind that part of her self, or at least, she liked to think she did. "I was actually looking to get a room here for a while." She was still a bit intimidated by the bartender, owner, who ever he was. He seemed to be able to look through everything about her, and it made her a bit twitchy. She felt her stomach flip at the smell of food cooking, and she hadn't eaten in a while, but she couldn't afford it, not if she wanted to get a room. She'd have to sell off her loot soon, or she may have to live off of whatever she can find for a while. She heard the music start, and turned her head to watch the man playing perform. He wasn't bad, she had to admit. She wasn't a fan, but there was skill, she could appreciate that much. She turned back around after a while though, only half listening. The tune almost sounded familiar, but she couldn't put a name to it. She sighed, desperate for a drink and a nice, hot meal.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern A ruckus could be heard outside the tavern, banging and rumbling. Suddenly, the doors to the tavern burst inward and a shower of glitter follows behind a speeding streak of blue and white. Naida skids to a stop in the middle of the tavern and looks around with a large smile on her face. "Woah! Fast start to a day huh?!" she says rapidly, looking around. "Sorry I'm late!" She flies over to counter, pulling on her skirt apron and giving Bernard a kiss on the cheek. "Hey Bernard baby!" Her silvery blue and white hair flies about her head as some of the people at the counter begin shouting orders at her. She smiles quickly and says, "Coming right up!" She whips out a drink mixer and begins to pour the orders, pouring faster than any normal bartender could go. She pushes the drinks down the bar to the customers and she grins again. Before Bernard can even ask, Naida is out at the tables, taking orders and moving faster than those other waitresses could even go. She smiles at each of the customers and gives them each her best attention. "You want an omelet? Sure! I can whip that up in a jiff. What about you, hun? A bloodied steak? Coming right up!" Moving as a blur, she flits back over to the kitchen and shouts orders to the cook before turning around and smiling at Bernard again. "I think that makes up for a little of my tardiness, don't you think?" Before he can answer again, she wanders back over to the bar and looks around. She notices Historia in the corner and yells, "Hey darling! Glad to see ya here!" She also notices that she's talking to a new girl and says, "Hey, girly! You look great!" She turns back to Bernard and asks, "Has the demon been in yet?" She chuckles kindheartedly, thinking of Kat. She should really begin to try to get along with her, but she really can't. It's in her nature. She looks around and notices Sessamaru in a corner, hovering above the ground. She grins and, moving quietly, she walks over to him sneakily. "Hiya, Sess!" she says loudly, right next to his ear.</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf .</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix had a large bag full of going coins on his belt, this was thanks to his latest thievery from a greedy noble who had unfairly taxed the peasants and robbed them of their money. While he didn't give a single bit of care at the unfairness that was done to the peasants, he did however like stealing the man's money and got a laugh when he heard the man's screams of anger upon seeing that he had been robbed. Azzrix was now going to celebrate his success with his thievery. He came to the Blue Moon Tavern as the early lights of the morning began to come over the horizon, and Azzrix wanted to get a drink and was willing to share his wealth with the lucky people who were in the tavern at the time. He grinned at the thought of having the best food that the business could over and he was going drink till he fell to the floor. He quickly walked up to the tavern and came with a loud boom as he made the door bang open, and he gave them all a smile. Azzrix held up his bag of gold coins and shook it making it create a jingling noise. "Bartender! A plate of your finest meat and cheese and drinks for me and everyone in here! I am here to celebrate my recent amass of wealth." he said to everyone with a big smile. He hoped that this act of generosity would make him liked among the tavern goers and help get him some allies in case a mission came up that he would need assistance with.</s>	<\|message\|>Drubbins A few minutes pass before the door opens again. However, none of the fresh morning light seems to make its way inside. There's something blocking its passage completely. A single massive arm works its way inside, grabbing the top of the door frame as the being ducks its head to poke into the room. Its head seems small in comparison to its everything else as it twists its body to the side to slide through the door. It almost seems to explode into the room, the scarred pale skin of its bulk suddenly taking up the entire entryway as it draws itself to full height and casts its gaze about the room. This sudden appearance seems to shock those near the door into inaction as it takes three loud lumbering stride and opens its black toothed maw to speak. "A bloke told me," He calls out over the music in a deep, rumbly voice that seems to climb all the way up from his gut. "Dat dere was people what would deal with me here!" He'd heard that very clearly from that fancy bloke near the city gate. He'd turned to this other bloke as soon as Drubbins had walked past their carriage and said it. Blue Moon Tavern. He'd even gone back to ask that bloke, but couldn't get a proper answer on account of the bloke going very still when he'd come up to the window. But just a name was better than nothing, especially when he'd been wandering for what felt like a good long time with no one to tell him what to do. There were the problems of not knowing where the tavern was, and not knowing how he'd know when he saw it on account of him not being able to read, but fortune smiled on him as he made his way through the sleepy streets. He'd seen something come from around a corner and streak past him down a side street, something that was awfully blue, and figured whatever that was must be going to a place called the Blue Moon Tavern. He was really proud of putting that one together. That was an example of good thinkin'. He'd taken off after whatever it was as fast as he could, which was deceptively fast for a creature his size. It was a benefit of being so tall and not having to worry about anyone getting in your way. The thing he was chasing though was so fast he'd only caught sight of the tail end of it a few times. If its route hadn't taken it down a few long streets he would have lost it completely. But with luck he'd kept up and saw it streak into this building, which turned out to be full of blokes who looked like they were celebrating something. They were probably the boss of this places boys. Speaking of which... "Somebody point me to Da Boss!"</s>
<\|description\|>Drubbins Race: Ogre Gender: Male Age: 56 Occupation: As close to a professional henchmen as anyone is ever likely to get. Personality/Interests Drubbins is what would politely be called "simple." This is actually quite intelligent for an ogre as he's figured out that not krumpin' every last living thing he sees to eat there flesh and tender marrow is the best way to get ahead in the world. He's generally got no will of his own, willing to follow the orders of whomever he deems to be "Da Boss" (normally whomever is currently feeding him) no matter what those orders may be. He figures this is the best way to live because he, bein' not so smart n'all, will always make wrong decisions. This blind faith makes him steadfast, loyal, and very very gullible when it comes to his boss and anyone the boss puts in charge of him. When he's not doing something for the boss he enjoys the typical ogre activities of eatin' and drinkin', and the not so typical ogre activity of thinkin'. He's actually quite the philosopher for an ogre, and sits thinkin' and listenin' to the smart people talk in the hopes of one day becoming smart himself. Details [i]Body build: Thick. Arms and legs like tree trunks, with arms so long they drag along the ground. Fat with muscle. Hair: None. Hair color: None. He has no hair, that's trolls. Skin color: Mottled grey Eye/Iris color: Red Height/Weight: 8ft tall/Heavy Notable Features: Pronounced underbite, sharp jagged teeth visible covering his upper lip. Long, sharp, black nails on his fingers and toes. Body is covered in badly healed scars and he has a hatched head embedded in his skull. Clothing Description A large ragged kilt held on by a leather strap that goes over his shoulder. Equipment Black iron wristbands on both arms. Weapon(s) Generally the heaviest thing around he can pick up. Powers Weirdly lucky. Abilities Super strength, Super endurance, thick leathery hide that can shrug off most normal human blows. Talents Just throwing things. He's gotten really really good at throwing things over the years, he's got excellent aim. Magic None Sessamaru: Dis dog bloke, he seems like a boss, right? 'Sept he's just knockin' about like me, innie? Where's he live? Historia: Bird bloke, always doin' somefing for a boss. Like me. Saha: Don't see many snake blokes 'round here. Don't see many ogres either. Hmmm...likes drinkin'. Seems awright, for a snake bloke. Katelia: Oh wait, ders an ogre. No. 'Old on. Dat's a person. Someone krumped him good. Was it da pet? Wish I had a pet. Wanna see who's gots more scars? Dats a fun game. Julio: Tiny bird bloke. Put him behind me when dey kick in da door. Feels nice, bein' 'round him. Azzrix: Quick little git like dis take off wif half da bosses gubbins when fings go bad. I'm watching you, quick little git. Margaret: Don't trust witches no more. Dey can put needles in yer thinkin' bits. Don't put needles in my thinkin' bit witch, or I'll krump ya. Naida: Bar bloke. Make's nice music. Talks to me in my thinkin' bits. I don't like it, but I won't tell him that 'cause I like him. Mysaren: Feel comfortable 'round this bloke. Somefing about him's, ya know, where you remember somefing and it gives ya a feelin'? Slike dat. Tahira: Give em' a house and some boys and dis'ed be a proper boss ta have. Rimau: Dis is da type a boy ya want widcha when dey kick in da doors. Or just standin' 'round lookin' big. Or Lookin' for somefing. Or someone. Point is, da type a boy you want 'round. Claire: Tiny bloke. Scary bloke. Good bloke to have 'round. Viggo: Git. Makes nice music, but then krumps it with dat loud stuff. What'se for? Rouen: Have I krumped this bloke before? Maybe he was doin' the krumpin'. Not sure. Heads fuzzy. Dis is da sort of bloke that ends up kickin' in da door. Felan: I ain't never seen a dog dat big before! Noooo, stop bein' a git. Go back ta bein' a dog.</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf The sun peeked in past the wooden shutters of a cozy home. The house wasn't too big, but it didn't need to be. A fireplace smoldered on one end of the large, single room. A hand crafted table sat by the window, two slightly larger than normal chairs tucked in under it. The floor was dirt, swept and kept uniform. Several piles of pelts were nestled into various corners, with dogs sprawled across them lazily. A bed sat on the other end of the room, made of strong wood and cushioned with a mattress stuffed with feather and fleece. A couple blankets made up of various animal pelts covered the large man that slumbered there. A few more dogs had made themselves at home, one across his legs and one curled up at his back. The door of the house was left cracked open, fear of intruders not even a thought. Who would trifle with such a sizable resident and his many hounds? However, the heavy wooden door creaked open as someone dared to enter the home. Soft footfalls patted across the dirt floor, approaching the bed where the man slept. A soft, fuzzy white nose pressed into one of his large shoulders, exposed by the slipping blanket. The man grumbled and shifted, encouraging another poke. He blinked awake to look into the shiny black eyes of a young lamb, curious and eager for morning treats. It gave a soft bleat. A sleepy smile spread across the man's face as he reached out a massive hand to caress the lamb's head, fingers scratching under it's chin. "Good morning to you too, little girl," He said, voice gruff with sleep. The man slowly sat up, the excited lamb bleating and scampering back outside. One of the two dogs that laid on the bed lifted its head to watch. The man stood and began going about his morning routine. He pulled on some clothes: a pair of brown wool pants and a soft leather vest, trimmed with sheepskin. A couple of the canines in his home followed him around as he checked on the livestock. Some were not dogs at all, but wild wolves who had made themselves at home there. They seemed to enjoy the man's company; and as long as they didn't harm his sheep or livestock, they were welcomed to stay. The farmer hauled a few bales of hay out to his fields, dividing it among the sheep, goats, donkeys, and equines. He dug handfuls of seeds from a barrel to toss onto the ground for his chickens, exchanging them for a basket full of fresh eggs. The eggs were almost immediately turned into breakfast. Between the man and whatever begging hound was lucky enough to win his pity, they were mostly devoured. As the morning went on, the chores did not end. The firewood was chopped, the horses were groomed, hooves were trimmed, goats were shaved, and sheep were sheared. Of all the sheep in land, the ones on this farm seemed to yield the finest wool. The rate at which it grew was almost alarming. Between being spoiled by their shepherd, and never having to worry about a wolf attacking them, they were perhaps the happiest sheep as well. The goats grew soft coats of cashmere that needed shaving about once every four months. It could be made into soft clothing or blankets, easily dyed any sort of color. The upper class seemed to enjoy wearing it. Mostly because they could afford it. Once the animals were cared for, the garden came next. Fruits and vegetables were picked from the vines and taken into the house. The man himself didn't care much for food grown from the ground. Most of it was to feed his livestock. The lambs trailed after him eagerly as he walked into his home and dumped his pickings onto his counter. After having a few tiny hoofed feet jump up on his legs, the farmer finally caved and handed down a chopped apple. As the sun grew higher into the sky, the fleece and cashmere cut from the morning were bagged up into burlap sacks. With the aid of one of his donkeys, the man headed off towards the town with his load. ======================== It didn't take long to sell off his stock. The town's merchants always kept an eye out for the large man, whose head poked up above most others. When they saw his donkey carrying sacks, they would approach him with all ranges of offers. They would buy his fleece and process it, then sell it for twice the amount. The farmer knew good and well that he could make more profit if he really wanted to, but what use did he have for so much money? He took the pay he had and went down the road to his favorite tavern. It was an old tradition to come into town about once a week and enjoy the company of other people for a change. The man patted his donkey on the head as he tossed the loose sacks over it's back, sending it off to find its way home. For a beast of burden, it was incredibly smart. All of his creatures seemed to be. The man ducked his head as he stepped inside the tavern, his bare feet padding softly as he walked across the old wood floor to find a seat. It was a bit busy today, with faces that were both familiar and strange. The man sat himself down at one of the tables and waited for the nice young woman that worked here to bring him his usual.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Horse hooves clopped along the rocky dirt road. A lone hooded figure in a brown cloak steered his horse forward. A great sword three-quarters a man's height shifted in rhyme with the horse's movements. "Three weeks and no sight of any remnants," he thought glumly. He frowned and looked at his bruised hands. It had been months since he had left the boundaries of the Dukedom. Months of traversing hilly terran, fighting bandits, and looking for anything that might help him on his mission. Months, and all he had to show for progress was an unkempt grizzled face, clothes that badly needed to washed, and the smoking paralyzed corpses of dead highwaymen and creatures on the road behind. He was exhausted, and his horse's sluggish movements indicated that it too was growing weary of the long journey. His bruised hands were only a small part of his suffering. His feet were cold and aching, there was an itch on his back he couldn't reach, and now his stomach growled in complaint. Rouen never really learned to scavenge, so food was scarce. The silver and gold coins that jingled in his belt-pouch had little value in the woods, where civilization and consequently anything that could be bought could be weeks away. They neared a turn and Rouen could see in the corner of the treeline, looked like a tavern. "Finally! Civilization!" he thought as his face beamed with excitement. In his joy he discharged a jolt of electricity from his hand into his mount. The shock caused the horse to shriek and start jumping and tossing in a panic. "Whoa! Whoa! Easy girl! Easy!" he shouted as he jerked on the riding handles. The mount kept trying to shake him off and suddenly bolted into full speed towards the tavern. Rouen was too busy trying to stay on that he didn't realize the growing sight of the tavern's signpost, a blue half-moon. With an audible smack his head collided with the wooden plaque and he fell onto the ground.</s>	<\|message\|>Drubbins Drubbins accepts the pint with as much grace as he can muster, holding the mugs handle between his forefinger and thumb. Da Boss pointed over to the thing in the back covered in papers and notices. He'd seen maps before, bosses sometimes had those, along with a whole bunch of plans and notes that made no sense to him. Usually someone smarter than him just pointed to a place on the map, then a bunch of boys would take him to that place where they'd find a thing, or take a thing, or find a man, or krump a man, or something along those lines. Just his luck that the nobby looking rat bloke decided just that moment to come over and introduce himself. Funny thing, though, saying he was the boss. Drubbins took the whole introduction in with a sort of detached calm, taking the opportunity to down his entire pint in a single gulp, before shifting his big red eyes back to Bernard. There was usually one or two blokes in every organization that was planning to krump the boss and take over the operation, but they didn't make habit of saying so right in front of the boss. That, and the fact that Da Boss wasn't making any indication that he wanted the rat bloke krumped, convinced him that this was another joke. "Ahhhhhhhahahahaha," he laughed, taking one massive hand and slapping Azzrix as lightly as he could on the back. "Ya got some funny boys 'round here Boss." He said to Bernard, setting the empty mug back on the bar before turning back to Azzrix. "'Ey funny boy, what's dat for?" He said, pointing to the notice board. "Dat da plan? S'my job on dere?"</s>
<\|description\|>Tahira Raske Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: Mystic/Enchanter/Occasional Merc Personality That Tahira's is Intelligent is clear to anyone who speaks with her, she can bandy words with the best when she wants to and is surprisingly well-educated. However, as a result of being ostracized in her early childhood she is often Aloof and closed off. That doesn't mean she is hesitant to interact with others, it only means she doesn't have a lot of experience connecting with people emotionally. Anyone who works with her can tell you she is Hard Working, always willing to shoulder the burden herself if need be, and although few have had a chance to experience it she is extremely Loyal. Interests Tahira discovered a love for travel on her way to the Blue Moon Tavern, the world is a much bigger place than she thought it was growing up. She also loves to learn, whether it's history or how to make a dish her hunger for knowledge is insatiable. She also possesses a strong desire to protect the things that matter to her. Appearance Details Body build: Curvy, Athletic Height: 5'9" Hair: Short, Wavy Hair color: Raven Skin color: Pale Eye/Iris color: Amber Height/Weight: 145 lbs. Notable Features: Will be noted. Clothing Description Robes, typically hooded, of varying lengths, colors and styles. Equipment Scale armor cuirass, and whatever she can create magically. Weapon(s) A long, curved blade dagger in a holster she keeps on her lower back. Powers None Abilities None Talents Reading, Writing, Runic Script, Magical Lore, Wilderness Survival, Herbalism/Alchemy, Poison Tolerance, Astrology, hand-to-hand combat and light weapons training. Magic Mysticism and Auramancy. She primarily draws on the power of the spirit to protect, detect and enchant, or make constructs out of spirit energy. Tahira's Impressions Sessamaru: "So virtuous, he has either seen too little of the world or too much." Historia Saurvale:"It would not hurt others to be as courteous as she." Saha Thulaja Era: "She is at home in the Blue Moon, something that is unexpected for one of her kind, but she is still dangerous." Katelia:"I do not blame her for her reticence, it is clear that she has sufferred." Julio: "I know little of that one's motives, but perhaps we share a common interest in nature's remedies." Azzrix Grimmor: "Boasting does an assassin nothing, the best killers die unremarked." Margaret von Eisenberg: "I know her type too well to trust her, but perhaps I could learn something from her." Naida Marcoon: "I would be hard pressed to find a patron who doesn't like her." Drubbins: "His yearning to learn is admirable, I hope it carries him far in life." Mysaren: "She is quite...statuesque, and shows a surprising frugality which others could learn from." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Regardless of what is said about him, that lizard has seen things." Claire Alexandria: "There could be more to that one than meets the eye, I wouldn't mind finding out." Viggo Malmsteen: "I know little of music." Rouen Fulgur: "If he were to rule, they would call him a tyrant." Felan the Wolf: "A man of humble origins, he reminds me of shaman I once knew."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire allowed herself to remain a viewer, an outside party who is not involved, yet can look in. She watched as a lovely blue streak came in and began working. She was clearly in her element. She watched as she neared the party of three, regarded the two others, and went back to being a blur. Soon after a jingling sound and a loud voice drew her viewers eyes away. A free meal, how lovely. Claire bent over and drew her gold pouch from her travel bag. Untying the small knot she had previously made, she saw that she had very little coin left. She probably wouldn't have been able to stay the night. even if the man didn't pay for her meal. She sighed. "Is this all a common occurrence?" Claire asked over to Historia. She seemed to be the most experienced one of the bunch. Hysteria was reading her weapon...A bit jumpy perhaps. A lumbering figure found it's way into the scene. Another player in the blurring fantastic play she found herself in. They bellowed about the boss, and finding some place to be. Interesting, blur, free meal, boss, jumpy...Poor, hungry. A wave of energy ruptured past her. Her heart clenched. She shuddered. Something shattered. Claire sucked in air. She didn't know she had stopped. "I hope it's not.." she commented more to no one then to Historia. As if to console her, a plate of food appeared in front of her. She looked up to see the stoic face of Bernard. She nodded thankfully in return, but of course if he saw it, it was a mystery. She look to her conversation partners. Perhaps she should wait for them to be served too...</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Blue Moon Tavern "Oooh, Sess, I'm really sorry!" Naida exclaims, reaching out to help him up. "I was just trying to have a little fun!" She smiles at him. "I haven't seen you in forever... Well, forever in being yesterday, but still..." Suddenly, the door bursts open and a man runs through yelling for drinks and how he is buying everyone in the bar a drink. Naida rolls her eyes and smiles at Sess. "I'm probably going to have to take care of that in a minute. Can you believe some of these thieves, man? I mean, I know that's Azzrix, but still, you don't need to barge into every place and flaunt your money." She rolls her eyes again and laughs, the light bell sound echoing through the tavern. Every time she talks, people can rarely understand her because she talks so speedily and she changes topics so fast that people often times do not follow her. "I really am sorry that I scared you, Sess," she states. "I'll make it up to you. I'll make you your favorite dish on the house. I'll even cook it myself if that helps at all." She grins at him, hoping that he'll accept her apology food... thing. Right then, the ogre bursts through the door and she sighs. He begins demanding to know where the boss is. "Give me a minute." She flits over to Bernard with a blur and a sprinkle of glitter across the floor and apologizes. "Sorry about the damage to the bar. You can take it out of my paycheck for this month. I'll take care of the big guy if it's any consolation." Before he can answer yet again, she flits up to the ogre and she notices that she is not as tall as this humongous being is. In fact, she is down right puny in his presence. She smiles at Drubbins, fluttering directly in front of his face, and says, "Hello, sir! I am Naida Marcoon, part time bartender." She grabs his hand and shakes it rapidly, glitter and fairy dust from her wings and arms and legs falling to the ground. She then sets his hand back down by his side with another wide grin. Her hand began to coat with ice, a reflexive magic move that was defensive, just in case someone got out of hand in the bar. "May I ask who is asking for our boss? Actually, a better question would be what are you asking for? I mean, normally people just ask for the boss's name so that they can do business with him. Oh! Is that why you're here? Bernard has a lot of people who does business with him..." Naida's excitement gets ahead of her and she begins to randomly jump from tangent to tangent, probably confusing the poor fellow to no end with how rapidly she's talking and how quickly she changes subjects. A couple minutes later she realizes what she's doing. "I am so sorry sir. Faeries are known for having short attention spans though. Anyways, who is asking for our boss?" Right then, Bernard rings his bell and Naida looks back over at him. "Oh! There he is right there. You can go seem him if you would like. I take it by the bell ringing that he would like to talk to you as well. Not a very talkative fellow, but he's a good boss" She flits away back to Sessamaru and says, "Now, what were we talking about?"</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) It wasn't long before Kat saw the blue sparkles that signaled the sprite had made her appearance. She considered flagging her down and ordering food if only to annoy Naida, but decided against it. Kat was bored, but not that bored. Besides, that imp would probably just spit in her food anyway. Kat raised an eyebrow when a walking, talking rat sauntered into the tavern, ordering a round for everyone present. Exchanging a glance with Hel (Is this guy for real?) she shrugged. If he was paying, she wasn't gonna turn down a meal. Not that the tavern actually ever made you pay. It was the principle of the thing. She motioned to a waitress skittering back and forth through the tables and ordered a drink and a healthy plate of food. She almost spat out said drink when an ogre of all things busted through the tavern door. Some dark newcomer to the tavern was already on her feet, blade drawn. Well, she's a twitchy thing. This would be entertaining sure, but Kat wasn't really in the mood to watch someone get slaughtered. "Hey," she called out, still leaning casually at her table, "big guy." She gave a short whistle and raised her arm above her head, beconning the ogre towards her with two fingers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hel looking up at her, decidedly unimpressed. She winked back at him and he just rolled his eyes with a huff. Still, his tail flicked back and forth across the tavern floor, the only sign that he tensed in case any trouble came from Kat's… socialization. "You looking for the boss?" she asked him. Gesturing with her chin at Azzrix, she continued, "That's him over there. They call him Sir Rat, the Inexterminable. He likes it when you bow and kiss his hand."</s>	<\|message\|>Tahira Raske Old parchment rustled soothingly as Tahira turned to the next page in A History of Elrikur, which she read with a complacent smile in the shadows of her hood. She sat cross-legged between two bookshelves on the floor of the tavern's library, absorbed in her reading as usual, with the gentle murmur of conversation and revelry drifting in from the rest of the tavern to provide a warm atmosphere. As she read, many new sounds mixed in with the conversation, adding flavor to that atmosphere. The harmonious melody undoubtedly played by Viggo, and the excited chatter that could only mean the arrival of Naida. These things were interesting, yes, but they didn't break her concentration on the book before her. At least until she felt the backlash. Expanding outwards from a single point beyond the door, a virulent wave of arcane energy washed over the tavern. Tahira had little time to prepare, so as it passed through the library it scalded her delicately attuned magical senses, much like walking from the darkness into bright sunlight would sting the eyes. The book dropped from her hands, followed quickly by a foreign curse which would have revealed her coastal heritage were there any in earshot. Rubbing her temples, Tahira climbed to her feet cautiously. Whatever that had been, it was likely not intentional and she sensed no further spikes in magic coming from the next room. However, just to be safe she erected a spirit barrier around herself, invisible to normal eyes, which would protect her from the disorientation of another wave. Picking up the fallen book, she placed it back on itself and brushed off her knee-length robes. There would be no going back to reading now, she had a few herbal remedies which would soothe her headache, but a drink would do the same and it gave her an excuse to investigate what had just happened. Naida was apologizing to Sessamaru profusely as Tahira stepped out of the library and into the tavern. It seemed that his potent magic was at the center of this issue, but they were not well-acquainted enough for Tahira to feel comfortable prying. Instead, her eye caught the Witch, Margaret, who was ensconced in the same bench she had been the night prior. It was a safe assumption that she had been similarly affected by the magic, so Tahira thought it would be a good opportunity to approach her. Of course, she didn't consider what the combined effect of alcohol and volatile magic might have felt like at so close a range. Stepping up the witch's table, she addressed her prone form. "Was that as...uncomfortable...for you as it was for me?" she asked, her voice it's typical low-pitched murmur.</s>
<\|description\|>Tahira Raske Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: Mystic/Enchanter/Occasional Merc Personality That Tahira's is Intelligent is clear to anyone who speaks with her, she can bandy words with the best when she wants to and is surprisingly well-educated. However, as a result of being ostracized in her early childhood she is often Aloof and closed off. That doesn't mean she is hesitant to interact with others, it only means she doesn't have a lot of experience connecting with people emotionally. Anyone who works with her can tell you she is Hard Working, always willing to shoulder the burden herself if need be, and although few have had a chance to experience it she is extremely Loyal. Interests Tahira discovered a love for travel on her way to the Blue Moon Tavern, the world is a much bigger place than she thought it was growing up. She also loves to learn, whether it's history or how to make a dish her hunger for knowledge is insatiable. She also possesses a strong desire to protect the things that matter to her. Appearance Details Body build: Curvy, Athletic Height: 5'9" Hair: Short, Wavy Hair color: Raven Skin color: Pale Eye/Iris color: Amber Height/Weight: 145 lbs. Notable Features: Will be noted. Clothing Description Robes, typically hooded, of varying lengths, colors and styles. Equipment Scale armor cuirass, and whatever she can create magically. Weapon(s) A long, curved blade dagger in a holster she keeps on her lower back. Powers None Abilities None Talents Reading, Writing, Runic Script, Magical Lore, Wilderness Survival, Herbalism/Alchemy, Poison Tolerance, Astrology, hand-to-hand combat and light weapons training. Magic Mysticism and Auramancy. She primarily draws on the power of the spirit to protect, detect and enchant, or make constructs out of spirit energy. Tahira's Impressions Sessamaru: "So virtuous, he has either seen too little of the world or too much." Historia Saurvale:"It would not hurt others to be as courteous as she." Saha Thulaja Era: "She is at home in the Blue Moon, something that is unexpected for one of her kind, but she is still dangerous." Katelia:"I do not blame her for her reticence, it is clear that she has sufferred." Julio: "I know little of that one's motives, but perhaps we share a common interest in nature's remedies." Azzrix Grimmor: "Boasting does an assassin nothing, the best killers die unremarked." Margaret von Eisenberg: "I know her type too well to trust her, but perhaps I could learn something from her." Naida Marcoon: "I would be hard pressed to find a patron who doesn't like her." Drubbins: "His yearning to learn is admirable, I hope it carries him far in life." Mysaren: "She is quite...statuesque, and shows a surprising frugality which others could learn from." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Regardless of what is said about him, that lizard has seen things." Claire Alexandria: "There could be more to that one than meets the eye, I wouldn't mind finding out." Viggo Malmsteen: "I know little of music." Rouen Fulgur: "If he were to rule, they would call him a tyrant." Felan the Wolf: "A man of humble origins, he reminds me of shaman I once knew."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku The old Zizz soon descended the stairs and entered the main room of the tavern, scanning his head from left to right. It was considerably busier than usual this morning, he noticed. Lots of strange folk hanging around, too. There was some fancy-pants Rodent hanging about; could've sworn he's seen that one before. But there was something even stranger next to him; a giant Ogre was standing there with a pint in his hand (seemed like a woefully inadequate amount for a creature of his size), laughing in the Rodent's face. He couldn't see the Rodent's face, and that was a shame, because he'd probably have been putting on a funny expression. Off in one of the corners, he squinted at the redhead witch hanging about in the shade. It wasn't an evil squint, mind you, but a competitive squint; he had been at the tavern for about a week now, and had had ample opportunity to acquaint himself with that one. He couldn't help but admire her ingenuity with that Crossbow of hers. She could prove problematic if any big-time mercenary work pops up, with all that old-school magic of hers. Cheating? Yes, but only if you got caught. Then there was that Sheep herder at one of the tables. Best ignore that one, he thought. He'd been sneaking about 'his' land again, and he didn't seem to have a good sense of humour. The sort of person who'd go nuts if you so much as mentioned the idea of controlling animal population. Which was a shame, given the enormous Wolf he'd spotted in the area. That was going to prove quite the prize, when he had some free time. What was particularly irritating at this time in the morning, though, was the sheer business of the place. The Zizz usually sat in one of the comfy seats off in the corner somewhere, but it seemed like that area was flooded with young fools getting drunk at nine A.M., or whatever time it was. Morons! They'd probably end up dead before the day was done, he thought as he chuckled to himself slightly, though not forgetting his irritation. As a result of these morons, however, the Zizz was forced to manuever his way past quite a few patrons (not an easy task thanks to his height and tail swaying about) and clamber up on top a lone stool at the bar, somewhere he rarely ever sat. There was a good reason for this, which made itself apparent pretty soon. Ignoring the great wall that was the Ogre to his left, he rummaged about in one of his belt pockets to retrieve his prized Pipe, made of dark wood as per usual Zizz preference. Removing the little cap to stop all the pre-packed 'medicinal' herbs from falling out, he removed a match from the same pocket and attempted to strike it against the bar. No luck. He tried it again, and again, and about six more 'agains' before he could finally squeeze a little flame off it, grumbling to himself the entire time. That was another weird thing about the tavern; it always took more effort to light matches. Some sort of newfangled suppression field, perhaps, which might also explain the sheer lack of the usual bar fights he'd seen in... just about every other tavern he'd been to. Except the ones in Tarzblik, obviously. For entirely different reasons. Finally, he stuck his Pipe in his toothy mouth and lit it with the match, waving it about afterwards to turn the fire into a little smoke puff. Of course, that was nothing compared to what happened afterwards as the Zizz began to actually smoke said Pipe, releasing much bigger puffs of smoke which spread across the bar. Of course the Zizz didn't particularly care for any inconvenience this may cause, since the calming herbal sensation had him captivated. It was enough to make him grin again, in that classic terrifying fashion Zizz were known for.</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was slightly disappointed that Kat hadn't taken the mug he had offered, but she did already have one. He then heard the orge's response and even though he kept a straight face Azzrix had a vein bulging on his head. How dare this creature make his offer of help a game, if he wasn't of noble birth then he would have taken this beast's head. Even though his mind was thinking violent thoughts Azzrix still smiled at the inferior creature before him. "You're a funny one ogre, what is your name, you do have a name right?" he asked with a smile still imagining throwing a knife at him. He took sips of his mead and felt his anger calm down for a bit. He was waiting to see what kind of mission he could take to earn some money and also see if there would be a chance for him to steal from a challenging wealthy person, maybe he would also get an assassination mission. God only knows when he would get a chance to practice his assassin skills on a mission and he wondered how well the others would do on such missions. Azzrix was more interested in working with magic users, muscle was good, but he had plenty of that and anymore stealthy people would mean that he would lose the franchise, he had enough stealth. Magic on other hand he had none of and so getting a good magic user to work with him would open up a whole world of possibility and fencing magical artifacts would get him a really great amount of gold, he's heard stories about some magic guilds being loaded thanks some of them being able to make gold with their magic. Azzrix especially would love to get his hands on the alchemy formula to create gold if it existed, an infinite amount of gold would be very useful for expanding his family's influence and ambitions of his own.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Dat'd be Drubbins." The Ogre announced proudly. "Dats da name..." He quiets down, thinking back. Drubbins didn't have the best memory in the world. He remembered general things, but who's and where's and when's generally leaked out of his head between bosses. He didn't consider this a bad thing, it cleared space for all the new people he'd be putting in his head, but even he wouldn't forget a life changing encounter. "Dats da name I was givin' by Malia Burg, da Source-ress, on account a my big 'ands and what I could do wif 'em."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire listened intently to Historia as she answered her question, nodding slightly here and there. As soon as her...friend, here got her food, Claire worked up the courage to try her own. Clearly far behind Mysaren, she took a few dainty bites of her meal. Honestly she was quite hungry, but she never knew eating any other way. "It certainly is..." Claire stopped to look around the place, choosing a word for the tavern. "Warm." She finished. She regarded the large ogre, now enjoying a drink with the stoic barhand and ratman. Next was the white haired boy with animal ears. He was the source of the magic earlier...The cheery blue, working as she wanted, and another new face. A reptilian man smoking to himself at another seat..."and interesting." She continued before going back to eating. Her food was warm and quite good, not what she was used to, but she was enjoying it so far. As she ate she on and off watched her two companions. They were quite different people, but they didn't seem bad. "Thank you." She added softly, avoiding eye contact. She didn't know what exactly she was thanking them for, but it seemed right.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) The tavern was certainly getting lively. People were bustling this way and that, mingling with each other, and Kat was just about done with all this for the day. Entertaining characters aside, she was tired. Hunting in the forest all night tended to be a draining experience. Kat knew, tired as she was, any reservations she had about making smartass comments would be all but gone. And Hel could only hold her back so much. "Well," she said with an exaggerated sigh, patting Hel on his great furry head to signal it was time. "This has been a pleasure, my lord," she said to Azzrix, "but I really must be going." Hel got up so Kat could stand. It was time for a nice nap in the forest. She had a permanent room at the tavern, but if the magical mishap had been any indication for the day, it would be too rowdy here to get any rest. On their way out as they weaved through the crowd, Kat saw some people that made her reconsider. The Zizz was out and about, which usually meant a fun time. And Felan had just entered in his quiet way. He wasn't as lively, but Hel was fond enough of him. Kat just gave them both quick nods as she left. When they finally got outside, Hel almost immediately shoved her back through the door. A frantic horse, wild and riderless was thundering towards them. The snow leopard jumped in front of her, baring his fangs and hissing at the mare. The horse slid to a stop, tearing up her front legs with a screech. And then she was turning, dashing away from the two of them. Lowering his hackles, Hel relaxed his stance, while Kat just looked after the horse, eyebrow raised. It was then that she saw the horse's rider, flat on the ground. Glancing at Hel, she walked around her companion to squat next to the man. "Trouble with your horse?" she said slyly, A smirk making its way onto her face. Hel plodded up beside her and nudged him a bit with his nose, sniffing.</s>	<\|message\|>Tahira Raske Although she didn't quite agree, Tahira smiled at the comment about Viggo's music as she sat down in the chair Margaret had offered her. The charm that the witch was referring to intrigued her, as their magic both strayed along a similar path, so she pulled back her hood far enough to expose her amber eyes so that she could see it in detail. Her senses were still upset from the earlier shock, but she could still identify the trinket's energy. She was capable of making her own enchantments, but she preferred keeping them temporary, which meant she wasn't arrayed in enchanted items unless she was going out on one of the few missions that caught her attention. In three months, she had only found a handful of jobs that interested her. Realizing she had been silent for a second longer than was comfortable, Tahira looked up from the charm. "How long have you practiced the arts?" she asked, hesitant at the personal question. However, magic users were so dynamic in skill and knowledge it was natural for her to be curious.</s>
<\|description\|>Tahira Raske Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: Mystic/Enchanter/Occasional Merc Personality That Tahira's is Intelligent is clear to anyone who speaks with her, she can bandy words with the best when she wants to and is surprisingly well-educated. However, as a result of being ostracized in her early childhood she is often Aloof and closed off. That doesn't mean she is hesitant to interact with others, it only means she doesn't have a lot of experience connecting with people emotionally. Anyone who works with her can tell you she is Hard Working, always willing to shoulder the burden herself if need be, and although few have had a chance to experience it she is extremely Loyal. Interests Tahira discovered a love for travel on her way to the Blue Moon Tavern, the world is a much bigger place than she thought it was growing up. She also loves to learn, whether it's history or how to make a dish her hunger for knowledge is insatiable. She also possesses a strong desire to protect the things that matter to her. Appearance Details Body build: Curvy, Athletic Height: 5'9" Hair: Short, Wavy Hair color: Raven Skin color: Pale Eye/Iris color: Amber Height/Weight: 145 lbs. Notable Features: Will be noted. Clothing Description Robes, typically hooded, of varying lengths, colors and styles. Equipment Scale armor cuirass, and whatever she can create magically. Weapon(s) A long, curved blade dagger in a holster she keeps on her lower back. Powers None Abilities None Talents Reading, Writing, Runic Script, Magical Lore, Wilderness Survival, Herbalism/Alchemy, Poison Tolerance, Astrology, hand-to-hand combat and light weapons training. Magic Mysticism and Auramancy. She primarily draws on the power of the spirit to protect, detect and enchant, or make constructs out of spirit energy. Tahira's Impressions Sessamaru: "So virtuous, he has either seen too little of the world or too much." Historia Saurvale:"It would not hurt others to be as courteous as she." Saha Thulaja Era: "She is at home in the Blue Moon, something that is unexpected for one of her kind, but she is still dangerous." Katelia:"I do not blame her for her reticence, it is clear that she has sufferred." Julio: "I know little of that one's motives, but perhaps we share a common interest in nature's remedies." Azzrix Grimmor: "Boasting does an assassin nothing, the best killers die unremarked." Margaret von Eisenberg: "I know her type too well to trust her, but perhaps I could learn something from her." Naida Marcoon: "I would be hard pressed to find a patron who doesn't like her." Drubbins: "His yearning to learn is admirable, I hope it carries him far in life." Mysaren: "She is quite...statuesque, and shows a surprising frugality which others could learn from." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Regardless of what is said about him, that lizard has seen things." Claire Alexandria: "There could be more to that one than meets the eye, I wouldn't mind finding out." Viggo Malmsteen: "I know little of music." Rouen Fulgur: "If he were to rule, they would call him a tyrant." Felan the Wolf: "A man of humble origins, he reminds me of shaman I once knew."</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Thank y'kindly." The Lizard returned the courtesy to the Sprite. But once that was over with, he wasted no time in grabbing the glass given and downing the entire thing in one go; it wasn't exactly unusual for him to drink his fruit juice in such a way. Only problem was, after he drunk it, he felt an almost electrical jolt of energy course through his entire body, making him shiver and widen his eyes. If he had hairs, they'd all be standing on end. This wasn't a bad thing, however, because to comprehend what he saw next, he'd need to be awake as possible. A boy... girl... thing in a white overcoat typically worn by human religious missionaries burst into the bar and started talking all rainbows and cupcakes. S/he did this all the way up to, and on the other side of, the bar, a little too close for comfort. Rimau looked on with even wider eyes and a blank expression of bewilderment. Then he said to the wo/man: "Huh... ain't seen you 'round 'ere before, kid." What especially confused him here was that no-one else seemed to react the same way he did. Maybe s/he was a regular, but he wouldn't know, since he only discovered the ostensibly legendary bar less than a week ago. Could just be another sign of its apparent weirdness. "...What's yer deal?" He continued, licking the inside of his mouth to get the most out of his juice. "...Y'part o' the Church o' Happy-ology or somethin'? Y'act like that on a day-to-day basis, there's good odds some'un'll turn yer face into a modern art masterpiece, let alone 'convert'!" He propelled up and slightly over the bar to add weight to that last part, but he couldn't hide the little grin on his face. He sat back down to let the remark sink in for a bit, before waiting for the best opportunity to start laughing, allowing his little grin to pop open. "...Baahhh, I'm just messin' with ya! ...B'seriously, though..." He added, changing his expression to a solemn and serious one almost cartoonishly quickly; something that took a bit of practice, it seemed. "...That cheerful stuff creeps folks out, kid. Makes people think y'tryin' to... do somethin'. Like, y'got an agenda. No-one is 'at 'appy normally 'cept a slimy lil' hatchlin' fresh from the shell. Makes it cute in kind of er... never mind, it's a Zizz thing." What proved interesting now, though, was the bits of paper s/he was pinning to the wall. He once again tried to stretch his upper body over the bar to get a closer look, his view obscured by the mass of people milling about like... a mass of people.</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix gave a bigger smile when Mysaren and Claire thanked him for the drinks and asked him what business that he had in mind. "I am looking for people to go on missions with and I am pretty sure that some will come up soon. I am perfectly fine with doing them myself, but I find having a group to aid you is much better for health than doing them alone. So if any of you are interested in going on a mission then I am perfectly fine with you coming along with me. There would be riches to be had and the promise of glory." he said to them calmly. He was hoping to find allies to make doing the tougher missions easier, his family may have liked a challenge, but they weren't stupid. "Remember Azzrix, if you can have assistance in job with a person you can trust then always have it." Azzrix remembered his dad telling him that when he was a young child learning how to be an expert thief.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale "Ah! Yes a tour, thank you Miss Mysaren." Historia smiled when she remembered where she left off. "Well I could show you around now-" She started to say but was cut off when the ratman from earlier (she had yet to catch his name) came over and started to talk to them. "Oh, well thank you for the compliment Mr. Grimmor, but I only did what I thought was right as I doubt any of us wanted to deal with a fight in here." She gave Mr. Grimmor a smile, "And thank you for the meal, and I do hope you don't think me rude, but I can't take you up on your offer for drinks. The ability to fly mixed with alcohol has never ended well for my kind." But Historia didn't have to go without a drink for long as Mr.Bernard made his way over to them with a bottle in his hand. She was surprised when Mr.Bernard actually spoke to her while popping the cap off the bottle. Historia was a little under the impression that Mr.Bernard couldn't speak but now she knew better. "Oh, thank you very much Mr. Bernard." Historia told him as she took a sip of the drink. The fizz tickled her lips and it tasted like strawberries. It was amazing! "Ah, well. Looks like I don't have to go without a drink after all." She told Mr. Grimmor as the priest came in with today's jobs. "As for business, well, I mostly do small missions and act as a messenger or courier, so if you need anything delivered, I might be able to help. Though if there is a big group, I might be persuaded to help. But I promised these two a tour soon. I'm hoping to find a job or two around the city that we might be able to do together as a way to show them around." Historia looked at the board and at the small crowd that was still around it. But it might take a bit to even get to the board. "If that's alright with you two that is." Historia told her companions when she looked back.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen raised his eyebrows as Naida spoke and looked at the drink suspiciously. "Eh, she is probably jesting," he thought and raised the mug up, eyeing the amber ale. Still, he took a small sip and placed it on the bar table. "Doesn't taste too bad, a little sour end but the flavor is unique. As long as it is more palatable than revolting I suppose," he thought. He ate a spoonful of the soup that was placed in front of him. "Hog's meat, now this is a fine stew. Worthy for the court," he thought and a smile grew on his lips. He quietly finished the stew and began sipping on the brew. Content and satisfied he leaned back. He pulled out a small white piece of paper, an ink vial, and a quill from his belt satchel. Hundreds of little black lines crossed the surface of the paper. "Let us see one…two……forty-five….one-hundred….," he thought counting the lines on the paper. "273, that makes nine-months. Goddess have I really been gone for that long?" Brushing the quill into the vial of ink he added another line to the piece of paper. He leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes. "All this time, and still no sign of what I am looking for." He thought remembering visions of the black hulking being in the dark forest. He swept his left hand to his right arm, feeling the scars that lined it underneath the leather jerkin. Rouen hadn't felt terror like that. It was an experience that he wished to erase from his mind but at the same time refused to forget. It was something that was forever scarred into the landscape of his subconscious. The trauma echoed in the walls of his psyche. Sometimes he would dream of the encounter, and wake sweating feverishly. He opened his eyes, and lightly shook his head trying to think of something else. Sighing, he reached into his satchel and pulled out a small ring with a red garnet etched into its center. "I wonder if she still remem-," he thought, but it was interrupted as he overheard someone say, "The Remnants haven't been stirring up trouble lately," "Remnants?" he thought. The mere word alerted him and he brought himself to a level position. He looked behind him and saw the man who spoke, he was pasting something up on the board. Rouen immediately grabbed his paper, vial, quill, and ring then stuffed them into the satchel. He sternly walked up behind the man. "Excuse me, did you mention something about Remnants?" Rouen asked.</s>	<\|message\|>Tahira Raske Tahira chose to ignore the witch's slanderous remark towards the musician. She didn't have a strong opinion of his music but she did recognize that it took some skill, and there was no danger of her falling under the sway of that particular spell, since the magic blast from earlier had made her more alert. In fact, she was interested in how he fused magic into his music and made a mental note to ask him later. For now, she would focus on one thing at a time, and that was awaiting Margaret's response to her question. "Oh, quite a few years. Under various masters and from various sources. I suppose that's the defining quality of witchcraft - learning on your own and largely by doing." she shrugged at Tahira's question. "It is more reliant on resources than the magic itself, which can make it rather costly at times though." Hmmm, that was rather interesting. So she used components for her magical works? That made sense considering the nature of her charm. Tahira's magic relied on the strength and focus of the spirit, but she didn't have an opportunity to respond as the tavern's new ogre crouched beside her for help reading. That was certainly something she didn't have a problem offering, she loved reading and writing, and anyone who wanted help with it was worth her time. However, Margaret intercepted the question before she had a chance to see it and the ogre withdrew the paper to analyze it more closely. Then the musician, Viggo, stormed up to them, apparently he had heard the witch's rather vocal criticism. The events unfolding in the rest of the bar escaped Tahira's notice as she was caught on the fringes of the heated exchange. Pulling her hood farther down, to hide her eyes once again, she hoped her placement at the table wouldn't affect her chances of weaseling some magical secrets out of Viggo later. As the argument resolved itself, Margaret turned her attention to the ogre and she could see the gears turning in the witch's head as she ordered pancakes. Since she was not exactly in a breakfast mood, Tahira thought it would be best to talk to her at another time. "Thank you for the information," she said, nodding to Margaret and then Drubbins. "I hope you don't mind if I…leave you two to your meal." As she stood up, she took note of Priest and those gathering around him and decided to see what jobs would be available. Navigating through the patrons of the somewhat crowded tavern, she noticed a few new faces, but she wasn't the type to stop and greet them as she made her way to the board, stopping next to a new knight. Anything particularly magic related would catch her interest, so that is what she looked for as she stood behind Priest, analyzing each job as he put it up until one caught her eye. A rare jewel? The Mages of Elrikur? Yes, this is the one. "Priest...what do you know of these mages, and the gem they seek?" She asked, tilting her head curiously.</s>
<\|description\|>Tahira Raske Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: Mystic/Enchanter/Occasional Merc Personality That Tahira's is Intelligent is clear to anyone who speaks with her, she can bandy words with the best when she wants to and is surprisingly well-educated. However, as a result of being ostracized in her early childhood she is often Aloof and closed off. That doesn't mean she is hesitant to interact with others, it only means she doesn't have a lot of experience connecting with people emotionally. Anyone who works with her can tell you she is Hard Working, always willing to shoulder the burden herself if need be, and although few have had a chance to experience it she is extremely Loyal. Interests Tahira discovered a love for travel on her way to the Blue Moon Tavern, the world is a much bigger place than she thought it was growing up. She also loves to learn, whether it's history or how to make a dish her hunger for knowledge is insatiable. She also possesses a strong desire to protect the things that matter to her. Appearance Details Body build: Curvy, Athletic Height: 5'9" Hair: Short, Wavy Hair color: Raven Skin color: Pale Eye/Iris color: Amber Height/Weight: 145 lbs. Notable Features: Will be noted. Clothing Description Robes, typically hooded, of varying lengths, colors and styles. Equipment Scale armor cuirass, and whatever she can create magically. Weapon(s) A long, curved blade dagger in a holster she keeps on her lower back. Powers None Abilities None Talents Reading, Writing, Runic Script, Magical Lore, Wilderness Survival, Herbalism/Alchemy, Poison Tolerance, Astrology, hand-to-hand combat and light weapons training. Magic Mysticism and Auramancy. She primarily draws on the power of the spirit to protect, detect and enchant, or make constructs out of spirit energy. Tahira's Impressions Sessamaru: "So virtuous, he has either seen too little of the world or too much." Historia Saurvale:"It would not hurt others to be as courteous as she." Saha Thulaja Era: "She is at home in the Blue Moon, something that is unexpected for one of her kind, but she is still dangerous." Katelia:"I do not blame her for her reticence, it is clear that she has sufferred." Julio: "I know little of that one's motives, but perhaps we share a common interest in nature's remedies." Azzrix Grimmor: "Boasting does an assassin nothing, the best killers die unremarked." Margaret von Eisenberg: "I know her type too well to trust her, but perhaps I could learn something from her." Naida Marcoon: "I would be hard pressed to find a patron who doesn't like her." Drubbins: "His yearning to learn is admirable, I hope it carries him far in life." Mysaren: "She is quite...statuesque, and shows a surprising frugality which others could learn from." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Regardless of what is said about him, that lizard has seen things." Claire Alexandria: "There could be more to that one than meets the eye, I wouldn't mind finding out." Viggo Malmsteen: "I know little of music." Rouen Fulgur: "If he were to rule, they would call him a tyrant." Felan the Wolf: "A man of humble origins, he reminds me of shaman I once knew."</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon NaidaBlue Moon Tavern Naida rolls her eyes as Sess asks for another bowl. She quickly dishes him some more, this time adding a little fairy dust to it so it will quell his hunger for at least a good hour, and says, "Alright, great! You and I can do a job together. I get to choose." She sets the bowl down in front of him, sticking her tongue out at him in a childish way as she does, and flits over to the job board, hovering above most of the people's heads. She notices one that looks very interesting and pulls it down off the board. Taken She reads the description quickly and flits back over to Sess, showing him the job. "How's this one? I think I know the daughter; I've seen her in here with her parents more than once." She then notices that it says that the island is on the river nearby. She smiles, delighted. It has been a long time since she has been in her mermaid form and she fears that she would die of withdrawal if she were to go any longer. "If we do this job, we need to stop by my house before we head out," she tells Sess. "Ileft my bow and arrows back there, along with a few of my knives. I hope that's alright." Her eyes scan over the paper again, curious on how much the reward is. It doesn't say, but from what she has seen from the parents, they are quite rich. She looks over at Bernard and says, "Hey, Bernard! I might be leaving a little early today." She grins at him and holds up the paper. "Gotta job to do."</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Sessamaru] Sess swiftly continues to eat the stew, slowing down when he noticed a strange new flavor, almost like an exotic spice. The swordsman looked at the bowl, then to Naida. With a sigh and a shrug, he finished the new dish and wandered away into the kitchen. There was a commotion, a lot of yelling from the chef, and the kitchen door explodes open with Sessamaru running out of it, holding a giant pot full of the stew. "Miss Naida! Let's go!" He cried, fearing for his life whilst being chased by the chef and the other cooks. The cooks and chef began to throw objects at the fleeing Sess, who chugged the pot down while running, each object miraculously missing him. Dropping the now empty pot, the swordsman reached the door and left the tavern, leaving Naida to her own devices.</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur Rouen looked hard at the priest. He shifted his gaze to the wall behind him. There were several papers attached to it. "Okay thank you," he replied curtly to the man. Other people seemed to be trying to talk to the priest so Rouen maneuvered around them to look at the board. He searched the wall with a finger for anything mentioning a cave. "A help board? Well that is a new idea," he thought looking at the variety of requests. Many of the requests seemed juvenile, like petty thievery or missing pets. They were jobs meant for squires and the local guard force. Things that were of no interest to Rouen at all. He found what the priest was talking about."A cave eh? Well hopefully I get the luck of the draw this time around," he thought. "I wouldn't be surprised if what this priest thinks a remnant is turned out to be another overgrown solitary fay creature." Rouen had searched many caves, abandoned houses, and valleys in the past nine months of travelling. Most of them were just that. Caves, abandoned houses, and valleys. Occasionally he would run into some fay creature like an ogre or harpy. Even then the majority of them were fairly harmless. None had actual Remnants. He sighed, "Well this is the only information I have so far, maybe it will actually lead me somewhere."However, as he turned around a smile grew on his face. "Back to the field," he thought happily thinking of this next part of his journey. The field was a term he used for where the action occurs. It was where battles took place, quests were completed, and history happens. Rouen didn't care if this cave turned out to be just some abandoned spookhole. He was a knight. The field, whether it be some cave, castle, forest, or a plain landscape was his duty. It was where he found his purpose. He walked toward the bar where there was an empty bowl of soup and half a mug of ale. Shuffling through his pouch he put down two silver coins. Looking at the big man who looked like the bartender Rouen said, "This should cover the stew," he said. He then put another silver coin down, "And this is for the lady. Please pass on my compliments." He turned and it looked like people in the bar seemed to be crowding over the message board. "So many people willing to help each other. This may be a fay tavern but the community seems to be healthy. It must be the human aspect," he thought. His eyes shifted to some of the more conspicuous folks. There was a woman wearing a robe made of a swirl of vibrant colors. "She must be important, I've only seen diplomats and high nobility wear such expensive gowns," he thought and couldn't help but admire her figure. He next looked at the one-armed village girl and glared. "Bah, someone will teach her manners one day. I shouldn't overreact like that again, it is beneath my station," he thought. Smile on his face, Rouen turned towards the tavern door and began to walk onto the road.</s> <\|message\|>Viggo Malmsteen After his little spat with the witch, Viggo swung by the bar, sitting down on a stool nearby his iced bucket of beer bottles. He uncorked one with his teeth and quickly consumed its contents, resting his idle hand flat on his guitars strings. Once sated, the guitarist stood again, wiping his lips with this thumb, and cast his gaze in the direction of Rouen who had been looking over the various contracts pinned to the large message board. With a huff, Viggo pushed himself off his seat and made his way over to the board to see if he could find something to do. Viggo poured over the messages, rolling his eyes at more than one. "Boo hoo, you lost a dog.. Buy a new one.." he uttered quietly while hunched forward to pour over the rest of the notices. At last, his eyes fixated on one that seemed worthy of his talents. After noting the details to memory, Viggo moved towards the bar, whistling to get Bernard's attention. "Hey, Bernie, what's the deal with this daughter situation. The island quest, with the uh, disgusting tribespeople" he would question, leaning forward onto the bar, having swung his guitar behind his back once more.</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon NaidaBlue Moon Tavern Naida stares after Sess as he runs out the door, mouth agape, before slamming her palm into her forehead and dragging it down her face with an exasperated sigh. "You've got to be kidding," she murmurs to herself. She quickly helps the cooks and chefs pick up their things, apologizing profusely for her friend's behavior before grabbing the job and flying toward the door. She sees Sessamaru walking farther up and she sighs. She probably isn't going to be able to get him to go toward her house. She begins to fly slightly above the ground before she flies over to her house rapidly. Not bothering to go in through the door, she flies in through the window she always keeps open. She quickly grabs her quiver of arrows and her wooden bow that she got from her mother's former friends. She stares at the bow for a brief moment, tears beginning to form at the edge of her eyes. She quickly wipes them away and pulls the quiver and bow over her shoulders. She then walks over to her closet and pulls out a few knives, shoving them in her boots. She then grabs her dark blue head back and pushes her hair back out of her face. She is about to fly back out the window when she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She notices the scar on her stomach, slightly exposed under her mid-length cropped t-shirt. She sighs, running her hand along it for a moment before she flits back out then window in a dash of fairy dust and glitter. She flies above the road for a brief moment before she sees Sess still walking down the road. She flies down and lands next to him, still gripping the job in her hand. She shakes herself a little bit and smiles at him. "So, you ready?"</s>	<\|message\|>Tahira Raske In response to Priest's concerns, Tahira expressed her agreement with a polite nod. While she appeared distant and mysterious to some, it were those very qualities which would point the astute observer to one of her defining traits, caution. If the priest thought the mission was too difficult to perform alone, she would seek out at least one partner to join her on the job, despite their potential to get in the way of her own scholarly interests in the gem. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long to find a prospective partner. As Rouen walked away from the board, and others came and went, Kat stepped up and pulled down the Arcane Collective's flyer. Glancing at her leopard, she said "Wanna kill some Drakas?" Although the question had not been directed at her, Tahira stepped closer and provided her own answer. "If you seek another partner to accompany you, I am quite interested in this quest," while speaking, she turned her eyes from Kat to Hel and back, as if addressing them both. She had not had much interaction with these two, as they did not stray near the library in which she spent most of her time, but they had proven themselves capable trackers from what she had heard.</s>
<\|description\|>Tahira Raske Race: Human Gender: Female Age: 20 Occupation: Mystic/Enchanter/Occasional Merc Personality That Tahira's is Intelligent is clear to anyone who speaks with her, she can bandy words with the best when she wants to and is surprisingly well-educated. However, as a result of being ostracized in her early childhood she is often Aloof and closed off. That doesn't mean she is hesitant to interact with others, it only means she doesn't have a lot of experience connecting with people emotionally. Anyone who works with her can tell you she is Hard Working, always willing to shoulder the burden herself if need be, and although few have had a chance to experience it she is extremely Loyal. Interests Tahira discovered a love for travel on her way to the Blue Moon Tavern, the world is a much bigger place than she thought it was growing up. She also loves to learn, whether it's history or how to make a dish her hunger for knowledge is insatiable. She also possesses a strong desire to protect the things that matter to her. Appearance Details Body build: Curvy, Athletic Height: 5'9" Hair: Short, Wavy Hair color: Raven Skin color: Pale Eye/Iris color: Amber Height/Weight: 145 lbs. Notable Features: Will be noted. Clothing Description Robes, typically hooded, of varying lengths, colors and styles. Equipment Scale armor cuirass, and whatever she can create magically. Weapon(s) A long, curved blade dagger in a holster she keeps on her lower back. Powers None Abilities None Talents Reading, Writing, Runic Script, Magical Lore, Wilderness Survival, Herbalism/Alchemy, Poison Tolerance, Astrology, hand-to-hand combat and light weapons training. Magic Mysticism and Auramancy. She primarily draws on the power of the spirit to protect, detect and enchant, or make constructs out of spirit energy. Tahira's Impressions Sessamaru: "So virtuous, he has either seen too little of the world or too much." Historia Saurvale:"It would not hurt others to be as courteous as she." Saha Thulaja Era: "She is at home in the Blue Moon, something that is unexpected for one of her kind, but she is still dangerous." Katelia:"I do not blame her for her reticence, it is clear that she has sufferred." Julio: "I know little of that one's motives, but perhaps we share a common interest in nature's remedies." Azzrix Grimmor: "Boasting does an assassin nothing, the best killers die unremarked." Margaret von Eisenberg: "I know her type too well to trust her, but perhaps I could learn something from her." Naida Marcoon: "I would be hard pressed to find a patron who doesn't like her." Drubbins: "His yearning to learn is admirable, I hope it carries him far in life." Mysaren: "She is quite...statuesque, and shows a surprising frugality which others could learn from." Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: "Regardless of what is said about him, that lizard has seen things." Claire Alexandria: "There could be more to that one than meets the eye, I wouldn't mind finding out." Viggo Malmsteen: "I know little of music." Rouen Fulgur: "If he were to rule, they would call him a tyrant." Felan the Wolf: "A man of humble origins, he reminds me of shaman I once knew."</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat blinked when the priest's words finally trickled in through her 'annoying shit I don't need to hear' filter. "However, it is being guarded by Drakas, Remnants from the continent of Shoba." She very nearly slammed the paper back onto the board then and there. Remnants… After what happened last time, Kat'd done all she could to avoid them. Memories surfaced through a fog: a Remant's shriek, pain like fire igniting her blood, a snow leopard's yowl… she felt her breath catch in her throat at the idea of facing one again. She felt like a child, letting herself be paralyzed so, but she couldn't bring herself back from her reaction. Hel watched her with a heavy gaze, sensing her unrest. A new voice cut through the air, jolting her out of her thoughts. It was the witch, Tahira, asking to come along on the quest Kat'd just claimed. She was half tempted to just shove the paper at the other woman and tell her to do it on her own, but she hesitated. Kat eyed her, and looked back at Hel. The great cat's tail swayed easily behind him, back and forth, measuring the seconds. Kat remembered the silver coin the knight had given her, and how he'd reassured her she could live a fulfilling life in spite of her 'impairment.' She remembered how easily Hel had killed the boar they'd spent the night hunting, carrying it on his back all the way to the tavern, never slowing or tiring, or needing any help at all. She remembered the memories she'd long trained herself to not think on, and the feeling of helplessness that came with them. It was a feeling that had once been alien to her. Kat's gaze focused then, and she turned back to Tahira. "Come along if you want," she replied, her voice bored and uncaring as ever. "Guess you're a better pick than most of these other idiots." The witch was… unsettling, but she had yet to do anything to annoy Kat. Hel didn't trust her, but that didn't say much. Hel rarely trusted anyone. Besides, she was almost as big a mystery to Kat as Bernard was, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't the least bit curious. That's what Kat thought, at least, when she asked herself why now of all times she accepted the idea of another companion on a job.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia watched as not only Mr. Grimmor left the group, but also Miss Mysaren followed suit as well, both of them going over to look for jobs at the board. "Uh, bye?" She called out to them before sitting back in her seat, continuing sipping on the drink Bernard was kind enough to give to her. She watched as the two found jobs and partners for themselves (or in Mr. Grimmor's case, rushing out the door to find his partners). Historia began to wonder if there would be that many jobs left as she watched people still look at all the jobs at the boards. Well, all the well paying jobs would most likely be taken, the ones that had higher difficulty. Historia didn't usually take those jobs, mainly cause she wasn't a very strong fighter. She preferred easier, albeit less paying most of the time, jobs. Historia looked at Miss Claire when she spoke up, asking about looking at the board. "Yes, I was going to take a look at the board anyways. It'd be nice to see what you might want to do as well." Historia told her with a smile as she got up and walked over with her to the board. There was only three jobs that really interested Histoira. A missing memory book that could be anywhere in the city, a quest to find a teenage thief, and a quest to find a lost dog. The dog one would most likely be the easiest to do for Historia as she could just fly above the city and look for it that way. But Miss Claire couldn't fly so that one was out of the question. AS for the one with the thief, Historia didn't really want to get involved with a quest that had a really good chance of confronting someone that might fight back. So for now, that also wasn't a good option. That left the memory book. That was something that she and Claire could do rather easily, and the quest giver was a nobleman so they might get paid decently after all. "Does this sound good to you?" Historia asked Miss Claire as she handed her the paper to look at.</s> <\|message\|>Tahira Raske "Come along if you want," she replied, her voice bored and uncaring as ever. "Guess you're a better pick than most of these other idiots." Kat was clearly on edge. Tahira was not an expert on interpreting body language, but the leopard was eyeing her master uneasily and, considering how close the two were, that was the only cue she needed to sense the woman's discomfort. However, she had long ago learned when it was best to stifle her curiosity. As long as it did not interfere with their mission, the diminutive woman's issues were none of her concern. Cocking her head to the side, she recalled something that might be of use to the two of them. "I believe the library holds a tome which refers to these 'Drakas' at some length," Tahira said. "You can make ready to depart while I retrieve it." Turning her back on the duo, she moved away from the job board and went through the door to the library. Her fingers traced a path along the spine of several books as she moved up and down the shelves, seeking the one she had mentioned. [i]Ah, there[i]. Her hand touched the well-worn bindings of a tome which was simply entitled On Shoba, and penned by an unknown scholar on the subject. She had yet to read it, but its inclusion in the tavern's surprisingly extensive library lent something to its credibility, so she removed it from the shelf, making a note of where it belonged. Leaving the library as quickly as she had entered, she ascended to the second floor to receive the leather satchel that hung from a hook in the wall of her room. Slipping the book into one of its pockets, she returned to the place she had left Kat, satisfied she was prepared.</s> <\|message\|>Katelia (kuh-TELL-ee-uh) Kat stood where Tahira left her for a moment, staring after the woman as she made her way to the library. Stuffing any memories she had down, she thought on the witch. She was a fair sort, didn't talk down to either Kat or Hel, smart, probably useful if you had her on your side… but something about her made Kat want to always know where she was. It was probably just her stoicism and ethereal nature that peaked Kat's curiosity, but still. She looked back to Hel, and said "Watch her, yeah?" This probably meant that any vindictive plans Kat had been concocting were off limits in regards to the jewel. She didn't know much about Tahira, but she struck her as someone respectful and dutiful. She'd probably frown on how Kat was not. The two made their way to their room in the tavern and Kat scooped up her bag, tossing things in or out of it as she thought of what they might need. Once they were done, they walked back to the kitchen and grabbed some handfuls of dried meat ("We killed it, we can take it," she called back to a waitress glaring at them) and filled her water flask from the tap. After that, they made their way back to the area by the board, Tahira already waiting for them. "You ready?" she asked.</s>	<\|message\|>Tahira Raske Tahira was not waiting long for Kat's return, although she did have time to note those who had left on missions and those still discussing them. Rimau and a robed newcomer seemed to be conversing rather amicably, her attire seemed to indicate a knowledge of the arcane which piqued the mystic's curiosity. Perhaps she would find an occasion to speak with her at a later date, for now she still had to familiarize herself with the witch, Margaret. As Kat asked if she was ready, Tahira nodded solemnly. "The cave we seek lies within the forests of Barvra," she said, tugging the satchel higher on her shoulder and straightening her robes. "The journey there should not be too strenuous, but once we delve into the forests it will become rather dangerous," she had studied Elrikur's geography, and new where the forest lay. It would not be too long before they reached their outskirts, depending on how they set their pace.</s>
<\|description\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Race: Zizz (Human-sized Bipedal Lizards, leaning more towards Lizard than Human; think Dinolfos, as opposed to Argonian ) Gender: Male Age: 303 Occupation: Hunter, Tracker and occasional Mercenary. Personality/Interests: Rimau has a rather mercenary approach to life, who desires nothing more than an easygoing job that pays well; preferably one that makes use of his prime talent of 'shooting things'. He's actually quite friendly and chatty if you can get him going, though he has a rather dark sense of humour; he's the sort of fellow who finds flailing burn victims kind of funny, especially if he caused it. Though he can easily come across as cranky and senile (he has a habit of rambling incessantly and ranting about random things), he's actually quite intelligent, at least on a tactical level. Appearance Details: Body build: Possesses a rather lean musculature; is quite fit for his age, but that's not saying much. Hair: What sort of Lizard has hair? Hair colour: See above. Skin colour: Dull, dark green. Can appear quite cracked and dry in places due to his age. Eye colour: Orange. Height/Weight: About 5'0'', but appears shorter since he's usually hunched over. Quite light. Notable Features: Has about four 'whiskers' coming off his chin and jaw that resemble a beard. Also has two bullet scars on his chest, near his heart. Clothing Description: His dress sense could be best described as 'eccentric'. Despite not being an aviator at all, he wears a black leather aviator hat with accompanying goggles, with a set of colourful feathers stitched to the side. He also wears a matching fur-lined leather vest (with the head of a mechanical dinosaur and the words 'Gekko Gras Muriak' stitched to the back), and a bandolier for holding bullets. Aside from this, the rest of him is bare; after all, his kind needs a lot of space to absorb heat. He doesn't have any visible 'equipment', either. Equipment: He has a belt on which he carries assorted items necessary to make his special ammo, such as gunpowder for explosive hollow-point ammo, oil for incendiary ammo, and so on. Of course, these supplies are limited. Weapon(s): His weapon of choice is a Repeating Revolver Rifle affectionately dubbed 'Skrin-Ko' ('Smart' in Zizz language). Like most Zizz technology, it is utilitarian in appearance and made of blackened metal and darkened wood (sort of like this), and has a custom scope attached to the top (made from an old telescope). He also has a machete with a splintered handle, which he uses more as a tool than anything else. Powers: Nothing here. Born on the same level as the rest of his kind. Abilities: As a Zizz, he possesses a tough, scaly hide that is considerably harder to penetrate than human skin. He also has an enhanced sense of smell (from his tongue) and sight, which is particularly useful for his line of work. The Zizz also have the ability to heal from injuries faster than other species, though due to his age it takes over a week at least, and he can no longer grow back entire limbs or anything similarly major. Talents: Crack shot with a Rifle. Has shot people from a mile-and-a-half away (or 2.414 kilometres). He is also something of a handyman; besides repairing Skrin-Ko, he can also jury-rig his own ammo and construct and place an assortment of traps (such as Bear Claws, Trip Mines and anything else he can think of), provided he has the right materials, of course. Magic: While he has no magic of his own, he once hired an enchanter to magically bind Skrin-Ko to him; this means that no-one can fire the Rifle but him. His machete is fair game, however. Miscellaneous Notes: His name, 'Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku', translates to 'Rimau, son of Rimau, times twelve'. It's not his full name. Due to the nature of his work, he often takes medicine to keep him awake for extremely long periods of time. As a consequence, when he's not working, he is something of a heavy sleeper. He prefers warm, sunny, dry climates. He becomes infinitely more grouchy in cold or wet environments. He particularly enjoys smoking various herbal substances with a pipe. Keeps him calm and alert. Sessamaru: "Nice kid. He ain't gonna get far if he don't get more realistic about the ol' warfare, though. Plus, he eats like a Pig." Historia: "Textbook youngster; friendly, wants to travel, real naïve... she'd better shape up or she'll end up a Sunday roast, heh." Saha: "Boy, I'd love to hang her picture on the wall." Katelia: "I like this girl... she ain't got an ounce o' hospitality in her, but fun to watch. Remember to not shoot her cat." Julio: cough cough "Whaddya mean that's a guy?!" Azzrix: "I can't believe the Rodent ain't been put on the choppin' block yet. What kinda thief acts like this?!" Margaret: "I see a bit o' myself in this lady... but she's got a long way to go before she can shoot with the best of 'em. Even with that fancy Crossbow." Naida: "Well, if it ain't my favourite Sprite bartender? I dunno if there's a cocktail she can't make!" Drubbins: "Most Ogre dumb-asses ain't good for much besides easy target practice. This guy... he's somethin' else." Mysaren: "Somethin' ain't right about this kid. She's nice, but... nah, probably nothin'." Tahira: "Not bad, but a bit lackin' in humour, when all's said an' done. I don't think I've ever seen her laugh!" Claire: "Never 'eard of 'er. Is she a looker?" Viggo: "Boy, lemme tell ya... Blunderbuss next to the ear drum? That's frickin' Opera compared to the drivel this kid calls music!" Rouen: "This dumb-ass is pretty funny to listen to. 'Specially his precious Dukedom. The pinnacle of order, huh? Yeah, it's a frickin' circus compared to Tarzblik, kiddo." Felan (Human): "I dunno 'bout this kid. He ain't a dumb-ass, but he ain't exactly fond of hunters, either." Felan (Wolf):"I ain't never seen a dog that big. I'll have to clear some space if I wanted to mount his head on the wall."</s> <\|message\|>Margaret von Eisenberg Spark Just when Margaret thought her prediction about the day would true, a few things happened that spoke otherwise. At first, the one called Azzrix arrived and ordered ale. Perfect! Nothing like a glass of something mild to ease the body out of the hangover. Just as she was about to thank the rat, the light dimmed significantly in the room. Squinting, she found out it was an ogre obstructing her sun. Were it anyone else, she might have gone to complain, but with the sheer size of him and his most likely disproportionate intellect, the witch thought it wise to keep her mouth shut. Oh, and somebody unleashed the magical equivalent of a fart. Oh joy. Fortunately, Margaret wasn't as affected as one might believe. first of all, her affinity for magic was considerably lower than that of a wizard, and second was the little charm hanging around her neck. It was a silver chain with a stylized figure of a human hanging on it, with it's head replaced by a sapphire decorated with cracks that were tainted in crimson. the stone seemed to be giving off a faint glow that was diminishing slowly. Still, it wasn't anything she would like to repeat. If only because it made the bartender use that hellish bell that made her head ring for long minutes afterwards. She was soon distracted form her misery though as she was approached by someone. Looking at the source of the question, her eyes fell on a robed woman, possibly younger than herself but who could tell under that hood. Tahira, was it? She has seen - or rather not - her around the library. It sparked a little bit of interest in the witch, even if only a professional one. "Aye, it wasn't anything worth repeating. Much like most of the musical numbers around here." Margaret nodded, waving her hand to an empty chair at the table she was occupying. "But these things make wonders." she said and tucked on the charm around her neck.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren felt the burst of energy, and felt Historia's wings close around her. She was forced back into her seat, her hand slipping from her blade again from the force of it all. It all happened so fast, and her entire body shook by the end of it, her mouth held open. She had her hand on her bag, about to run, but decided to stay. Some of the commotion had finally calmed down, and the plate was set in front of her by one of the mysterious men the owner brought in. "T-thanks." She gulped to Historia. She started to nibble on her food, her hunger replaced by panic and hysteria. Yet, the screaming still hadn't started. This was past weird, and ventured into utterly terrifying. A burst of energy like that should've killed something, he knew it. One of the older folks in the tavern, hell even a gnat on the wall, but death seemed to escape this place, and it scared her. Death was natural, something that was around every corner. Mysaren was almost too well acquainted with how common death was, especially in a tavern like this, but she felt a deep worry in her chest. Something was off. She started to eat anyways, though. Maybe the lack of food recently was makin her a bit skittish. She still scarfed down the meal quickly though, not caring that anyone was watching. She was starving, utterly and truly starving, and a hot meal was happily accepted. She still needed a bath though, a bath and some nice clothes. That would make the day go a whole lot better.</s>	<\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku The old Zizz soon descended the stairs and entered the main room of the tavern, scanning his head from left to right. It was considerably busier than usual this morning, he noticed. Lots of strange folk hanging around, too. There was some fancy-pants Rodent hanging about; could've sworn he's seen that one before. But there was something even stranger next to him; a giant Ogre was standing there with a pint in his hand (seemed like a woefully inadequate amount for a creature of his size), laughing in the Rodent's face. He couldn't see the Rodent's face, and that was a shame, because he'd probably have been putting on a funny expression. Off in one of the corners, he squinted at the redhead witch hanging about in the shade. It wasn't an evil squint, mind you, but a competitive squint; he had been at the tavern for about a week now, and had had ample opportunity to acquaint himself with that one. He couldn't help but admire her ingenuity with that Crossbow of hers. She could prove problematic if any big-time mercenary work pops up, with all that old-school magic of hers. Cheating? Yes, but only if you got caught. Then there was that Sheep herder at one of the tables. Best ignore that one, he thought. He'd been sneaking about 'his' land again, and he didn't seem to have a good sense of humour. The sort of person who'd go nuts if you so much as mentioned the idea of controlling animal population. Which was a shame, given the enormous Wolf he'd spotted in the area. That was going to prove quite the prize, when he had some free time. What was particularly irritating at this time in the morning, though, was the sheer business of the place. The Zizz usually sat in one of the comfy seats off in the corner somewhere, but it seemed like that area was flooded with young fools getting drunk at nine A.M., or whatever time it was. Morons! They'd probably end up dead before the day was done, he thought as he chuckled to himself slightly, though not forgetting his irritation. As a result of these morons, however, the Zizz was forced to manuever his way past quite a few patrons (not an easy task thanks to his height and tail swaying about) and clamber up on top a lone stool at the bar, somewhere he rarely ever sat. There was a good reason for this, which made itself apparent pretty soon. Ignoring the great wall that was the Ogre to his left, he rummaged about in one of his belt pockets to retrieve his prized Pipe, made of dark wood as per usual Zizz preference. Removing the little cap to stop all the pre-packed 'medicinal' herbs from falling out, he removed a match from the same pocket and attempted to strike it against the bar. No luck. He tried it again, and again, and about six more 'agains' before he could finally squeeze a little flame off it, grumbling to himself the entire time. That was another weird thing about the tavern; it always took more effort to light matches. Some sort of newfangled suppression field, perhaps, which might also explain the sheer lack of the usual bar fights he'd seen in... just about every other tavern he'd been to. Except the ones in Tarzblik, obviously. For entirely different reasons. Finally, he stuck his Pipe in his toothy mouth and lit it with the match, waving it about afterwards to turn the fire into a little smoke puff. Of course, that was nothing compared to what happened afterwards as the Zizz began to actually smoke said Pipe, releasing much bigger puffs of smoke which spread across the bar. Of course the Zizz didn't particularly care for any inconvenience this may cause, since the calming herbal sensation had him captivated. It was enough to make him grin again, in that classic terrifying fashion Zizz were known for.</s>
<\|description\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Race: Zizz (Human-sized Bipedal Lizards, leaning more towards Lizard than Human; think Dinolfos, as opposed to Argonian ) Gender: Male Age: 303 Occupation: Hunter, Tracker and occasional Mercenary. Personality/Interests: Rimau has a rather mercenary approach to life, who desires nothing more than an easygoing job that pays well; preferably one that makes use of his prime talent of 'shooting things'. He's actually quite friendly and chatty if you can get him going, though he has a rather dark sense of humour; he's the sort of fellow who finds flailing burn victims kind of funny, especially if he caused it. Though he can easily come across as cranky and senile (he has a habit of rambling incessantly and ranting about random things), he's actually quite intelligent, at least on a tactical level. Appearance Details: Body build: Possesses a rather lean musculature; is quite fit for his age, but that's not saying much. Hair: What sort of Lizard has hair? Hair colour: See above. Skin colour: Dull, dark green. Can appear quite cracked and dry in places due to his age. Eye colour: Orange. Height/Weight: About 5'0'', but appears shorter since he's usually hunched over. Quite light. Notable Features: Has about four 'whiskers' coming off his chin and jaw that resemble a beard. Also has two bullet scars on his chest, near his heart. Clothing Description: His dress sense could be best described as 'eccentric'. Despite not being an aviator at all, he wears a black leather aviator hat with accompanying goggles, with a set of colourful feathers stitched to the side. He also wears a matching fur-lined leather vest (with the head of a mechanical dinosaur and the words 'Gekko Gras Muriak' stitched to the back), and a bandolier for holding bullets. Aside from this, the rest of him is bare; after all, his kind needs a lot of space to absorb heat. He doesn't have any visible 'equipment', either. Equipment: He has a belt on which he carries assorted items necessary to make his special ammo, such as gunpowder for explosive hollow-point ammo, oil for incendiary ammo, and so on. Of course, these supplies are limited. Weapon(s): His weapon of choice is a Repeating Revolver Rifle affectionately dubbed 'Skrin-Ko' ('Smart' in Zizz language). Like most Zizz technology, it is utilitarian in appearance and made of blackened metal and darkened wood (sort of like this), and has a custom scope attached to the top (made from an old telescope). He also has a machete with a splintered handle, which he uses more as a tool than anything else. Powers: Nothing here. Born on the same level as the rest of his kind. Abilities: As a Zizz, he possesses a tough, scaly hide that is considerably harder to penetrate than human skin. He also has an enhanced sense of smell (from his tongue) and sight, which is particularly useful for his line of work. The Zizz also have the ability to heal from injuries faster than other species, though due to his age it takes over a week at least, and he can no longer grow back entire limbs or anything similarly major. Talents: Crack shot with a Rifle. Has shot people from a mile-and-a-half away (or 2.414 kilometres). He is also something of a handyman; besides repairing Skrin-Ko, he can also jury-rig his own ammo and construct and place an assortment of traps (such as Bear Claws, Trip Mines and anything else he can think of), provided he has the right materials, of course. Magic: While he has no magic of his own, he once hired an enchanter to magically bind Skrin-Ko to him; this means that no-one can fire the Rifle but him. His machete is fair game, however. Miscellaneous Notes: His name, 'Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku', translates to 'Rimau, son of Rimau, times twelve'. It's not his full name. Due to the nature of his work, he often takes medicine to keep him awake for extremely long periods of time. As a consequence, when he's not working, he is something of a heavy sleeper. He prefers warm, sunny, dry climates. He becomes infinitely more grouchy in cold or wet environments. He particularly enjoys smoking various herbal substances with a pipe. Keeps him calm and alert. Sessamaru: "Nice kid. He ain't gonna get far if he don't get more realistic about the ol' warfare, though. Plus, he eats like a Pig." Historia: "Textbook youngster; friendly, wants to travel, real naïve... she'd better shape up or she'll end up a Sunday roast, heh." Saha: "Boy, I'd love to hang her picture on the wall." Katelia: "I like this girl... she ain't got an ounce o' hospitality in her, but fun to watch. Remember to not shoot her cat." Julio: cough cough "Whaddya mean that's a guy?!" Azzrix: "I can't believe the Rodent ain't been put on the choppin' block yet. What kinda thief acts like this?!" Margaret: "I see a bit o' myself in this lady... but she's got a long way to go before she can shoot with the best of 'em. Even with that fancy Crossbow." Naida: "Well, if it ain't my favourite Sprite bartender? I dunno if there's a cocktail she can't make!" Drubbins: "Most Ogre dumb-asses ain't good for much besides easy target practice. This guy... he's somethin' else." Mysaren: "Somethin' ain't right about this kid. She's nice, but... nah, probably nothin'." Tahira: "Not bad, but a bit lackin' in humour, when all's said an' done. I don't think I've ever seen her laugh!" Claire: "Never 'eard of 'er. Is she a looker?" Viggo: "Boy, lemme tell ya... Blunderbuss next to the ear drum? That's frickin' Opera compared to the drivel this kid calls music!" Rouen: "This dumb-ass is pretty funny to listen to. 'Specially his precious Dukedom. The pinnacle of order, huh? Yeah, it's a frickin' circus compared to Tarzblik, kiddo." Felan (Human): "I dunno 'bout this kid. He ain't a dumb-ass, but he ain't exactly fond of hunters, either." Felan (Wolf):"I ain't never seen a dog that big. I'll have to clear some space if I wanted to mount his head on the wall."</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was still drinking when he saw the altercation go on between Kat and the newcomer. Had he not drank so much then he would have tried to break it up, but the alcohol made the idea of fight seem entertaining and he was tempted to start cheering them on, but Historia intervened, which was a bit of a surprise since she seemed very shy to him, but she actually went up to talk to a big swordsmen who seemed to have electrical powers. "Very well, little lady. I must thank you for reminding my of my post. After all manners do make the man," he said looking at her. "I shall cause no further trouble in your abode, have a good day." he heard Rouen say, he already liked this newcomer already. It was a rare thing to find such discipline, he had to be of noble birth to have manners like that Azzrix thought to himself, maybe they could work together eventually, he never objected to having more muscle in his party. He walked over to where Historia, Claire and Mysaren were sitting to start up a conversation. "That was an admirible attempt at ending their argument before it became a fight" he said to Historia. He then looked at the other two with her and gave a polite bow. "Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Azzrix Grimmor. I am paying for all of the drinks so please drink whatever you like. I hope that we can do business sometime in the near future" he said to them with a smile.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren nodded. Yes, she just wanted to show concern for Historia, that's all. She had seen too many good kids lose everything just because they got a bit too hopeful. "I just don't wish to be rude, Historia," She said after a while, her voice low and dark, "just remember that bad things can happen to good people. Watch out for yourself. At least you have me now, yeah?" At the last sentence, she grinned again, sighing and watching the patrons of the bar. "A tour?" She said, considering the possibility. Yes, a tour would be very nice. All she knew about was the tavern and the graveyard, but knowing of the other houses and buildings, especially a shop to sell her wares, would be very useful to know about. Especially anywhere she could run to in case of trouble, or in case that she needed to grab a lot of items and get the hell out of town, which had happened a few times. The guards would be called, she would grab everything she can within the nearest big house she could find, and she fled, never to be seen again. Mysaren paid little attention to the fight about to start, even when Historia got involved. She could say with about 90% accuracy that no one would've died from the fight, at least not within the first while of it. Historia handled it surprisingly well, in a more diplomatic way than she would've. Historia spoke and Mysaren looked at her. "Uhm, tour around town, things like that. That would be very useful, thank you, Historia." She didn't like that she was making friends at this point. Friends just kept her in town longer, and if she wasn't on the move constantly, someone would finally catch up to her, and thus ends the story of Mysaren. Mysaren looked up as Azzrix introduced himself, raising an eyebrow and watching him carefully. "Mysaren. Pleasure." She said rather bluntly, something off about the man in front of her. He seemed shady to her, and she didn't exactly feel like trusting him right now. Ah, what the hell, benefit of the doubt, right? She still looked wary as he spoke. "Thank you for the drinks, Azzrix, but tell me, what business did you have in mind?"</s> <\|message\|>Sessamaru (pronounced: SES-Uh-MAAR-OO; also known as "Sess") [Rupert] Rupert hopped around for a good while until Naida came by with a ball of ice wrapped in a towel. However, when she handed it to the old man, he was too unfocused to keep a hold of the item, causing it to fall onto his other foot. "Yow!" He cried, slamming his other foot down and raising the other one to hold. However, his face lit up like a flame and he dropped the other foot to grasp the other, continuing this as he cried and cursed. This continued for a good while, causing Rupert to hop around the entire bar switching feet as he hopped around. [Sessamaru] The half-breed looked at Naida as she helped him hold the ball of ice over his stomach as she help raised him to his feet, and he smiled, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. "Indeed, Miss Naida," he told her, laughing. "I feel bad for Mister Rupert, though. He will not get to enjoy his drink for a good while." Sessamaru stood up right and placed the ice-towel onto the bar, scratching the back of his head; an unorthodox habit of his. "Honestly though, I am quite fine. Nothing more than a bit of shock." He explained, his smile becoming a wide grin. However, the moment the sentence ended, his stomach let out a ferocious growl, reminiscent of a jungle cat! The half-breed bent forward, holding his stomach. "Except that," he groaned. "Miss Naida, may I have some food, please?" Sess asked, his stomach once again growling with hunger. This ground made the fox-eared youth sink to the floor. Already he could smell the food in the kitchen, causing yet another roar from his stomach. "Ugh..." he moaned, attempting to crawl his way up a stool. "Fooooooood..."</s>	<\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "...Y'sure 'bout that, mister?" Rimau asked, quizically turning his eyes upward as if to actually look quite worried about his Sheep. Of course it wasn't really that bad; there's lots more Sheep in the world. "...Okay, if y'say so. I do believe we live in a... 'democracy' 'ere." He said, recognising the man's choice as an adult, but at the same time making an 'inverted commas' gesture when he said 'democracy'; something of a foreign and kind of silly concept to the old Zizz. "Jus' remember, if that big-ass canid starts a lil' bloodbath at y'pasture, you come an' see me." The Zizz concluded with confidence that this would not be the last Felan heard about this, taking another puff into Felan's big, humourless face before he pulled his chair away, clambering back to the floor. "'Ave a superb day, mister." Soon after that was over with, he found himself turning back to witness that other old guy at the bar, the one that always complained about literally everything. Seemed like he was doing some kind of ritual dance, going 'wowowowow' like some kind a... he didn't even know what. "What in Gekko's name... pffffftthehehehe!" He muttered in response, causing him to clinch his gut in his stifled laughter as he walked over to the bar again, coughing as he approached another barstool. Clambering back up to the bar, he noticed the Rodent was still there, still making himself look like a fool, it seemed. Even better, Naida had returned, though she was still talking with that dog-eared kid. "'Ey, Naida, m'lady, y'back!" He said pleasantly, putting on his toothy grin again. "Terribly sorry for the ramblin' again, but I still 'aven't 'ad m'juice. But no rush. By th'way, what in th'ell was up w'that dumb-ass back there, the one with th'big-ass compensator sword?" He asked, pointing towards said dumb-ass, who for some reason was still standing even after the crazy cat lady had yelled at him. From what he had gathered, when the crazy cat lady got mad, she tended to hurt people. Then again... newfangled suppression field.</s>
<\|description\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Race: Zizz (Human-sized Bipedal Lizards, leaning more towards Lizard than Human; think Dinolfos, as opposed to Argonian ) Gender: Male Age: 303 Occupation: Hunter, Tracker and occasional Mercenary. Personality/Interests: Rimau has a rather mercenary approach to life, who desires nothing more than an easygoing job that pays well; preferably one that makes use of his prime talent of 'shooting things'. He's actually quite friendly and chatty if you can get him going, though he has a rather dark sense of humour; he's the sort of fellow who finds flailing burn victims kind of funny, especially if he caused it. Though he can easily come across as cranky and senile (he has a habit of rambling incessantly and ranting about random things), he's actually quite intelligent, at least on a tactical level. Appearance Details: Body build: Possesses a rather lean musculature; is quite fit for his age, but that's not saying much. Hair: What sort of Lizard has hair? Hair colour: See above. Skin colour: Dull, dark green. Can appear quite cracked and dry in places due to his age. Eye colour: Orange. Height/Weight: About 5'0'', but appears shorter since he's usually hunched over. Quite light. Notable Features: Has about four 'whiskers' coming off his chin and jaw that resemble a beard. Also has two bullet scars on his chest, near his heart. Clothing Description: His dress sense could be best described as 'eccentric'. Despite not being an aviator at all, he wears a black leather aviator hat with accompanying goggles, with a set of colourful feathers stitched to the side. He also wears a matching fur-lined leather vest (with the head of a mechanical dinosaur and the words 'Gekko Gras Muriak' stitched to the back), and a bandolier for holding bullets. Aside from this, the rest of him is bare; after all, his kind needs a lot of space to absorb heat. He doesn't have any visible 'equipment', either. Equipment: He has a belt on which he carries assorted items necessary to make his special ammo, such as gunpowder for explosive hollow-point ammo, oil for incendiary ammo, and so on. Of course, these supplies are limited. Weapon(s): His weapon of choice is a Repeating Revolver Rifle affectionately dubbed 'Skrin-Ko' ('Smart' in Zizz language). Like most Zizz technology, it is utilitarian in appearance and made of blackened metal and darkened wood (sort of like this), and has a custom scope attached to the top (made from an old telescope). He also has a machete with a splintered handle, which he uses more as a tool than anything else. Powers: Nothing here. Born on the same level as the rest of his kind. Abilities: As a Zizz, he possesses a tough, scaly hide that is considerably harder to penetrate than human skin. He also has an enhanced sense of smell (from his tongue) and sight, which is particularly useful for his line of work. The Zizz also have the ability to heal from injuries faster than other species, though due to his age it takes over a week at least, and he can no longer grow back entire limbs or anything similarly major. Talents: Crack shot with a Rifle. Has shot people from a mile-and-a-half away (or 2.414 kilometres). He is also something of a handyman; besides repairing Skrin-Ko, he can also jury-rig his own ammo and construct and place an assortment of traps (such as Bear Claws, Trip Mines and anything else he can think of), provided he has the right materials, of course. Magic: While he has no magic of his own, he once hired an enchanter to magically bind Skrin-Ko to him; this means that no-one can fire the Rifle but him. His machete is fair game, however. Miscellaneous Notes: His name, 'Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku', translates to 'Rimau, son of Rimau, times twelve'. It's not his full name. Due to the nature of his work, he often takes medicine to keep him awake for extremely long periods of time. As a consequence, when he's not working, he is something of a heavy sleeper. He prefers warm, sunny, dry climates. He becomes infinitely more grouchy in cold or wet environments. He particularly enjoys smoking various herbal substances with a pipe. Keeps him calm and alert. Sessamaru: "Nice kid. He ain't gonna get far if he don't get more realistic about the ol' warfare, though. Plus, he eats like a Pig." Historia: "Textbook youngster; friendly, wants to travel, real naïve... she'd better shape up or she'll end up a Sunday roast, heh." Saha: "Boy, I'd love to hang her picture on the wall." Katelia: "I like this girl... she ain't got an ounce o' hospitality in her, but fun to watch. Remember to not shoot her cat." Julio: cough cough "Whaddya mean that's a guy?!" Azzrix: "I can't believe the Rodent ain't been put on the choppin' block yet. What kinda thief acts like this?!" Margaret: "I see a bit o' myself in this lady... but she's got a long way to go before she can shoot with the best of 'em. Even with that fancy Crossbow." Naida: "Well, if it ain't my favourite Sprite bartender? I dunno if there's a cocktail she can't make!" Drubbins: "Most Ogre dumb-asses ain't good for much besides easy target practice. This guy... he's somethin' else." Mysaren: "Somethin' ain't right about this kid. She's nice, but... nah, probably nothin'." Tahira: "Not bad, but a bit lackin' in humour, when all's said an' done. I don't think I've ever seen her laugh!" Claire: "Never 'eard of 'er. Is she a looker?" Viggo: "Boy, lemme tell ya... Blunderbuss next to the ear drum? That's frickin' Opera compared to the drivel this kid calls music!" Rouen: "This dumb-ass is pretty funny to listen to. 'Specially his precious Dukedom. The pinnacle of order, huh? Yeah, it's a frickin' circus compared to Tarzblik, kiddo." Felan (Human): "I dunno 'bout this kid. He ain't a dumb-ass, but he ain't exactly fond of hunters, either." Felan (Wolf):"I ain't never seen a dog that big. I'll have to clear some space if I wanted to mount his head on the wall."</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix heard their responses and was slightly disappointed that Mysaren wasn't interested in going on missions with him yet, but he decided that he would have to wait for some other time. Azzrix excused himself to go look at the mission board and then he overheard Naida talking about a mission to find the daughter of a patron to the tavern who had gone missing. Azzrix also heard her mention the possibility of the patron being rich and he became even more interested. He then noticed a commotion going on in the kitchen and saw the weird dog like man run out with a pot of stew with the cooks screaming at him as he fled. Azzrix shook his head at the foolishness of the man, he would make a terrible thief if that's what he thought was worth stealing. Azzrix was interested in the mission so he followed them to wherever they were headed. He decided to follow Naida and soon saw that she was headed back to her home. Azzrix thought that it would be best to quickly go get his things. He quickly headed back to the place where he was staying to get his things and change his clothes. Once in his room he put on his darker robes and traveling cloak which were his thieving clothes when he wasn't robbing people in plain sight. Azzrix attached his rapier and Parrying Dagger to his belt and got his throwing knives and hand crossbow. Once he got the arrows for his crossbow Azzrix left his home and went look for Naida. He eventually found her waiting around and walked up to her calmly. "If you don't mind I would like to partake in this mission, a person with my kind of talents would be a great asset on a mission like this" he said to her with a polite tone to his voice.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "If y'say so, m'good... person." Rimau said after listening to what the Priest had to say, still unsure over what pronouns to use. He scratched his head as the Priest's words came tumbling into his mind, and back out again. 'Heh... poor kid.' He thought, remembering the standards of life set for him and the rest of his kind. 'Where I come from, people who try an' see the light usually end up makin' a bloody mess of 'emselves on the streets, heheh.' He was about to shake his hand, until his attention was stolen by the big-pauldron dumbass. The Zizz squinted at that man with suspicion for a good while, listening in on his words. He didn't say that much, but he had a blank expression of purpose on his face, something Rimau was all too familiar with, to the point of it seemingly transcending the racial boundaries. It was the sort of expression made by a dedicated servant. A loyal attack dog. There was something about him that Rimau just didn't like, beyond simply looking ridiculous with his oversized equipment. Rimau decided to turn away from him until he walked away from the nearby mission board, slapping the side of his head. He was worrying too much. Once he was out the way, Rimau took the opportunity to leave a coin on the bar (with the face of someone he didn't recognise on it) and turn his head around to inspect the board; his eyesight enabled him to see what was on the papers without having to clamber down and navigate the masses again; it wasn't that far away, anyways. "Well now, what do we 'ave 'ere?" He muttered to himself as he took a look, scratching the side of his chin. There were a few jobs in the city, which weren't really his thing; he'd seen enough of urban warfare in his time, and none of them seemed suited to his skillset anyway. Ignoring the fetch-quests, there were a couple of jobs offered by some local noblemen. They both demanded the return of something, that something having been stolen from them. One of them, a golden mask, and the other, his daughter. The rescue mission seemed easier, with the tribe responsible for the kidnapping in open territory, but Rimau was never one for babysitting spoilt princess-types. Plus, if he knew human nobility, they'd pay a lot more for a trinket than for their trophy daughters. Tough decision.</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren Mysaren stood to stretch, noticing the mission board cleared up a bit. Fine, she'd go look. She waltzed over, to looking at the papers curiously. She noticed a specific mission, one about a thief and a golden mask. Seemed easy enough, and returning something that expensive had to have a good reward for it. She grabbed the paper, looking at it curiously before smiling. Yeah, she could do this. She needed someone to do it with though, she knew that. As helpful as necromancy was, it wasn't exactly the most useful of powers in combat. Talking with the dead and raising them to fight for her was great, and bodies were kinda plentiful around these parts, but it required a lot of energy, and she wasn't the best of controlling them. She felt someone staring at her, and she turned, her eyes darting to the lizard guy. Oh yeah, that ass. Well, maybe he was nice, just a bit rude in the "don't blow smoke all around the tavern." department. Was he looking at her, or... Surely his eyesight couldn't be that good? She didn't really know anything about whatever species he was, besides, well, they were obviously rather large lizards.</s>	<\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau was about to look further into the job about the golden mask when the paper was suddenly taken off the board by some kid in fancy robes. He attempted to position himself in such a manner that he could continue reading, but no such luck; the kid was simply too big for him to not obscure Rimau's vision. He screwed up his face and grumbled for a brief moment. Alas, if he could see through solid objects, not only would he be the world's greatest marksman, without a doubt, but this sort of annoyance wouldn't happen. Soon, however, the kid suddenly turned around and looked Rimau directly in the eyes, the invisible 'force' of which prompted Rimau's own eyes to widen and his the line that was his mouth to upturn in a more friendly manner. It was then he realised something; the kid was actually a woman. A square-jawed woman, sure, but still a woman. Those were some thick robes. The sort of robes Rimau would die in if he wore them. Deciding that you can always get more done in life if you're nice to people, Rimau decided to clamber down off of his stool and make his way over to the lady; as fun as it was to keep rivalries, most of the time it tended to be impractical and juvenile to insist on a professional rivalry with a specific individual, especially if the job was well-paying. Merely competing with other mercs and hunters was a fact of business. But 'sportsmanlike' rivalry? Laughable. "Heyo there, kid. Couldn't 'elp but notice y'took down that mighty interestin' job proposition off the wall. ...Can't say I've seen y'round 'ere before, either." He said as he approached the lady, that weird muffle effect the Tavern seemed to have turning on. He stopped to look her over, see if she was the trustworthy type. She was certainly a lot taller than she looked, even taller than most humans he'd seen, who all tended to be taller than Rimau anyway. Made them easier to target. Raising one brow, he looked over her scars; clearly, she had experience with fighting, then. You don't get the sorts of scars on her face from cutting yourself while shaving... not that she'd need to shave, but still. Her attire seemed to suggest a magic user; magic and him didn't get along too well, but its practitioners had their uses. Their flashy tricks were very distracting for most people, and Skrin'Ko was indeed bound to him by an enchantier. Very nice fellow, he was. After a few seconds, Rimau decided he may as well introduce himself; after all, a name doesn't convey much. But he kept his hands close to his body, in case she was the twitchy kind. "...Th'name's Rimau. Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku, but that's, uh... well, y'don't wanna know m'full name. Believe me, some'un once asked for it, an' lemme tell ya... uh, never mind. What's your name, kid?" He asked, smiling a little.</s>
<\|description\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Race: Zizz (Human-sized Bipedal Lizards, leaning more towards Lizard than Human; think Dinolfos, as opposed to Argonian ) Gender: Male Age: 303 Occupation: Hunter, Tracker and occasional Mercenary. Personality/Interests: Rimau has a rather mercenary approach to life, who desires nothing more than an easygoing job that pays well; preferably one that makes use of his prime talent of 'shooting things'. He's actually quite friendly and chatty if you can get him going, though he has a rather dark sense of humour; he's the sort of fellow who finds flailing burn victims kind of funny, especially if he caused it. Though he can easily come across as cranky and senile (he has a habit of rambling incessantly and ranting about random things), he's actually quite intelligent, at least on a tactical level. Appearance Details: Body build: Possesses a rather lean musculature; is quite fit for his age, but that's not saying much. Hair: What sort of Lizard has hair? Hair colour: See above. Skin colour: Dull, dark green. Can appear quite cracked and dry in places due to his age. Eye colour: Orange. Height/Weight: About 5'0'', but appears shorter since he's usually hunched over. Quite light. Notable Features: Has about four 'whiskers' coming off his chin and jaw that resemble a beard. Also has two bullet scars on his chest, near his heart. Clothing Description: His dress sense could be best described as 'eccentric'. Despite not being an aviator at all, he wears a black leather aviator hat with accompanying goggles, with a set of colourful feathers stitched to the side. He also wears a matching fur-lined leather vest (with the head of a mechanical dinosaur and the words 'Gekko Gras Muriak' stitched to the back), and a bandolier for holding bullets. Aside from this, the rest of him is bare; after all, his kind needs a lot of space to absorb heat. He doesn't have any visible 'equipment', either. Equipment: He has a belt on which he carries assorted items necessary to make his special ammo, such as gunpowder for explosive hollow-point ammo, oil for incendiary ammo, and so on. Of course, these supplies are limited. Weapon(s): His weapon of choice is a Repeating Revolver Rifle affectionately dubbed 'Skrin-Ko' ('Smart' in Zizz language). Like most Zizz technology, it is utilitarian in appearance and made of blackened metal and darkened wood (sort of like this), and has a custom scope attached to the top (made from an old telescope). He also has a machete with a splintered handle, which he uses more as a tool than anything else. Powers: Nothing here. Born on the same level as the rest of his kind. Abilities: As a Zizz, he possesses a tough, scaly hide that is considerably harder to penetrate than human skin. He also has an enhanced sense of smell (from his tongue) and sight, which is particularly useful for his line of work. The Zizz also have the ability to heal from injuries faster than other species, though due to his age it takes over a week at least, and he can no longer grow back entire limbs or anything similarly major. Talents: Crack shot with a Rifle. Has shot people from a mile-and-a-half away (or 2.414 kilometres). He is also something of a handyman; besides repairing Skrin-Ko, he can also jury-rig his own ammo and construct and place an assortment of traps (such as Bear Claws, Trip Mines and anything else he can think of), provided he has the right materials, of course. Magic: While he has no magic of his own, he once hired an enchanter to magically bind Skrin-Ko to him; this means that no-one can fire the Rifle but him. His machete is fair game, however. Miscellaneous Notes: His name, 'Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku', translates to 'Rimau, son of Rimau, times twelve'. It's not his full name. Due to the nature of his work, he often takes medicine to keep him awake for extremely long periods of time. As a consequence, when he's not working, he is something of a heavy sleeper. He prefers warm, sunny, dry climates. He becomes infinitely more grouchy in cold or wet environments. He particularly enjoys smoking various herbal substances with a pipe. Keeps him calm and alert. Sessamaru: "Nice kid. He ain't gonna get far if he don't get more realistic about the ol' warfare, though. Plus, he eats like a Pig." Historia: "Textbook youngster; friendly, wants to travel, real naïve... she'd better shape up or she'll end up a Sunday roast, heh." Saha: "Boy, I'd love to hang her picture on the wall." Katelia: "I like this girl... she ain't got an ounce o' hospitality in her, but fun to watch. Remember to not shoot her cat." Julio: cough cough "Whaddya mean that's a guy?!" Azzrix: "I can't believe the Rodent ain't been put on the choppin' block yet. What kinda thief acts like this?!" Margaret: "I see a bit o' myself in this lady... but she's got a long way to go before she can shoot with the best of 'em. Even with that fancy Crossbow." Naida: "Well, if it ain't my favourite Sprite bartender? I dunno if there's a cocktail she can't make!" Drubbins: "Most Ogre dumb-asses ain't good for much besides easy target practice. This guy... he's somethin' else." Mysaren: "Somethin' ain't right about this kid. She's nice, but... nah, probably nothin'." Tahira: "Not bad, but a bit lackin' in humour, when all's said an' done. I don't think I've ever seen her laugh!" Claire: "Never 'eard of 'er. Is she a looker?" Viggo: "Boy, lemme tell ya... Blunderbuss next to the ear drum? That's frickin' Opera compared to the drivel this kid calls music!" Rouen: "This dumb-ass is pretty funny to listen to. 'Specially his precious Dukedom. The pinnacle of order, huh? Yeah, it's a frickin' circus compared to Tarzblik, kiddo." Felan (Human): "I dunno 'bout this kid. He ain't a dumb-ass, but he ain't exactly fond of hunters, either." Felan (Wolf):"I ain't never seen a dog that big. I'll have to clear some space if I wanted to mount his head on the wall."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire trailed after Historia to the board. She wasn't even going to pretend to read the board, once the paper was presented to her she looked it over once. She could put together...the word 'book' but that's all she could manage. "Uh..." she tried not to frown. Her cheeks were a tad pink. "Would you...explain it to me?" She gave a pleading look to her partner. She was sure that whatever they were being set out to do, she could handle it. Though she didn't want to sign up for anything she disliked or disagreed with. Of course with the person suggesting it, anything shady was likely not an option. Still, pretending to know something wen you don't is a lie, and lie's are wrong. "I..." She wanted to pick a word to explain her lack of knowledge. She struggled, nothing was coming to mind that she could...bear to say aloud. She gave small looks to people around her. She didn't want to admit her faults in such a public place. Admitting to someone she just met was a bit much already... "I would appreciate it..." she decided, her comment almost a hush.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia looked at her, confused for a moment, until she pieced it together. "Oh! sure!" Historia said, not even going to try and ask if her suspicions about why Miss Claire was asking her to read it were true. It looked like it made Miss Claire to embarrassed to tell Historia anyhow. "So basically, there's this elderly nobleman. He had a memory book, of his life I presume, and has lost it. This quest page doesn't give out too much information, so I can't really say how easy or how safe this quest will be, but seeing how a memory book only has sentimental value, not tangible value, I don't imagine we'd be fighting any thiefs. Overall, it sounds like something reality simple, pretty safe, and has the possiblity of a good reward to spilt between the two of us." Historia told her. In a more hushed voice, Historia leaned towards Miss Claire a bit, and added, "And um...if you ever need help with...anything like this again, and I'm near by, I'd be happy to help." She gave her a surrporting smile.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins Drubbins trundled up to the job board, holding one platter of pancakes in his hand and just picking them up and plopping them, whole, in his mouth. It was right nice of that bloke to clear up that confusion and but him all these pancakes. He liked that bloke. While he'd been eating, though, it looked like one of the bosses underlings had put some real jobs up on that board. He reached over and ripped one down, then held it up over his head. This had worked before, so he called out. "OI! Who 'ere can read?"</s> <\|message\|>Rouen Fulgur It had been half a day since Rouen left the tavern. He walked down a dirt path deep inside a forest. A small piece of paper was folded up in his right hand. To his right he heard the steady of trickle of water from the river flowing parallel to the trail and the wind whooshing past his face. That however, was all he hard besides the soft scrunch of dry leaves against his boots. "This is strange. No sound of any birds or wildlife. I don't even hear a gadfly. What is going on in this forest?" he wondered. His swiveled his head looking at the eerily empty forest. In the horizon, Rouen could see the setting sun slowly retreating behind the mountains. Soon the orange light would fade and darkness would descend. "Whatever, I'm almost there," he thought and unfolded the paper. It had drawings of landmarks and trails in the nearby area. Land Navigation and creating rough maps was one of the basic skills he learned in his time as a squire. He had been in the area for a few weeks and took the time to mark some terrain features. "Now if I'm right this cave should be a hundred imperial units from where this river ends," he thought. An imperial unit was a hallmark from the days of Deardmadtha rule. Rouen begrudgingly acknowledged that a standard of measurement was one of the few good things that resulted from their empire. He looked ahead and saw a pond that the river poured into. A beaten path could be seen through the brush. "Well, at least I know where this cave is," he thought. "And it probably isn't abandoned." Rouen folded the paper and put it in his satchel. He pulled a stick with some rags wrapped around it on one end. Removing a glove, he let one finger near the wrapped end of the makeshift torch. Small sparks arced from his finger to the cloth, causing it to smoke and then burst into flame. New light lit up the area around Rouen. " Let us see what haunts these woods," he thought putting his glove back on and holding the torch up high. He walked down the beaten path with the lit torch. The sun finally disappeared behind the horizon and nightfall descended onto the forest.</s>	<\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau's expression turned a little uneasy when Mysaren started talking about the transportation, or lack thereof. Don't get him wrong, Rimau was not lazy at all, no matter what the macho sword-swinging types said. It was just the weather he was worried about. It might make him act erratically, a thought that was enough to distract him from Mysaren's comment on his little joke. Or maybe it instead distracted her from his uneasiness. "Alright, well... walkin' it is, I s'pose." He conceded, rubbed the back of his neck. Sure, she mentioned she could find something else, but what were the chances? Horses didn't really like the old lizard, anyway, they always got worked up around him for some reason. Three-hundred-and-three years old and he still hadn't figured out why. "I should confess, I ain't too big on mountains an' such." He said with added honesty. "Too cold. An' us Zizz, we get real pissy when it ain't warm an' dry. It ain't nothin' personal if I start criticisin' life itself, heheh. Sooner we get t'where these dumbasses are, th'better, wouldn'tya say?" He finalised, restoring his previous optimism. Rightly so, of course. Between him and this lady, he was sure that these dumbasses would stand no chance. Even if she wasn't that good. Placing his now-empty Pipe back in its place on his belt, Rimau walked across the wooden floor, now a bit clearer, and poked his long neck out the window. He coughed slightly, since it felt like he stuck his head into a bowl of dirt and tumbling rocks once it was out the window. Even though the city looked quite clean compared to the Tavern... another weird thing. It also seemed a lot brighter outside when inside, but when actually outside Rimau noticed it was overcast for the first time. "Well, I'm guessin' that's the mountain range..." He said, pointing at said mountains visible to east, just over the town walls, and waving for Mysaren to observe with his other hand. "...Considerin' it's the only damn mountain range in sight an' all. Whad'you think?"</s>
<\|description\|>Saha Thulaja Era Race: Naga Gender: Female Age: 28 Occupation: Wanderer/Mercenary Personality/Interests Does whatever it takes to accomplish the goal. Conquering. Still calibrating her moral compass. Is protective of herself and puts herself first as her species is wont to do when they're single. Solemn, wary of strangers. Jovial among friends. Nagas are immune to alcohol, so Saha has never been drunk, but she does drink a large amount and pretend like she is. Lust rather than love at her young age, swings both ways. Loves music, a good dancer. Not a fan of vegetables. Animals, esp prey types, don't warm up to her easily. Appearance Details Body build: Fit, very toned Hair: Long, to chest; tied up Hair color: Black Skin color: Tan Eye/Iris color: Yellow eyes with round black pupils Height/Weight: 5'10" i.e 178cm, 154lbs i.e 70kg Notable Features: Her skin is lightly scaled and feels a little cold and snake-y to the touch. It is shed twice a year in seclusion. She has small sharp teeth and two dangerous fangs that eject venom, although her tongue and jaws are like a regular human's and she speaks without sibilant. Wears a cloak and hood generally for many species don't seem welcoming of her kind. Eats a large amount when she can and can go on without food or water for a longer period of time than humans. Clothing Description Light armor. Equipment (More) healing and (less) mana potions. Astika's Bracelet: charmed and bound to her arm for a one-time use to heal a deathly injury. Weapon(s) A well-made steel blade and a dagger. Powers (Innate talents that are "abnormal" and not considered to be "magical") Venomous fangs that inject neurotoxins and cause severe pain, blurred vision, vertigo, drowsiness, paralysis and coma; can spit the venom too for lesser effects; using their fangs in a fight is considered undignified and shameful for a Naga warrior but it's fine to coat their swords in their own venom. Abilities (Traits commonly found in only your race) High dexterity and reflexive speed. Nagas have normal eyesight like a human but are better at sensing movements near or far. In battle, in addition to their vision, they breathe through their mouths to rely on their Jacobson's organ that gives them a sharper and more instantaneous idea of the situation. Longevity: 200-300 years of living, and so age slower and heal faster than a human. They tend to begin settling down in the later half of their first century. Talents (Natural strengths developed by years of training) Close combat. Stealth. Saha is more patient with and approachable to animals than most other Nagas. She spent a lot of time in the forests learning how to make herself likeable to them when she lived with her parents. Magic (What school(s) of magic are you trained in?; if applicable) Nature magic: starting a fire, etc for basic survivalism; moving the earth, grass, whipping up the wind etc, all to surprise, destabilise and give her an edge over the enemy in battle. Impressions Sess - "A great warrior, but his strict altruism might be his downfall." Historia - "A small flying human with a pair of strange contraptions for her eyes." Katelia - "She must have incredible stories to tell, and I am curious about the pet, Hel." Julio - "I will need his healing skills later on. I must not insult his angelic heritage." Azzrix - "scoffs a rat." Margaret - "An interesting woman of the cold. Beware." Naida - "Attractive." Drubbins - "Amusing. Perhaps I can become his new Da Boss." Mysaren - "Approach cautiously, pry open with beer." Tahira - "I can learn about the world from her." Rimau - "with distaste a lizard. I might have to swallow my pride when I need something from him." Claire - "A fellow warrior." Viggo - "A musician! with a strangely attractive scent about him." Rouen - "A fanatic human warrior. Guard up." Felan - "A Nature man. We might get along."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nearly dropped her fork when the music she had mostly ignored took a new turn. She felt a little...different. Restless? Not possible...she just spend a night in an alley, sleep hadn't been good. The same clenching feeling was clasping her chest. Magic? Was it the musician? She gave a searching look for the sound. Through the smoke, the many moving bodies and other obstructions, they barely caught the man thrashing about. Interesting, annoying, angering. A shaky sigh left the small woman. As if to calm her, her winged partner began to speak once more. Sharing pieces of her past and who she was. In turn, the third party of the trio gave her piece. A bit more to the point, a bit less informative. Not so jumpy anymore apparently? "...I'm afraid I have to agree with her Historia dear...Sometimes your past is to be...retained." She thought for a moment. "Though It doesn't seem you have anything to hide, which is quite..." She searched for a word. "Magical..." she decided. Her voice trailed off at that last word. Her tone was, sad, almost, but perhaps more so it seemed to be...longing. Perhaps envious. She tried to give a smile to accompany the word, but it didn't really find it's way out. "Thank you for sharing." She added softly. "Both of you..." She realized she had hardly addressed the other girl. Perhaps she should be making some effort to do so...</s> <\|message\|>Felan the Wolf Felan sat quietly at his table as he waited, looking around at the patrons inside the tavern. There were a few new faces, but most he'd seen before. The girl that stayed here often, her name escaped him, was roaming about with her leopard. Felan was impressed by the creature. He had slightly embarrassed himself upon seeing it for the first time, having assumed it was a fellow skin changer. Obviously, that was not the case. He noticed an ogre was among the people bustling around, and Felan's lip curled slightly. He didn't care much for their kind, having had not-so-good experiences with them in the past. Of course, as long as the creature didn't act up, he wouldn't purposely cross paths with him. Another patron caught his eyes: a younger man casting magic on another customer. Felan watched, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Magic was not his forte. He didn't do it, didn't like it, and typically tried to avoid it. Before long, Naida swung by to take his order. Of course he just wanted his regular; Felan was a man of habit. Soon, it was on a plate in front of him: a juicy cut of meat, cooked very rare, and a glass of ale. His large hands fumbled with the eating utensils as he attempted to cut his food up. When at home, he wouldn't even bother. But in public, Felan made an attempt to appear remotely civilized.</s> <\|message\|>Historia Saurvale Historia quietly listened to the advice Miss Mysaren shared with her, noticing that Miss Claire was also in agreement. Historia smiled at the both of them cheerfully. "I don't quite believe I gave that much away." She told them. "Anybody with any knowledge of the Anemoi islands would know that's where I hail from. It's the only place that I know of where you can find my race. My name is my name, I would have to be really in trouble if I was trying to hide it. And for what else I told you, it's what happened a week ago in this very Tavern, and there's not much there to use against me, but I do appreciate the advice. There's not a lot of people here that be so kind to do that." Plus...if they really wanted dirt on Historia...well, her wings were more than enough really to a specific few. She paused a moment, wondering if perhaps anyone was looking for her. She really hadn't thought of it till now... Historia was pulled from her thoughts when Miss Claire said that it didn't seem like Historia had anything to hide and that was magical. "Ah, thank you Miss Claire." Historia told her, smiling even brighter. "But if I'm to refrain from speaking of my past, we should perhaps find something else to talk about...it'll hopefully take my mind off the music that currently playing." She told them with a hint of annoyance. Historia had no problem with the music itself. It was the spell that went with it. Not that Historia had any problems with magic either (though it wasn't till recently that she had even first got exposed to magic in general), but she didn't like for spells to be casted on her without her permission. This spell in particular made her wings twitch, like she should just get up and fly right out of the Tavern and into the wild blue yonder. Which would not have been a good plan as she did not have the funds to leave yet. "So," Historia said, pulling up her googles to rub her eyes, trying to be less annoyed as annoyance could lead to poor judgement. "Is there anything you two would like to discuss?"</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren The music playing was magic, Mysaren could tell that much. At least, it made her feel irrationally... angry. Courageous. She wanted to fight and argue against almost everyone near her. She swallowed her anger and clenched her fists, gritting her teeth impatiently. She wanted to bash in the head of that idiot that was playing the music that made her feel weird, she wanted to fight the orc that was standing across the room, she wanted to use her sword on the useless rat beside her that was blowing smoke all over the place. She had the courage to do it now, but didn't, she resisted her urges. Who let this moron play music like this in a tavern? Mysaren let a grin tug at the side of her mouth as she listened to Historia, shaking her head slightly. "Sorry for uhm, the advice, Historia," She said, letting her dark blue eyes scan over Historia again. She wished she could be like that, naive and carefree. "It's just that, well, where I come from, telling people hopes and dreams is kinda a death wish. I didn't mean to offend you, of course." She still didn't feel comfortable telling anyone where she was from, but her accent probably clued them in that she wasn't from around these parts. "Not much. I would like to know where maybe I could sell a few family heirlooms. " She said. Mysaren was also well aware of how a good lie worked. One, you never added too much detail unless questioned. Too many details, and you look suspicious, it seems to well thought out. Two, you practice, like Mysaren had been for most of her life. She had been to too many cities, met too many people in skeevy taverns and bars to not know how to lie. She didn't like lying anymore, though, but this was a necessary evil, at least to her. She needed money, and no one would want some piss poor necromancer freak to work for them.</s>	<\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era Saha had finished shedding her skin. Dry, delicate, paper-thin pieces of what used to be parts of her lay in a neat pile on the floor: a whole translucent mould of an arm, or an ear, or a toe, was stacked with short and long strips that had fallen off on their own or had been scrapped off with the help of a smooth pebble. She had been cooped up in the small room, cheaply that the wanderer could afford in Blue Tavern, for almost a week. Her body had conserved its energy by lulling her to sleep for days and nights, only to wake when her skin itched, without food or drink; now, recuperated and with vision restored, Saha could feel her mouth parched and cracked lips, her stomach grumbled, although, with a look down and feel of her body, she had hardly lost weight. She folded up the pile in a piece of cloth to be burned in the forest and put on her light armour. The leather felt a little tight and uncomfortable on her soft skin and etched in more when she moved, but she ignored it knowing her body would toughen up in a few days to its usual self. The bedroom tidied, Saha opened the door and stepped out of its enchantment that had been affording her peace and silence and, being sensitive, was struck by the overwhelming odours and aggressive music that had stalked upstairs. Her breathing quickened. There was pipe smoke, rare meat that excited her, strong magic, a multitude of folks from different places, animals, blood and ale - worst of all, she felt stirred to whip out her sword and dance as if she was in a fierce fight. Saha relaxed her grip on the hilt and muttered a spell. A breeze cleared the way and her head. She hurried downstairs, she could feel the bardic influence returning. "Bernard!" she called out with nary a glance at the numerous patrons on her way to the front door. "Six for me please! Rare! Put it on my tab, I'll be back in a bit." The door shut behind her; the guitar was muffled to a quieter sound that let her fully regain control of her senses and Saha found herself interjected into company. "Good morning, Kat and Hel," she greeted, and to the stranger, held her left palm to her chest in accordance to polite Naga custom. "Sorry I had to stay away for a while, I had a private matter that needed my attention." Saha looked at Hel in the eye, as if addressing him, too, as an equal, and continued saying to them both, "I'll be having breakfast soon, with enough to share, perhaps you'd like to join me." Saha excused herself from the trio and walked down the beaten path. The sunlight warmed her skin, a delicious sensation she had missed, and she focused on the fresh air that brought scents of morning dew, grass and dirt from the surrounding forest. It was a short stroll into the woods, the damp ground, brown and green with leaves, under the protection of the tall trees, held an intimacy that felt like home. She found a good spot by a fallen log and stilled with her mouth open to breathe in and sense if there was anyone nearby; then she gathered some twigs and cast a spell to start a fire. The Naga untied the pouch she had been carrying in one hand and carefully laid it on top of the flames. It consumed the gift in whole. "Saha'le arimay aksatelaikum," she gave thanks in her native tongue, for the experiences life had bestowed upon her, for the joys, pains and regrets, for another beginning now was she wiser; then Saha covered the fire with dirt to complete the ritual.</s>
<\|description\|>Saha Thulaja Era Race: Naga Gender: Female Age: 28 Occupation: Wanderer/Mercenary Personality/Interests Does whatever it takes to accomplish the goal. Conquering. Still calibrating her moral compass. Is protective of herself and puts herself first as her species is wont to do when they're single. Solemn, wary of strangers. Jovial among friends. Nagas are immune to alcohol, so Saha has never been drunk, but she does drink a large amount and pretend like she is. Lust rather than love at her young age, swings both ways. Loves music, a good dancer. Not a fan of vegetables. Animals, esp prey types, don't warm up to her easily. Appearance Details Body build: Fit, very toned Hair: Long, to chest; tied up Hair color: Black Skin color: Tan Eye/Iris color: Yellow eyes with round black pupils Height/Weight: 5'10" i.e 178cm, 154lbs i.e 70kg Notable Features: Her skin is lightly scaled and feels a little cold and snake-y to the touch. It is shed twice a year in seclusion. She has small sharp teeth and two dangerous fangs that eject venom, although her tongue and jaws are like a regular human's and she speaks without sibilant. Wears a cloak and hood generally for many species don't seem welcoming of her kind. Eats a large amount when she can and can go on without food or water for a longer period of time than humans. Clothing Description Light armor. Equipment (More) healing and (less) mana potions. Astika's Bracelet: charmed and bound to her arm for a one-time use to heal a deathly injury. Weapon(s) A well-made steel blade and a dagger. Powers (Innate talents that are "abnormal" and not considered to be "magical") Venomous fangs that inject neurotoxins and cause severe pain, blurred vision, vertigo, drowsiness, paralysis and coma; can spit the venom too for lesser effects; using their fangs in a fight is considered undignified and shameful for a Naga warrior but it's fine to coat their swords in their own venom. Abilities (Traits commonly found in only your race) High dexterity and reflexive speed. Nagas have normal eyesight like a human but are better at sensing movements near or far. In battle, in addition to their vision, they breathe through their mouths to rely on their Jacobson's organ that gives them a sharper and more instantaneous idea of the situation. Longevity: 200-300 years of living, and so age slower and heal faster than a human. They tend to begin settling down in the later half of their first century. Talents (Natural strengths developed by years of training) Close combat. Stealth. Saha is more patient with and approachable to animals than most other Nagas. She spent a lot of time in the forests learning how to make herself likeable to them when she lived with her parents. Magic (What school(s) of magic are you trained in?; if applicable) Nature magic: starting a fire, etc for basic survivalism; moving the earth, grass, whipping up the wind etc, all to surprise, destabilise and give her an edge over the enemy in battle. Impressions Sess - "A great warrior, but his strict altruism might be his downfall." Historia - "A small flying human with a pair of strange contraptions for her eyes." Katelia - "She must have incredible stories to tell, and I am curious about the pet, Hel." Julio - "I will need his healing skills later on. I must not insult his angelic heritage." Azzrix - "scoffs a rat." Margaret - "An interesting woman of the cold. Beware." Naida - "Attractive." Drubbins - "Amusing. Perhaps I can become his new Da Boss." Mysaren - "Approach cautiously, pry open with beer." Tahira - "I can learn about the world from her." Rimau - "with distaste a lizard. I might have to swallow my pride when I need something from him." Claire - "A fellow warrior." Viggo - "A musician! with a strangely attractive scent about him." Rouen - "A fanatic human warrior. Guard up." Felan - "A Nature man. We might get along."</s> <\|message\|>Claire Alexandria Claire nodded along slightly as Historia explained for her. She looked at the page, as if she was gaining the information from there, but she was only listening inventively. After Historia was finished explaining, Claire was about to agree to the mission, but Historia added another comment on the end. Claire's eye twitched when she registered the offer. "I..." She let her mouth hanging open a tiny bit. Searching for a word yet again. "I would like that..." She concluded, replying to both the job offer, and the future assistance. "And...thank you." She added softly. She tried again to give a smile. It was there, though quite faint. "Shall we...leave soon?" She gestured towards the door. She didn't have anything else to do, other than pick up her bag. If she was working alone she would have been on the road already, though she did tend to jump ahead when it came to acting and not thinking.</s> <\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era [timeskip; after breakfast] Several of the patrons left the Tavern in pursuit of missions the Priest had put up. Saha left her seat at the table to read the list of jobs available, at a short distance away from the gathered crowd. None interested her, and more importantly, they sounded too dangerous for her current state before she had regained full strength. The Big Guy hollered with a piece of notice that he held in a giant hand. "It said a couple lost their pet dog - a yellow mutt, goes by "Peanut", that's all - to be returned to 8 Bright Avenue, a red house in town. There's a reward, doesn't say how much or what it is." Saha appraised the Big Guy: he looked strong and intimidating, stupid as ogres were, but he seemed nice-natured enough that she could use his strength to serve as protection as well as to get the simple job done. "Do you want to do this mission with me? I think you're just the right bloke for the job," she complimented. "We better bring some food to bait the mutt," she said, from years of experience in trying to get close to animals as a Naga, and ordered a piece of steak to go from Bernard.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Dogs like me." Said Drubbins happily at the snake bloke. He had no idea what Da Boss would want a dog returned to someone, but that was normal. Da Boss asks you to punch down a building you don't ask what's inside. Da Boss wants every slime in the area gathered up and shoved behind the same door, you don't ask why. Da Boss asks you to chop off your hand and let your blood spill into the stone circle, you ask "how much blood would ya like, Boss?" He was also happy to have someone to come with him. Most Bosses didn't trust Drubbins to handle anything more complex than krumping a bloke on his own, and most of them at least sent someone to make sure he'd Krumped the right bloke. He thumped his chest, threw the rest of the pancakes directly into his mouth, and garbled "You point me at dat Peanut and dat 'ouse and I'll do da rest."</s> <\|message\|>Mysaren "Oh, I understand. Uhm, you can borrow my cloak if you want, you know. I don't mind." Even if Rimau was tough, Mysaren didn't want to have to deal with a pissy Zizz all the way up some mountains. She could live without the cloak, being pretty used to the cold. Her cloak was mostly just to disguise herself, make her blend in a bit, but it also helped with self esteem issues. She scratched her arm idly. "I'm not a huge fan of mountains either, of course, but, well, hopefully the reward makes up for it," Maybe she could actually buy some form of transportation, a horse or a cart or something with the prize money. "Besides, a bunch of idiots who decided to hide up in the mountains shouldn't take us that long to dispatch, of course. We'll be out of there in no time." She didn't exactly know that, of course, but bandits and robbers weren't generally the smartest of people, especially if they left enough evidence for them to know where they were hiding, even if it was just a vague area. Mysaren followed Rimau to the door, and frowned when she poked her head out, and turned back in. Inside the tavern looked bright and well lit, sun streaming through the windows, but outside was overcast and dreary. She coughed as she poked her head out, and looked at the mountains Rimau was pointing at. "Yes, that should be it. Hm, doesn't seem too too far away. Even then, there has to be some form of trail up there if the robbers were able to get up there so fast. Hopefully it won't be that hard to find where they're hiding."</s> <\|message\|>Naida Marcoon Naida Outside the Blue Moon Naida does not care of Azzrix comes along, but she does care about her share of the reward. Consider that he is a thief, he might wind up cheating them out of their share. But as Sessamaru says that he can come along, she has no argument against it. She begins walking again, looking down at the job. "So it says that the daughter is being held on the island out in the river by the Blue Moon. I know what river they speak of in this job, but I do not know which island. There are three islands on the river." She furrows her brown and looks at Sessamaru. "It doesn't matter anyways if neither of you can swim fast enough to keep up with me. Would either of you like for me to scout ahead see if I can find out which of the islands this poor girl is on?" As she is speaking, she hears the rush of the river and she can't help herself. She rushes toward the sound and stands at the very edge of a cliff that overhangs the water. She stares down at the water, a little bit of fear crossing over her mind. The last time that she had set foot in the water was three years ago, which was the last time that she had seen her father. As soon as she would set foot in the water, he would know that she had come back. But when she doesn't know is if he will come searching for her. She takes a deep breath and smiles back at Sess and the new fellow. That is a risk that she will have to take. She sucks in a little more air and steps off the cliff. There is no point in flapping her wings; the best way to have fun at getting turned into her mermaid form is just to drop into it. The icy cold water splashes up around her and she shivers slightly, but the change is imminent. She feels her legs meld together into one form and her wings shoot down her spine to her legs, enveloping her legs in a bluish silvery glow. Before long, she has a long, bluish silver tail flipping around underneath her. She smiles, unable to contain her joy, and she swims as fast as she can toward the surface, which is well a top of her now. She leaps out of the water like a dolphin, giving an excited whoop as she does. She then lands back in the water and floats on top of the surface, smiling up at Sess and Azzrix. "Come on, you guys! The water is amazing!"</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku "Well, if we're goin' by the assumption that these dumbasses came from town..." Rimau said, choosing to politely ignore the topic of mountains any further before it became distracting. "...They prob'ly used this road right 'ere." Rimau stepped outside, into the purely natural, gritty air of the outdoors, and 'sweeped' his pointed hand along the road towards the mountains. "...I mean, sure, they mighta been the show-off type an' scaled some walls, but roads tend to be the only viable way up mountains. F'good reason." Rimau proceeded to take a few strides down the cobbled road, in the direction of the mountain gate, and turned back to Mysaren, who he assumed was still inside. "...Unless y'got any other plans, I suggest we get goin'. Uh, no pressure, though. Those dumbasses are prob'ly makin' a mess o' their britches just thinkin' about retribution right now, heheh." With that, Rimau grabbed the sides of his goggles and slid them over his eyes; the sign that he was now in 'work' mode. Which reminded him; 'must remember to take that medicine when we get there. Last thing I need is a repeat o' the last Plat'num troll hunt... geez, maybe I'm gettin' too old f'this. ...Naaaah.' He finalised that line of thought with another devilish grin.</s> <\|message\|>Azzrix Grimmor Azzrix was glad that the dog-like man was fine with him going with them on their mission and for once it seemed like he didn't have to use a lot of excellent persuasion skills to come along. He now thought of what was to come, if it was a kidnapping that they were dealing with then there was a good chance for combat, which made Azzrix smile a bit as he thought of getting a chance to show off his great swordsmanship. Azzrix listened to Naida explain the layout of the land and upon hearing that they would have to swim to the island he groaned. Azzrix knew how to swim, but he didn't like having to get his thief clothing wet and who knew how deep the river. He didn't voice any objection and after Naida asked she could scout ahead he watched her jump into the water and looked to be having the time of her life. Under different certumstances Azzrix would have laughed, but right now he was being very serious. "Is the water very deep and how far are the islands? I don't fancy drowning today" he replied to her, hesitant to jump into the water.</s>	<\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era "You're a good right bloke, aren't 'cha?" Saha said in a saccharine tone, like she had found small animals responded better to a higher pitched, pleasant sound. "You'll make the Boss very happy when you've completed the mission. You'll split the rewards with me, yes?" She had to make sure the ogre knew what the deal was, for Bernard, the Priest or the couple might not care who got the reward as long as it was given out. Saha was in no mood to fight with the dumb Big Guy over some monies. She took the wrapped up steak and headed out of the Tavern. The sky had darkened considerably. The town wasn't faraway, its rows of short buildings and chimney smoke could be seen from a distance, and without a need to hurry too much, Saha strolled down the path with an appreciation for the humidity. When her partner had caught up to her, she said, "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. I am Saha of the Era tribe. What's your story, Big Guy?"</s>
<\|description\|>Saha Thulaja Era Race: Naga Gender: Female Age: 28 Occupation: Wanderer/Mercenary Personality/Interests Does whatever it takes to accomplish the goal. Conquering. Still calibrating her moral compass. Is protective of herself and puts herself first as her species is wont to do when they're single. Solemn, wary of strangers. Jovial among friends. Nagas are immune to alcohol, so Saha has never been drunk, but she does drink a large amount and pretend like she is. Lust rather than love at her young age, swings both ways. Loves music, a good dancer. Not a fan of vegetables. Animals, esp prey types, don't warm up to her easily. Appearance Details Body build: Fit, very toned Hair: Long, to chest; tied up Hair color: Black Skin color: Tan Eye/Iris color: Yellow eyes with round black pupils Height/Weight: 5'10" i.e 178cm, 154lbs i.e 70kg Notable Features: Her skin is lightly scaled and feels a little cold and snake-y to the touch. It is shed twice a year in seclusion. She has small sharp teeth and two dangerous fangs that eject venom, although her tongue and jaws are like a regular human's and she speaks without sibilant. Wears a cloak and hood generally for many species don't seem welcoming of her kind. Eats a large amount when she can and can go on without food or water for a longer period of time than humans. Clothing Description Light armor. Equipment (More) healing and (less) mana potions. Astika's Bracelet: charmed and bound to her arm for a one-time use to heal a deathly injury. Weapon(s) A well-made steel blade and a dagger. Powers (Innate talents that are "abnormal" and not considered to be "magical") Venomous fangs that inject neurotoxins and cause severe pain, blurred vision, vertigo, drowsiness, paralysis and coma; can spit the venom too for lesser effects; using their fangs in a fight is considered undignified and shameful for a Naga warrior but it's fine to coat their swords in their own venom. Abilities (Traits commonly found in only your race) High dexterity and reflexive speed. Nagas have normal eyesight like a human but are better at sensing movements near or far. In battle, in addition to their vision, they breathe through their mouths to rely on their Jacobson's organ that gives them a sharper and more instantaneous idea of the situation. Longevity: 200-300 years of living, and so age slower and heal faster than a human. They tend to begin settling down in the later half of their first century. Talents (Natural strengths developed by years of training) Close combat. Stealth. Saha is more patient with and approachable to animals than most other Nagas. She spent a lot of time in the forests learning how to make herself likeable to them when she lived with her parents. Magic (What school(s) of magic are you trained in?; if applicable) Nature magic: starting a fire, etc for basic survivalism; moving the earth, grass, whipping up the wind etc, all to surprise, destabilise and give her an edge over the enemy in battle. Impressions Sess - "A great warrior, but his strict altruism might be his downfall." Historia - "A small flying human with a pair of strange contraptions for her eyes." Katelia - "She must have incredible stories to tell, and I am curious about the pet, Hel." Julio - "I will need his healing skills later on. I must not insult his angelic heritage." Azzrix - "scoffs a rat." Margaret - "An interesting woman of the cold. Beware." Naida - "Attractive." Drubbins - "Amusing. Perhaps I can become his new Da Boss." Mysaren - "Approach cautiously, pry open with beer." Tahira - "I can learn about the world from her." Rimau - "with distaste a lizard. I might have to swallow my pride when I need something from him." Claire - "A fellow warrior." Viggo - "A musician! with a strangely attractive scent about him." Rouen - "A fanatic human warrior. Guard up." Felan - "A Nature man. We might get along."</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Well..." Drubbins said shutting down everything else from the effort of remembering. "Don't kno' de island, but I was working fer dis pirate Boss, see, before we was attacked by snake blokes like you. So we get in dis huge scrap, yeah, with de snakes, and one of em puts a spear in Da Bosses head. Dat took da fight right outta us, so dey scooped us all up and took us ta meet da new Boss which was dis huge snake bloke wif, like, lotsa arms, an he tells us dat we gonna be diggin' up dese statues from dis old place. So we go dere and we dig fer a long time and we bring up all dese statues and I was real good at it 'cause they was so big, so Da Boss let me put em up in this, like, big circle. And after dat Da Boss brought us all up and started krumpin' us in front of de statues, but I'm real tough so dey 'ad a hard time of it wit me. Got a thick neck, couldn't choke me like de other boys. So Da Boss comes down and decided to krump me personal like, but den someone screams 'Navy!" and everyfing just starts blowin' up and dese human blokes run up da hill and deres another huge scrap and fink I fell off a cliff." "Woke up on one a dem navy blokes boats, takin' me ta be hanged fer piratin' seeing as how I was now tech-nical-cally de captain." Drubbins finishes. "Never been a captain before. Felt nice." He adds wistfully.</s> <\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era "Are you sure your old boss had many arms?" Saha asked, reserving her instinctive distaste at the idea that the Gruen had harnessed such dark magic that they could physically deform themselves; or more likely than not the dumb ogre recollected wrongly and embellished details in the haziness of his memory. The Era tribe instilled a sense of reverence towards Nature, the basis of their magic, along with the philosophy that there was always a cost to an advantage, and for them, physical strength wasn't their strong suit. "Naga are as different to each other as the stones in the river," she continued. "No two tribes are the same in thinking. If what you say is true, I'm sorry you saw the worst of us." Thunder rumbled; a flash of white lightened the sky near the mountains at a distance. Moments later fat raindrops covered the terrain. Saha was no stranger to living in the wild and was as comfortable in the heat as in water, but she had the sense the rain and possible storm would have the dog scurry into hiding. "8 Bright Avenue should be down this way," she said, hurrying towards the peripheral, residential area of the town. "There's a tavern a few streets from here, maybe we can ask the locals and see if the mutt is scavenging around."</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins Drubbins thudded along behind as the raindrops plinked down on his head. He reached over and held one massive hand over his companions head, so as to shield him from the rain. Smart blokes doing smart thinking on his behalf deserved it. He'd have just started looking around for a dog. He didn't know where anyplace in the city was. This was the benefit of hanging around with someone who could think good, they were full of ideas. "Yeah. More den a bug, and dats more arms den anyfing needs. I get by wifout dat many." Then he started whistling. He wasn't very good at it on account of his large underbite, but the guy that taught him hadn't had any lips. He knew that dogs liked whistling.</s> <\|message\|>Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku Rimau looked back at the corpse again, with a look of danger on his face. He had to do something. Just to be on the safe side. Not that he couldn't handle a single zombie, but it'd be far more convenient to deal with it before it got to its feet. "...Better safe than sorry, y'know." Having verbally established that, he walked back over to the corpse, removed his machete from his belt and proceeded to stab the dead robber in the skull, destroying the brain inside. At the very least, he'd heard that a zombie with no brain was just a shuffling moron. "Sorry 'bout that..." He stated apologetically, as he strenuously withdrew the giant knife from the man's head, allowing out-of-date blood to spew out in places. "...'Bout those Pyramid rocks..." He paused once again to grunt as he finally removed the knife, having had to acquire support by placing one foot on the man's neck. He coughed, cleaning the blade on the man's clothes. He doubted that he'd take them with him to whatever afterlife he believed in. "...I kinda meant I heard o' Pyramid rocks before. One o' those ol' bits o' junk left lyin' around by ancient civilisations or somethin'. Eroded an' whatnot." The old lizard scratched the back of his neck before finally setting himself back on course in a very nonchalant fashion, acting as if he hadn't just stabbed a dead guy in the head. No vomit or nothing. "...S'pose I could jus' be imaginin' things, though. Anyways, I reckon we're gettin' close t'the base o' the mountains. Those dumbasses are probably in the valley. If they can't move a frickin' golden mask up walls, I doubt they're the outdoorsy kind."</s> <\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era His giant hand roofed her from the rain. It sheltered almost the width of her, so that only the sides of her arms and clothing were splattered by drops. Saha looked up at the ogre, whose long and thick limbs lumbered in small steps so as to match her pace. She was a little touched by his kind and strangely thoughtful gestures and realised that, like herself, neither his appearance nor race was a good summary of who he was. "Thank you for doing that," she said, pointing at his hand above her head in case he missed the message. They were close to the tavern when he whistled suddenly; she flinched and pressed her fingers to her ears. The sound was loud and piercing without any sense of a melody. It was a jargon of notes, discordant and uncomfortable. She was surprised to feel a bare trace of magic, from an ogre no less, that tried and failed to pull her into its ugly embrace. The noise travelled the distance; within moments, howls and barks chorused in reply. Villagers shouted at their dogs for silence. Doors and gates were clawed. Saha felt the air tremble: a horde of dogs from all directions rushed at them. They were surrounded by by dozens of excited yelps and whines and panting and wagging, although a few at the outer rim of the group snarled at Saha. The closest sniffed at her waist, nudged their noses into her sides - she tried to push them away - and took off with the packet of meat that was quickly devoured. She stood hemmed in by warm furry eager dogs: seven or eight of them were in varying shades of yellow. "Peanut?" she asked. "PEANUT!" They milled jovially.</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "'Ello boys!" He said excitedly, looking around at the thronging mass of dog that now surrounded them. He tried not to step on one as they we've in and out around his legs. "Dat's never 'appened befor." While Saha tried calling out for Peanut Drubbins cut out the middle man and just started picking up yellow dogs, which he laid across his shoulders like furs. For the most part they'd just sit there panting a bit before getting up and jumping back down, but a few seemed content to just hang out up there.</s> <\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era "My mentor always said that magic began at the point of intent and purpose, the wielder conducted the flow of power," Saha replied. "You're smarter than you look, Big Guy." Drubbins could carry the dogs on his shoulders but several suspects were still on the loose. The crowd was dispersing, the dogs ambled away now that he had stopped whistling. She thought to grab two herself but animals could be unpredictably aggressive at her, so she asked Drubbins, "The house is in these couple of streets. Do you think you can keep whistling - quieter - so that the mutts will follow us?"</s> <\|message\|>Drubbins "Sure fing boss." Drubbins replied, taking up his tuneless whistling again. It was slow going. He had to shuffle to avoid stepping on any of them, barely picking up his feet as he moved, but they eventually reached the house that Saha pointed out to him. Stopping his whistling, he sucked in his breath and yelled out at the house, "Oi! You was the ones what wanted dogs?"</s>	<\|message\|>Saha Thulaja Era The red door cracked open emitting dim candlelight behind a young man. His thin pale face peered out and he glanced down at a dog sniffing at the threshold hungrily. It scratched at the door but the man was steadfast in keeping it out. "H-h-hello," he stammered at Drubbins. His eyes widened at the group of mutts gathered around the ogre. "I-I don't want no trouble, mister." "We've got your dog," Saha said. "Which one of these is yours?" "Peanut? You've got Peanut?" He opened the door wider to take a better look but didn't step outside. "That one!" He stretched out a lanky arm and pointed at one of them that resembled the others. "That's him! Peanut! Come here, boy!" When neither the man nor the dog made any move towards each other, Saha took the yellow mutt by its scruff and walked it to its owner. He was grinning and quickly let Peanut inside then shut the door. "Please wait!" came the muffled words. The timid man reopened it just long enough to pass Saha a small pouch. "T-Thank you! This means a lot to me and my wife!"</s>
<\|description\|>Liang Xian Age: 28 Sex: female Team: Legendary Lion-Turtles Role: Firebender Appearance: Liang stands just barely over 5 feet. Her face is quite pretty - though little scar runs from the left tip of her mouth to her chin. Her eyes are golden in color. Liang keeps her black hair cut very short from the front and the longer back part is held on a bun most of the time. Her left arm is missing - having been cut off just above the elbow in a horrible freak accident caused by an opposing team's blatant cheating. Liang wears a sort of prosthetic arm which is fixed behind her back as a part of her pro-bending uniform, mostly for helping her keep her balance. When not pro-bending she either wears a blue jacket with it's left sleeve tucked in a manner which hides the stump of her arm, or a bit longer red coat with the sleeve fixed in a similar manner. If she's making some kind of a public appearance she wears a slightly different prosthetic which she either tucks in one of her coat pockets or fixes behind her back. In addition to the coat or jacket Liang usually wears either gray or black pants with knee high boots that have a large buckle at the front and a red sleeveless shirt. Personality: Liang is a very quick thinker, she's able to come up with a strategy at a moment's notice. She trusts her friends more than anyone and does her best to never let their hopes down. Liang loathes cheaters to such a degree that if her team members do not step in she might actually cause some serious injury to the cheating party - be it in or outside the ring, even if it would cost them the whole tournament. Luckily she's easily calmed down by both Shin and Gen. Due to her rather volatile temperament Liang has a hard time controlling the intensity of her firebending - especially if she's frustrated - which can, and most likely will earn their team a penalty. Background: Liang Xian was born and raised in the Republic city to a relatively wealthy - if not overtly so - family of mixed heritage. Her father had been an above average pro-bender - he actually was the original captain of the Leaping Lion-Turtles well to his 50's until his back simply couldn't manage the work as a member of the Metalbending Police Force and his hobby of pro-bending. Her mother had tried her best not to encourage Liang in to following at her father's footsteps and instead work with the electric company she was working in. Their daughter however was enamored with the sport the moment she saw her first mach and after some arguing, a few tantrums and other such happenings Liang took over the captaincy and the legacy of the Leaping Lion-Turtles at the young age of 16. The new generation of the Lion-Turtles was a true force to be reckoned with - even though they were relatively young and at first quite untalented the group won their first championship during their first year and went on to dominate the Pro-Bending scene for the next 3 years. Their magnificent streak of victories and domination - which came at first from a combination of their opponents underestimating them and their skill and Liang's tactical thinking and later their near unrivaled teamwork and downright amazing stunts and sheer strength - came to a rather gruesome end. The opposing team cheated their way to a tiebreaker round where Liang faced the opposing team's firebender. Their match was very even until the opposing team's earthbender used a sharpened stone disc to brutally maim her arm. The opposing team was immediately disqualified and the Metalbending Police Force quickly took them in to custody. The Leaping Lion-Turtles won the championship at the cost of Liang's dominant arm and left the sport altogether for nearly 8 years. Sadly Liang's arm was so badly damaged that it had to be amputated. This however didn't stop her from bending. On the contrary she's spent a good portion of her free time to teach herself a new firebending style that only uses one arm. Just before the beginning of the tournament Liang gathered the old team together again and signed up as the Legendary Lion-Turtles. Though she knows they are all a bit out of practice they have not been forgotten. With luck their former success and fame gives them an edge over the competition - though no-one's going to underestimate them this time. Name: Shin Yu Age: 29 Sex: male Team: Legendary Lion-Turtles Role: Waterbender Appearance: Shin stands at just under 6 feet tall, he's quite broad shouldered - which makes him seem rather top heavy due to his thin arms and legs. His eyes have a warm brown color. His shoulder length hair is kept on a very simple topknot held in place by a thin strap of blue cloth. Shin has a bit effeminate facial features and a very kind and charming smile. Outside the ring Shin more often than not lends his blue jacket to Liang and just wears a white long sleeved collared shirt and blueish-gray pants with soft leather boots. Personality: If Liang is the hotblooded tactician of the team and Gen is the strength Shin is the mediator and diplomat. He seems to have a knack of talking the group out of any situation that Liang's temper or Gen's furious stubbornness have gotten them in to that time. He is quite overprotective of the rest of the team - especially after what happened to Liang - which oftentimes makes it seem like he has no sense of self preservation during matches. He often makes downright stupid stunts to keep his teammates out of harms way - usually it costs him either a knock back a zone or some minor injury. Background: Shin's family had been on the move ever since he could remember. Both is father and mother were skilled healers who seemingly had a need to help anyone in need of healing. The good part was that this actually kept the family well fed, but the bad part was that Shin really didn't have that many friends while growing up. When Shin was 17 - his family had settled down in Republic City for the time being - he made his first real longtime friends mostly by accident by intervening in a fight a really hotheaded girl had gotten into. It wasn't long until the girl - Liang - managed to convince him to join her Pro-Bending team which soon gained a third member in the form of a perhaps the most hardheaded earthbender Shin had ever met. The Leaping Lion-Turtles had their time in the spotlight and after the horrible accident that crippled Liang the team was disbanded. Shin has spent the last 8 years healing people in his small clinic near the Pro-Bending arena and though he has kept out of the ring himself he's still an avid fan - occasionally people recognize him which gives him a chance to for at least a while go back to the glory days of the team. When Liang suggested that the team should reform Shin was at first a bit skeptical, but eventually Gen's stubbornness and Liang's excitement won him over. Name: Gen Gan-Jin Age: 31 Sex: Male Team: Legendary Lion-Turtles Role: Earthbender Appearance: Gen stands at an amazing 7'2 feet, he's noticeably more muscular and larger than the rest of the team to the point that if the group has to be found in a crowd spotting him is the easiest way. His black hair has a thick reddish-brown lock on the left temple which he keeps away from his eye with a silver hairpin. Gen has a very strong jaw and his nose has been broken a few times judging by the angle it has twisted to. Despite that he's quite handsome and used to be the face of the team - though Shin did most of the talking especially when Liang was frustrated over something. Outside the ring Gen wears a wide sleeved black shirt with way too many buttons on it and over it he drapes a gray overcoat that extends just below his knees. Despite wearing a very stylish pair of pants - that have way too many pockets - Gen doesn't wear any shoes if it's not cold outside - in his own words it 'cramps his style'. Personality: Gen is a very stubborn individual - though quite nice to chat with and most of the times polite - he just has a very bad habit of not agreeing with people even when he's wrong, though eventually he might cave in and admit that he was wrong. His sheer size has made him slightly overconfident in his strength and he's usually the first target the opposing team goes for - not that it bothers him to the slightest since he's very good at taking and causing damage. Gen still tries to act like the young, handsome and lady wooing fellow he was 10 years ago, but nowadays he does it mostly to annoy his teammates. Background: Gen had never been much of a fan of Pro-Bending even though his father had taken him to watch the matches since he was 4 years old. There had just been something about the sport that kinda went over his head. He was in his early 20's - well 19 to be exact - when he was coerced in to trying the sport by a friend of his father. His father's friend had been a captain of a pro-bending team for nearly 30 years as a side hobby and the team had managed to get a few wins under their belt. He joined the team quite reluctantly - after all the captain of the team was just an annoyingly hotheaded girl and the waterbender was an annoyingly pretty boy with an annoyingly nice smile. The team however worked surprisingly well and Gen had to admit that the attention they were getting from fans was something he really liked. The team's heyday came and went, the team was eventually disbanded due to Liang's injury and Gen ended up joining the Metalbending Police for a brief while before working on different odd jobs. Nearly 8 years passed and while Gen kept close contact to his former team members and stayed in touch with the sport - even stepping back to the ring for a brief while - he really didn't feel at home without his friends. When Liang suggested that the old band was to be put together Gen was more than delighted to join and eventually he and Liang managed to convince Shin back to the team as well.</s> <\|message\|>Bon Xiu Kimiko shrugged before whistling loudly, enough to get the attention of everyone in the gym. "Fellas," she called out towards the Elephant Kois, "Want to lend one of your teammates to aid Mr. Earthbender over there in a sparring match?" "For a pretty girl like you, I'll spar anyone." said Bon. "Who wants to spar?" He looked around to see if anyone responded. Wes sighed, then introduced the team to the others that were there. "I'm Wes Xiu, Earthbender, that bone-head over there is Bon, my brother, and Waterbender, and this is Min Sun, our little sis, and a Firebender. Our Firebender quit on us the same night we won a spot in the championship, so we had to get Min to fill in. We came to get her some practice before the tournament, so if anyone should spar with one of you, it's her. In fact, if two of you want to take us on, I'll take you on with her on my side."</s> <\|message\|>Xeno Kimiko watched as people after people came in the gym and a grin took over her face. She could feel herself getting fired up just by seeing all her opponents. Even the cockiness of some only proved to ignite the flame inside her further. Xeno, seeing this, sighed. "So, I guess this is happening, huh?" After seeing an enthusiastic nod from Kimiko, Xeno craned her neck to look over the opponents. Team Elephant Kois was in complete attendance, as was the Viper Bats. And there was one member of the Legendary Lion-Turtles that popped in. They were definitely contenders, teams they knew would prove to be strong opponents in the field, and Xeno felt just how pumped up their team leader was. "How about we do it this way," they began, bending and bringing up four earth slabs, "Two teams of two, with one person from each team as a representative for this sparring match." Kimiko stepped up next to her teammate and lowered her goggles to her eyes. "I'll be representing the Raven Eagles. Which one of you is going to be my partner?" Xeno grinned and bended the slab towards Kimiko, carving the number one on it. They bended the same number on one of the remaining slabs and the number two on the rest. "Oh, and Xeno, we're gonna need a referee," Kimiko added as an afterthought. She turned towards the other teams while pointing with her thumb towards her teammate. "You guys okay if Xeno over there took up that role? If they try to cheat, you have my permission to beat them up." Xeno's only response was a small smirk towards Kimiko, as though saying they'd like to see them try, but said nothing as she waited for the rest of the teams to offer up someone. Kimiko pumped her fist in the air. "Come on, people. This is a learning experience!"</s>	<\|message\|>Liang Xian Liang managed to pump herself up a bit at the prospect of having a little sparring match. She smiled quite excitedly and shrugged her shoulders "Heck, why not. I'm in." The firebender began tucking her jacket sleeve in to a better position and mumbled something about forgetting things, then she just opened her jacket and tossed it aside. Under the jacket she wore a simple white shirt that had only one sleeve to cover the stump of her arm. "So, who wants a handicap for their team?" Though Liang was quite self-conscious about her handicap she wasn't above jesting about it at this point. When someone mentioned cheating the firebender tensed up a bit - quite noticeably actually, but atleast she managed to keep her cool - though her voice was ever so slightly strained. "No need to worry about cheating on my part, just warning you. If anyone tries something fishy they got me to contend with." Liang pointed herself with her thumb and tried to look intimidating. Then she smirked excitedly and coughed "Oh, where are my manners!" Liang shook her head a bit before taking a goofy little pose. "I'm Liang Xian! The captain of the Legendary Lion-turtles!"</s>
<\|description\|>Siku Juntenka Age: Sixteen Sex: Female Team: Viper Bats Role: Water-Bender Appearance: She is very tall and lengthy. Her hair is also longer than that, but she normally keeps it up in a ponytail Personality: Siku tends to be quiet during a match. She never responds to taunts. Even though she does not respond to them doesn't mean that she doesn't hears them. Siku tends to keep her anger bottled up inside rather than letting it out. She is very fun loving thought when she is not in a match. She tends to be very carefree and excited all the time. She is never quiet outside of a match. She has a weakness, though, towards fire because of her family history (reason why below). She never purposely steps over a boundary though, unless she is forced over it. Her main weapon of choice is the water whip, which seems to the do the job in a match very well. Siku isn't a showoff, but she likes to add a little flare to whatever she is doing. She tends to be restless when she is not doing anything and likes to get into trouble at times. But she would never jeopardize her team. Whenever she is knocked into the water, she is always frustrated with herself and always tells herself that she needs to do better. If they lose a match, never talk to her. She gets furious and goes out to the ocean to train some more. Background: Siku grew up mostly in the northern water tribe. She was a very restless child, always getting into trouble whenever she could. She discovered that she was a water bender when she was seven years old. Her and one of her friends were running along the edge (like the very edge) of the outer wall when he suddenly slipped and fell off the side. There was nothing below but freezing water. She ran to the other side and screamed for help. He tumbled even further down and she mimicked something that she had seen some of the older water benders do. A small block of snow came out from within the wall and caught her friend just in time. After she discovered this new power, she began to train with the other water benders. When she was eight, only a year after beginning her training, her parents decided to move to Republic City for a better life. They packed up their things and left the tribe, heading for the emblem of freedom. They found a small apartment close to the pro bending arena and her and her father began to go to games frequently. This is how to she got into pro bending. She would watch the matches and then go out to the sea and try to copy the movements. One night, when she was thirteen, when she and her father were walking home from one of the matches, they were confronted by a tall, towering fire bender, who was obviously homeless or poor. He struck a very threatening pose and told them if they didn't give him their money, then he would cut them down like the water tribe scum they were. Her father, being a proud man, refused and the man kept his word. As he was fighting the man, her father screamed at her to run, which she did. She ran to go get help, but there were no policemen around at the time. By the time she found someone though, it was too late. Her father was dead. She threw herself headlong into practicing her water bending, mimicking and perfecting each move that she had seen at the pro bending tournaments. She eventually told her mother that she was joining and that they needed the money. Her mother didn't stop her and even promised to come to all of her matches. Now, she has joined a team with Ryko and Ryou. This is her first team and she hopes that they can do well, considering that they have been training together for two years. Name: Ryou and Ryko Kasaisekitan Age: Both 19 (Fraternal Twins, Ryou is older by a minute) Sex: Both Male Team: Viper Bats Role: Ryou is fire bender and Ryko is the earth bender Appearance: Personality: Ryou is more fun loving that his brother. He is fiery, like his fire bending powers, and he loves to pull pranks on his younger brother. He is fiercely loyal when it comes to his team and his family and he loves to argue with his brother. He likes to taunt during matches and tends to show off his powers like Siku does. Ryou is very accepting of Siku's fear of fear and tries not to fire bend to close to her. He has a very short fuse when it comes to anger and can switch quickly between happiness and anger. Ryko is a bit more stubborn than his brother is and a bit more hard headed, like his earth bending powers. He doesn't mind the pranks that his brother pulls, but he is always serious when it comes to matches. Like Siku, he is silent during the match and tries to stay focused rather than taunt the other team. He hates the taunting itself and if the other team begins to taunt him, he will knock the taunter off if he can. He has a short fuse, like his brother, and he hates it when his brother rubs it in his face that he's older. He is always the one who starts the fights with his brother, though. Background: Ryou and Ryko were both born in Republic City to a fire bending father and an earth bending mother. They grew up in the city where their father worked as an electrician and their mother worked with the police of Republic city. Their parents were rarely home, so the boys would always go exploring without their parents' knowledge. They would always come back before either of them came home at night. Ryou was very protective of Ryko. They found out that they had bending abilities when they were playing in the streets one day. They were play fighting and Ryou accidentally set off a fire blast in the direction of his younger brother. Ryko drew up his arms to defend himself, thus bringing up huge rocks directly in front of himself. After this discovery, they immediately ran home to tell their parents. Their parents, in turn, began to train them in the ways of each of their powers. They both grew closer with the parent that taught them how to train their powers. Their parents also began to take them to pro bending games. Ryou and Ryko got so excited by these that when their parents were at work, they would sneak into matches and watch. They began to copy the movements of the pro benders and replicate them in fights against each other, Ryou always winning of course. When they finally turned eighteen, they told their parents that they wanted to join the league. Their parents didn't care, and, being too busy, didn't seem to notice when their boys were gone. The boys and Siku have been training together for over two years now and have become very well trained. They plan to hopefully train some more and win.</s> <\|message\|>Xeno "Come one, come all, and witness the greatest display of bending talent! Benders from all corners of the world come together to duke it out with each other and prove once and for all who the greatest and strongest is! Republic City welcomes you, great heroes, to the... PRO-BENDING ANNUAL TOURNAMENT!" Kimiko's arms crossed over her shoulders as she listened to the announcer on the radio. "The greatest and strongest, huh?" she found herself murmuring. Last year's winners had been a group called Badgermoles, a team notorious for their arrogance and disregard for common courtesy. Apparently, they were the greatest and strongest. The thought made Kimiko want to vomit out the sweet bread she just ate. The Badgermoles wouldn't be competing this year. "Cowards." "What's gotten you all surly there?" Kai piped up from the kitchen area. He was the designated cook for the week, decided after a sparring match between the three of them. Kai always seemed to don the apron more often than the other two, but it didn't seem to bother him much. He liked cooking for the team, and it was obvious that the team loved his cooking - if Kimiko and Xeno's teaming up every sparring session was any indication. Xeno, who had been busy attempting to create a frozen sculpture in their part of the apartment, piped up, "Overachiever won't feel like she's the greatest and strongest unless she beats last year's champion." "Whatever." Kimiko jumped up and stretched her limbs. "I'm going to the gym. Just have Anana call me when lunch is ready." Xeno gave her a salute and returned to their sculpture as the door slammed shut behind Kimiko. "She's been getting antsy, hasn't she?" "She's just excited," Kai answered flippantly. "Anyway, I need your help. Taste this and tell me if it's too salty." Xeno's eyes rolled but they stood up and approached the boy nonetheless. Meanwhile, Kimiko had just changed into her training clothes and set up the gym. With a couple of test jabs, she was ready.</s> <\|message\|>Liang Xian "Why are we even here?" Gen mumbled with some mild annoyance in his voice. "We'll be facing just little kids." The tall earthbender shook his head as he paced back and forth around the room the Legendary Lion-turtles were occupying. He flicked the reddish lock of hair away from his eyes and fiddled around with the silver hairpin. Shin let out a little chuckle as he took a sip of tea and stared out from a window to the street below. His smile hadn't lost any of it's charm or warmth over the years. "Oh come on Gen, we were just kids when we started. You remember how we were underestimated at first, hmm?" He glanced towards Gen and gestured with his teacup "We can't go underestimating anyone - so..." "We'll just fight like every match is against the toughest enemy we have had thus far. Kiddie gloves are off from the get go." Liang cut in from the sofa she was reclining on. The sofa was situated on a corner and it was the largest piece of furniture in the room. "We have a week to get our act together again so we'd better start training first thing tomorrow." She rubbed her left shoulder and shook her head a bit. "My neck is killing me again..." Shin finished his tea calmly, placed the cup on a table and made his way to the sofa. He rather impolitely shoved Liang to the floor and sat behind her. Liang let out a surprised little squeak and was about to say something rather impolite when the waterbender began gently massaging her neck. "How have you survived without us looking after you?" He asked with that annoyingly polite voice of his. Liang closed her eyes and let out a sigh - with her best attempt at seeming like she was really annoyed. "I've survived just fine, thank you very much... Oh, just a bit to the right, please." Gen glanced at his teammates and didn't even try to hide his smile. Eight years had been such a long time and they hadn't seen each other enough to his liking. Something just reminded so much of the old times... He wiped the side of his eye and grinned. "Once you are done with the captain how about you fix my back while you are at it?" Shin shrugged his shoulders and smirked "We'll see about that, this'll take a while." Liang giggled and glanced at the ceiling - she got a little nudge to the back of her head from Shin "Oi, no moving when I'm working li'll miss." The firebender pouted and lowered her arm to her lap. "F-fine..."</s>	<\|message\|>Siku Juntenka Siku had been asleep when the radio announcement went off, but Ryou and Ryko sure as hell aren't. They listen intently to the radio as they talk about the tournament. Siku is asleep on Ryou's bed after a long day, so Ryko hits her awake. "Wait up sleepy moron!" he says loudly. "Listen to this." Siku jolts awake and listens sleepily to the rest of the announcement before yawning once it ends. "That sounds great," she says with a tired yawn. She falls back on the bed but Ryko catches her before she can fall back asleep. She rolls her eyes and stretches, trying to wake herself up more so she can actually talk to her team. "Fine, what do you want to do?" "Well, I don't care what you two do," Ryko says with a grin. "I'm head down to the gym to practice. You guys can either come with, or stay here and make out." He aims this remark directly at his brother, who flushes a dark red and rubs the back of his neck. He had had a crush on Siku ever since she joined their team. Ryko rolls his eyes and punches his brother's shoulder. "Later!" He hurries out the door in his training gear, which he had already had on before the announcement. He had been planning on going and training today anyways. Ryou, now fully red, looks over at Siku, who just laughs at him and stands up to stretch. She bends over, touches her toes before bouncing back up. She smiles at him and says, "Don't worry. I knew Ryko was joking." Ryou nods and stands up himself. He walks back into the kitchen and begins to make himself some lunch. "You slept in late," Ryou calls from the kitchen. "Any reason why you were out so late?" Siku is silent, but she unconsciously covers up some fire burns from the previous night. "No reason. Just walking around." Ryou snorts with disbelief, but he doesn't push her to answer anything. Instead, he flips the sandwich he is making. Her business is her own and he wasn't going to pry. Meanwhile, Ryko arrives at the gym in a flourish, expecting to see at least a few other people there, but there is no one else but a girl about his age practice. He sighs and tosses his coat to the side, heading toward the earth bender area. He begins to warm up and before long, he is shooting the discs with ease into the goals. He looks over at the girl and says, "I assume you're practicing for the tournament?"</s>
<\|description\|>Bon Xiu Age: 26 Sex: Any time you want, babe. Male Team: Elephant Kois Role: Water Appearance: Personality: Self absorbed, but fun loving. He may think everyone should like the same things he does, but that's just because he knows those things are the most fun and wants everyone to have fun. Some people wonder if he's capable of understanding that other people might have different interests. Background: Born on Kioshi Island, his father a simple Earth bender/fisherman and his mom a healer from the Swamp benders, he and his brother grew up on the beach. One day, however, a hurricane came to the island. Many people were killed, including his father. After that they moved to Republic city to get a fresh start and try and forget the tragedy. Their mom fell in love with a Fire bender working in the city power plant and got remarried, and a few years later, they had a sister. This didn't keep them at home, however, and they were always going to the beach just outside the city. When they grew up they decided to become pro benders, as it seemed like the most fun way of earning a living. Everything was going good until their fire bender decided to quit. They quickly replaced him with the only fire bender they knew that would join them on short notice, their sister. Unfortunately, she is pathetic at practice, so she doesn't get in much practice. Name: Wes Xiu Age: 24 Sex: Depends who's asking. Male Team: Elephant Kois Role: Earth Appearance: Personality: Partier. He's always looking for a way to have fun, and wants to have as much fun as he can. The closest he comes to having a job is selling the statues he makes out of beach sand. Background: Born on Kioshi Island, his father a simple Earth bender/fisherman and his mom a healer from the Swamp benders, he and his brother grew up on the beach. One day, however, a hurricane came to the island. Many people were killed, including his father. After that they moved to Republic city to get a fresh start and try and forget the tragedy. Their mom fell in love with a Fire bender working in the city power plant and got remarried, and a few years later, they had a sister. This didn't keep them at home, however, and they were always going to the beach just outside the city. When they grew up they decided to become pro benders, as it seemed like the most fun way of earning a living. Everything was going good until their fire bender decided to quit. They quickly replaced him with the only fire bender they knew that would join them on short notice, their sister. Unfortunately, she is pathetic at practice, so she doesn't get in much practice. Name: Min Sun Age: 18 Sex: Female Team: Elephant Kois Role: Fire Bender Appearance: Personality: Timid and subservient, she isn't seems to only want to make others happy and to be unable to stand up for herself. When she gets into the ring, however, she changes. Once she gets hit she kind of loses it and goes into all-out attack mode. Background: Her mom moved to Republic city from Kioshi island following some tragedy, and met her dad. They fell in love and got married, and eventually she was born. She didn't get along to well with her brothers. While they were out playing on the beach, she was at home studying like a good girl. She did well in school, graduating near the top of her class. She did her chores like she was told, and even did her brother's chores for them sometimes so they could go to the beach. When she got out of school, she planned on finding a nice job, a husband, buying a house in the city, and having kids. Her brothers, however, wanted her to join some sports team they started. She decided to help them, at least until they could find a replacement.</s> <\|message\|>Bon Xiu Min turned off the radio and walked out onto the beach. She had been staying with her brothers at their beach house for the last week, as it afforded them more time to train. Seeing them now, though, she wandered if they were really serious about training. Bon was out on his board, creating or enhancing the waves to make the surfing better. Wes was building statues, bending the sand on the beach into the proper state and then turning it to stone. "uh, guys, can we maybe practice now?" she said. "I need to get better before the match." Wes made the statue flip over and put a flat bottom on it. "Good idea. Maybe we can run into another team and have a sparing session." he said before calling out "Hey, Bon, come here. Min wants to hit the gym." Bon rode his board over to the shore then flipped it up with a bit of water so that he could grab it. "So you wanna build some muscles, little sis? Cool, I can help you train." "No, I mean, I think we need to practice our bending, at least together." "Right, Bon said. We have the final coming up and haven't every been in a real match together. Let me go get dressed and we'll go there. Who knows, maybe one of the other teams will be there." After everyone got ready they went to the gym. There the guys taught Min a training exercise. "Ok, so what you do is stand in a circle." Wes said, "then each person attacks the other two. We'll of course be trying to attack the other two people too, so you have to block and attack at the same time. There's also strategy, as you don't want one of us to be strong enough to still beat you when the other gets knocked down. You got that?" "Not really." "You'll catch on," said Bon, "Begin." He pulled some water from some jugs nearby and sent it at her, knocking her down. He walked over, helped his drenched sister stand up, then walked back to his position. "Don't worry," he said, pulling the water off of her, "you'll get the hang of it." This time, however, both brothers launched attacks at her. She had no choice but to dodge.</s> <\|message\|>Xeno Kimiko practiced a few jabs, sending fireballs towards a dummy a couple of feet away. Her chest heaved as she let her hands fall to her knees, taking a moment to catch her breath, and watch the sweat roll off her forehead and drop onto the floor. It was then that the door slammed open, revealing a dark haired boy that Kimiko has seen around before. Kimiko watched as the boy warmed up and showed off his earthbending skills, and with a flash of her eyes, she remembered where she saw him before. He was one of the participants in the tournament - a member of the Viper Bats if she wasn't mistaken. "You assume correctly," she replied, before coming back to her stance. She jabbed at the target again, much fiercer this time, until she set the wooden dummy on fire. With a satisfied smirk - the thought that she would have to compensate for the destroyed dummy later filed at the back of her mind - she turned to the boy again. She held out her hand. "Kimiko Tetsume. Raven Eagles." Xeno arrived in the gym just moments before another team popped inside. Xeno shot them a look, before coming up beside Kimiko. "You know them?" they asked. Kimiko looked up and watched as the two guys taught the girl the basics, and she smiled to herself. "Elephant Kois," she finally said. "Where's Kai?" "He's cleaning up his mess." "Again?" Xeno nodded with a neutral look. She then turned her eyes towards Ryko. "Earthbender?" they asked, but continued without waiting for an answer. "We should spar. It wouldn't be a fair fight with one of you and two of us, though, so how about just us?" Kimiko shrugged before whistling loudly, enough to get the attention of everyone in the gym. "Fellas," she called out towards the Elephant Kois, "Want to lend one of your teammates to aid Mr. Earthbender over there in a sparring match?"</s> <\|message\|>Liang Xian It wasn't long until Liang was again able to move her head properly thanks to Shin's skills as an amateur masseur. She got on her feet and casually picked up the waterbenders jacket. After some - noticeably exaggerated - difficulties she was wearing it properly and glanced at her two teammates. "Now, I'm going to do some scouting!" Her declaration was punctuated with a rather goofy little pose. Shin shook his head slightly and glanced at Gen. "Well, if our dear captain wants to do some scouting there isn't anything we can say about that." The tall earthbender rolled his eyes "Yes we could." It was a very blunt and very correct statement and Shin didn't want to argue with his more ...stubborn... friend. He just nodded. "Yes, yes we could, but I for one won't. Now, if your damn back hasn't miraculously fixed itself I now have some time to fix it." "I'll be back after a while! If you smell smoke it might not be me this time. Don't hurt each other when I'm gone!" Liang stated quickly before disappearing from the room - leaving her teammates just looking at each other with amusement. They both began laughing and Shin nearly fell from the sofa. "She really hasn't changed at all..." He managed from between bursts of laughter. Gen managed to nearly collect himself before bursting in to laughter again "She really hasn't." The tall earthbender managed to seat himself in front of the waterbender and even gathered his composure. "You think we should...?" Shin shook his head and began working on Gen's back. "No we shouldn't. Let her blow off some steam on her own for now... Seriously, how have you gotten your back in to this condition??" The earthbender coughed and mumbled "...Training..." _____________ "Where is it? Wheeeeere is it??" Liang more or less ran around while examining the place and finally she located what she was looking for - the gym, or was it a sparring area? Oh well the name of the particular place wasn't important, finding it was. She entered just as someone had issued a not-quite-a-challenge. What she could tell there were members of atleast two other teams present. She was quite certain none of them would be old enough to remember her or her team - not that it really mattered to Liang, apart from the fact that it would make them lose some of their as she called it 'fright factor' - since they had been pretty good back in the day. She made sure that the sleeve of her jacket was properly tucked to a pocket so it seemed like she was just holding her hand there - the firebender silently berated her for forgetting her prosthetic, if she'd just turn around now anyone wouldn't notice that she was there and she could make a better first impression. Admittedly she had already stepped in to the gym so there was really no turning back. Liang felt so very lost for just a few seconds, why hadn't she asked the boys to come with her? What should she say? Shin would know what to say... After what felt like an eternity - in truth she had stood there for maybe 10 seconds - the firebender smiled sheepishly, waved her arm even more sheepishly and managed to say a barely audiable "Hi."</s> <\|message\|>Siku Juntenka Ryko shakes her hand and says, "Ryko Kasaisekitan." She makes the comment about the sparring and he's about to respond when a smug, amused voice comes out from behind him. "That won't be necessary, darlin'." Ryou walks over and throws his arm around Ryko's shoulders. "Already getting into trouble, eh, little brother?" Ryko shrugs his brother arm off of him and snaps, "I'm not getting into trouble. They just want a sparring partner. I figured it would be fine." Ryou rolls his eyes at his brother and turns to the two benders standing in front of him. "Ryou Kasaisekitan, this punk's twin older brother. If you want a sparring match, you got one. I am the fire bender for the Viper Bats and my brother is the earth bender, if you can't already tell." He glares over at his brother. "It's a fair fight now, so why don't we get set up?" Ryou walks away a little bit, firing a couple shots toward the target next to Kimiko's. His blasts are much hotter and a lot larger than hers, and they burn through the target almost immediately. He chuckles and turns back to Kimiko and Xeno. "Well, I'm warmed up. Let's go. I could use the practice." --------------------------------------- Siku takes a deep breath before walking into the gym. She had come with Ryou, but he had disappeared from her side once they had entered the area. She sees the two brothers talking to some benders from another team. She cringes as she recognizes Kimiko Tetsume from the Raven Eagles and immediately goes to the other side of the gym to make sure to stay away from them. So, she walks over to the water bending area and begins to practice.</s>	<\|message\|>Bon Xiu Kimiko shrugged before whistling loudly, enough to get the attention of everyone in the gym. "Fellas," she called out towards the Elephant Kois, "Want to lend one of your teammates to aid Mr. Earthbender over there in a sparring match?" "For a pretty girl like you, I'll spar anyone." said Bon. "Who wants to spar?" He looked around to see if anyone responded. Wes sighed, then introduced the team to the others that were there. "I'm Wes Xiu, Earthbender, that bone-head over there is Bon, my brother, and Waterbender, and this is Min Sun, our little sis, and a Firebender. Our Firebender quit on us the same night we won a spot in the championship, so we had to get Min to fill in. We came to get her some practice before the tournament, so if anyone should spar with one of you, it's her. In fact, if two of you want to take us on, I'll take you on with her on my side."</s>
<\|description\|>Bon Xiu Age: 26 Sex: Any time you want, babe. Male Team: Elephant Kois Role: Water Appearance: Personality: Self absorbed, but fun loving. He may think everyone should like the same things he does, but that's just because he knows those things are the most fun and wants everyone to have fun. Some people wonder if he's capable of understanding that other people might have different interests. Background: Born on Kioshi Island, his father a simple Earth bender/fisherman and his mom a healer from the Swamp benders, he and his brother grew up on the beach. One day, however, a hurricane came to the island. Many people were killed, including his father. After that they moved to Republic city to get a fresh start and try and forget the tragedy. Their mom fell in love with a Fire bender working in the city power plant and got remarried, and a few years later, they had a sister. This didn't keep them at home, however, and they were always going to the beach just outside the city. When they grew up they decided to become pro benders, as it seemed like the most fun way of earning a living. Everything was going good until their fire bender decided to quit. They quickly replaced him with the only fire bender they knew that would join them on short notice, their sister. Unfortunately, she is pathetic at practice, so she doesn't get in much practice. Name: Wes Xiu Age: 24 Sex: Depends who's asking. Male Team: Elephant Kois Role: Earth Appearance: Personality: Partier. He's always looking for a way to have fun, and wants to have as much fun as he can. The closest he comes to having a job is selling the statues he makes out of beach sand. Background: Born on Kioshi Island, his father a simple Earth bender/fisherman and his mom a healer from the Swamp benders, he and his brother grew up on the beach. One day, however, a hurricane came to the island. Many people were killed, including his father. After that they moved to Republic city to get a fresh start and try and forget the tragedy. Their mom fell in love with a Fire bender working in the city power plant and got remarried, and a few years later, they had a sister. This didn't keep them at home, however, and they were always going to the beach just outside the city. When they grew up they decided to become pro benders, as it seemed like the most fun way of earning a living. Everything was going good until their fire bender decided to quit. They quickly replaced him with the only fire bender they knew that would join them on short notice, their sister. Unfortunately, she is pathetic at practice, so she doesn't get in much practice. Name: Min Sun Age: 18 Sex: Female Team: Elephant Kois Role: Fire Bender Appearance: Personality: Timid and subservient, she isn't seems to only want to make others happy and to be unable to stand up for herself. When she gets into the ring, however, she changes. Once she gets hit she kind of loses it and goes into all-out attack mode. Background: Her mom moved to Republic city from Kioshi island following some tragedy, and met her dad. They fell in love and got married, and eventually she was born. She didn't get along to well with her brothers. While they were out playing on the beach, she was at home studying like a good girl. She did well in school, graduating near the top of her class. She did her chores like she was told, and even did her brother's chores for them sometimes so they could go to the beach. When she got out of school, she planned on finding a nice job, a husband, buying a house in the city, and having kids. Her brothers, however, wanted her to join some sports team they started. She decided to help them, at least until they could find a replacement.</s> <\|message\|>Xeno Kimiko practiced a few jabs, sending fireballs towards a dummy a couple of feet away. Her chest heaved as she let her hands fall to her knees, taking a moment to catch her breath, and watch the sweat roll off her forehead and drop onto the floor. It was then that the door slammed open, revealing a dark haired boy that Kimiko has seen around before. Kimiko watched as the boy warmed up and showed off his earthbending skills, and with a flash of her eyes, she remembered where she saw him before. He was one of the participants in the tournament - a member of the Viper Bats if she wasn't mistaken. "You assume correctly," she replied, before coming back to her stance. She jabbed at the target again, much fiercer this time, until she set the wooden dummy on fire. With a satisfied smirk - the thought that she would have to compensate for the destroyed dummy later filed at the back of her mind - she turned to the boy again. She held out her hand. "Kimiko Tetsume. Raven Eagles." Xeno arrived in the gym just moments before another team popped inside. Xeno shot them a look, before coming up beside Kimiko. "You know them?" they asked. Kimiko looked up and watched as the two guys taught the girl the basics, and she smiled to herself. "Elephant Kois," she finally said. "Where's Kai?" "He's cleaning up his mess." "Again?" Xeno nodded with a neutral look. She then turned her eyes towards Ryko. "Earthbender?" they asked, but continued without waiting for an answer. "We should spar. It wouldn't be a fair fight with one of you and two of us, though, so how about just us?" Kimiko shrugged before whistling loudly, enough to get the attention of everyone in the gym. "Fellas," she called out towards the Elephant Kois, "Want to lend one of your teammates to aid Mr. Earthbender over there in a sparring match?"</s> <\|message\|>Liang Xian It wasn't long until Liang was again able to move her head properly thanks to Shin's skills as an amateur masseur. She got on her feet and casually picked up the waterbenders jacket. After some - noticeably exaggerated - difficulties she was wearing it properly and glanced at her two teammates. "Now, I'm going to do some scouting!" Her declaration was punctuated with a rather goofy little pose. Shin shook his head slightly and glanced at Gen. "Well, if our dear captain wants to do some scouting there isn't anything we can say about that." The tall earthbender rolled his eyes "Yes we could." It was a very blunt and very correct statement and Shin didn't want to argue with his more ...stubborn... friend. He just nodded. "Yes, yes we could, but I for one won't. Now, if your damn back hasn't miraculously fixed itself I now have some time to fix it." "I'll be back after a while! If you smell smoke it might not be me this time. Don't hurt each other when I'm gone!" Liang stated quickly before disappearing from the room - leaving her teammates just looking at each other with amusement. They both began laughing and Shin nearly fell from the sofa. "She really hasn't changed at all..." He managed from between bursts of laughter. Gen managed to nearly collect himself before bursting in to laughter again "She really hasn't." The tall earthbender managed to seat himself in front of the waterbender and even gathered his composure. "You think we should...?" Shin shook his head and began working on Gen's back. "No we shouldn't. Let her blow off some steam on her own for now... Seriously, how have you gotten your back in to this condition??" The earthbender coughed and mumbled "...Training..." _____________ "Where is it? Wheeeeere is it??" Liang more or less ran around while examining the place and finally she located what she was looking for - the gym, or was it a sparring area? Oh well the name of the particular place wasn't important, finding it was. She entered just as someone had issued a not-quite-a-challenge. What she could tell there were members of atleast two other teams present. She was quite certain none of them would be old enough to remember her or her team - not that it really mattered to Liang, apart from the fact that it would make them lose some of their as she called it 'fright factor' - since they had been pretty good back in the day. She made sure that the sleeve of her jacket was properly tucked to a pocket so it seemed like she was just holding her hand there - the firebender silently berated her for forgetting her prosthetic, if she'd just turn around now anyone wouldn't notice that she was there and she could make a better first impression. Admittedly she had already stepped in to the gym so there was really no turning back. Liang felt so very lost for just a few seconds, why hadn't she asked the boys to come with her? What should she say? Shin would know what to say... After what felt like an eternity - in truth she had stood there for maybe 10 seconds - the firebender smiled sheepishly, waved her arm even more sheepishly and managed to say a barely audiable "Hi."</s> <\|message\|>Siku Juntenka Ryko shakes her hand and says, "Ryko Kasaisekitan." She makes the comment about the sparring and he's about to respond when a smug, amused voice comes out from behind him. "That won't be necessary, darlin'." Ryou walks over and throws his arm around Ryko's shoulders. "Already getting into trouble, eh, little brother?" Ryko shrugs his brother arm off of him and snaps, "I'm not getting into trouble. They just want a sparring partner. I figured it would be fine." Ryou rolls his eyes at his brother and turns to the two benders standing in front of him. "Ryou Kasaisekitan, this punk's twin older brother. If you want a sparring match, you got one. I am the fire bender for the Viper Bats and my brother is the earth bender, if you can't already tell." He glares over at his brother. "It's a fair fight now, so why don't we get set up?" Ryou walks away a little bit, firing a couple shots toward the target next to Kimiko's. His blasts are much hotter and a lot larger than hers, and they burn through the target almost immediately. He chuckles and turns back to Kimiko and Xeno. "Well, I'm warmed up. Let's go. I could use the practice." --------------------------------------- Siku takes a deep breath before walking into the gym. She had come with Ryou, but he had disappeared from her side once they had entered the area. She sees the two brothers talking to some benders from another team. She cringes as she recognizes Kimiko Tetsume from the Raven Eagles and immediately goes to the other side of the gym to make sure to stay away from them. So, she walks over to the water bending area and begins to practice.</s> <\|message\|>Bon Xiu Kimiko shrugged before whistling loudly, enough to get the attention of everyone in the gym. "Fellas," she called out towards the Elephant Kois, "Want to lend one of your teammates to aid Mr. Earthbender over there in a sparring match?" "For a pretty girl like you, I'll spar anyone." said Bon. "Who wants to spar?" He looked around to see if anyone responded. Wes sighed, then introduced the team to the others that were there. "I'm Wes Xiu, Earthbender, that bone-head over there is Bon, my brother, and Waterbender, and this is Min Sun, our little sis, and a Firebender. Our Firebender quit on us the same night we won a spot in the championship, so we had to get Min to fill in. We came to get her some practice before the tournament, so if anyone should spar with one of you, it's her. In fact, if two of you want to take us on, I'll take you on with her on my side."</s> <\|message\|>Xeno Kimiko watched as people after people came in the gym and a grin took over her face. She could feel herself getting fired up just by seeing all her opponents. Even the cockiness of some only proved to ignite the flame inside her further. Xeno, seeing this, sighed. "So, I guess this is happening, huh?" After seeing an enthusiastic nod from Kimiko, Xeno craned her neck to look over the opponents. Team Elephant Kois was in complete attendance, as was the Viper Bats. And there was one member of the Legendary Lion-Turtles that popped in. They were definitely contenders, teams they knew would prove to be strong opponents in the field, and Xeno felt just how pumped up their team leader was. "How about we do it this way," they began, bending and bringing up four earth slabs, "Two teams of two, with one person from each team as a representative for this sparring match." Kimiko stepped up next to her teammate and lowered her goggles to her eyes. "I'll be representing the Raven Eagles. Which one of you is going to be my partner?" Xeno grinned and bended the slab towards Kimiko, carving the number one on it. They bended the same number on one of the remaining slabs and the number two on the rest. "Oh, and Xeno, we're gonna need a referee," Kimiko added as an afterthought. She turned towards the other teams while pointing with her thumb towards her teammate. "You guys okay if Xeno over there took up that role? If they try to cheat, you have my permission to beat them up." Xeno's only response was a small smirk towards Kimiko, as though saying they'd like to see them try, but said nothing as she waited for the rest of the teams to offer up someone. Kimiko pumped her fist in the air. "Come on, people. This is a learning experience!"</s> <\|message\|>Liang Xian Liang managed to pump herself up a bit at the prospect of having a little sparring match. She smiled quite excitedly and shrugged her shoulders "Heck, why not. I'm in." The firebender began tucking her jacket sleeve in to a better position and mumbled something about forgetting things, then she just opened her jacket and tossed it aside. Under the jacket she wore a simple white shirt that had only one sleeve to cover the stump of her arm. "So, who wants a handicap for their team?" Though Liang was quite self-conscious about her handicap she wasn't above jesting about it at this point. When someone mentioned cheating the firebender tensed up a bit - quite noticeably actually, but atleast she managed to keep her cool - though her voice was ever so slightly strained. "No need to worry about cheating on my part, just warning you. If anyone tries something fishy they got me to contend with." Liang pointed herself with her thumb and tried to look intimidating. Then she smirked excitedly and coughed "Oh, where are my manners!" Liang shook her head a bit before taking a goofy little pose. "I'm Liang Xian! The captain of the Legendary Lion-turtles!"</s>	<\|message\|>Bon Xiu "Nice to meet you, Liang." said Wes. "I'll team up with you. And don't worry, we don't cheat. So, you're fire? I'm Earth. We should make a good team." He was purposely ignoring her missing arm. Min stepped forward. "Actually, Wes, I think I need the practice. I'll go up against her, if you'll let me." Wes nodded. "Sure, that'll work. We'll go get ready." They moved the equipment around in their practice area, getting it ready. When they were done, Min stood in her starter position. "We're ready." Said Wes.</s>
<\|description\|>Crum Age: 26 Attire/Apperance: Bald, however has a tattoo of a facemask on his scalp. Has tattoos of two daggers on both of his forearms. He wears cloth under leather armor (his forearms are bare), and has cloth padded boots. Most of his attire is meant for stealth. Otherwise his face has a scar on his right cheek. About 5'6, 150 lbs his build is what you would expect of a man who clawed his way out of the trash. Race: Human Gender: Male Occupation: Assassin Location: South End/Slums A Brief History: Born in the streets of the slums, Crum had no name until he was nearly 5 years old. Spending his life grovelling and begging for scraps of rotten food in the alleyways he hadn't a need for one. He decided on the name "Crum" because a passerby once told him he was a crumb. Not knowing any language he simply took it as what he was supposed to be called. Around the age of 14 Crum was too old, too beaten, too dirty to receive any real help from the poor folk of the slums; besides, he had lived through 'childhood', unlike most of the other kids he had known. Being that old meant that he had to find a way to scrape together the means of living. Over the next 2 years Crum lived a life of theft, stealing his way to meals, and a place to sleep. When he was 16 a man put enough money for a meal the size of his last 30 meals in his hand along with a small shank; he was told to kill a man. Crum obliged. Crum also found his innate magical abilities at this time. Eventually, Crum became an assassin for hire in the underground world. Garnering enough money to afford clothes, food, and weapons to aid in his career. Other: Possesses an ability that lets Crum hide items as tattoos. Has a limited pool of magical energy to unhide/hide items. The larger the item the more energy it takes. Generally 'unsheathing' one dagger, and putting on his facemask take about the same amount of energy. He can probably do about 20 of these 'one way transactions' per day. (please help me find a better verb for un-tattooing and tattooing items) Extremely skilled in stealth and speed. His close range combat with his 2-dagger style has much to improve on, however is still quite skilled with them.</s> <\|message\|>Scarlet It was the beginning of another day in the city. The night shift had ended just hours ago, and the morning shift workers were making their way to work. Many of those workers were human, and were forced to walk. If they were lucky, they may have had a bicycle with which to reach their destination. Others fortunately lived near or on site of their work place, and so were lucky, as the metropolis was large indeed. The rest of the many species of the city however were, mostly, given privilege to modes of transportation such as high-speed electronic highways, trollies, even hovering vehicles that could soar through the skies. But not the humans. For here in this city, despite it's location on Earth as one of the few standing civilizations, Humanity was on the bottom rung, the lowest block of the totem pole, society's mud crawlers. Nearly five thousand years ago, more or less, humanity was at it's peak- flying cars provided to the masses, space colonization was on the brink of discovery, and the governments were stable in their positions as the highest order. But war was still rampant, poverty, famine, still all too common. The world was slowly dying, and the true reason for movement to space was revealed; nuclear war was all too likely to happen at any given moment. But it did not happen. Apparently humanity was close to destroying the Earth, for the Gods themselves came to it's salvation. The war was swift, if war it could be called. Over fifty percent of humans were killed, their cities ravaged, and the rest enslaved. Earth was reborn, it's wounds healed in an instant, and what was left of humanity was forced to build grand cities. Not for themselves, but for those who would now inherit the Earth. For when Man was overthrown, those creatures who lived in secrecy, in hiding, came back into life as if they had always been, creatures from old wives tales so called fictional, and even things that were not imagined save in dream or nightmare. The primary city that was built was Enigma. While three quarters of the city were built with all that man had achieved, and even more by secrets the Gods now revealed to the builders, the fourth was constructed as the cities of old, made of stone and brick, but not a shred of technology to be found. For they were quite closely monitored when constructing this quarter, the one they were destined to live within. Punishment for the enslaved, for the enslavement so long held over the Earth. The Gods ruled with an iron fist for one thousand years, as more and more so called Mythical creatures sprung up around the globe, and migrated to the few cities; most made their way to Enigma. In time, the gods decided that rule over humanity should belong not to them, but rather to those that had been forced into hiding so long ago. And so, the Hierarchy of the Elders was created, and those that led were chosen, either by the Gods themselves, or by the people of the city. It has been four thousand years since the gods departed, leaving the world in the care of the Hierarchy. More creatures have continued to make their appearance, even entirely Alien species in some cases. But Humanity has not been idle. An organization, dubbed Chaos, had arisen in the years of the Hierarchy's rule. While open warfare was scarce, the Humans continued to fight a war of espionage, subtlety, and sabotage against the ruling body of their city. The ultimate goal, was to reclaim the rights they once had over the planet, starting with Enigma. So it was, another day. The nocturnal creatures were now going off to their respective homes, and there was a brief period where the city lay comparatively quite, then it is alive once more with creatures of many different species moving to and fro, conducting their business. There were few clouds, the sun was rising over the entertainment district, and, for most, it was a beautiful day, full of promise. For others, it was simply another day of plotting, preparation, and shady dealings. It was another day, in the city of Enigma.</s> <\|message\|>Astirith The slums. The worst place of modern society. It was the place where the 'weak' were kept. It was sad really. Here was where humans were harassed the most. They were poor, street rats. None were there to pity them except each other. Astirith didn't like the place. It looked pathetic compared to the others cities and such. Even the wastelands beyond the cities looked nicer than this at times. Astirith sat at a table inside a bar. His wings wrapped around him to hide his stature and appearance. Astirith often found himself in a bar. It wasn't because he was a drinker but because this was the most likely place for harassment to take place. It was early and he was sure people would come in the get a drink to take a bit of the pressure off. Astirith looked around to see if anything was going on. A few demons walked in and began to make trouble. They always did, they were demons, there wasn't a reason for them to not think they were better. Demons were powerful compared to most races the inhabited the earth, their demonic Magic gave them a great advantage too. One demon grabbed a man and tossed him from his seat. "You're in my seat meat puppet." Meat puppet. A common term here. Humans were slaves and often didn't pull the strings around here...or anywhere for that reason. The demon walked up to the human and lifted him up. Another punch crossed the humans face as he fell again. Astirith stood up from behind them and made his move. A sword pierced the demons heart. His body burned a bit as the blade pierced his heart. His body dropped as the two occompaning demons faced Astirith. "You just signed your death sentence puppet." The demon said aloud. Astirith's wings unfolded. A holy light shined creating a radiant glow. The demons looked on shocked. "An angel? How is..thi- this possible. Your kind left long ago." One demon said nervously. "I guess not all of us." Astirith said in a chilling voice. "You fools forget...you may be free to wander the earth but you are not free of sin. I can punish you for your crimes against God or you can never come back. Now grab your friends Caracas and make a choice. The demons picked up their dead friend and fled the scene. Astirith sheathed his blade. His wings folded around him forming a cloak. He turned around and began to walk out the bar and leave the area. He wasn't to leave the slums but to find a private place to pray and atone for his sins.</s>	<\|message\|>Crum =The Slums= The Sinner's Alley. A small tavern where the crooked of the slums sometimes gathered. Broken tables and chairs lined the sides of the room, with whatever furniture that was still usable assembled neatly in the middle. A few men in tattered clothes sat at the bar conversing with the tavern owner about rumors the whispers of the dark. In the corner near the entrance sat a figure in a black cloak, illuminated by the morning sun. A half full dirty mug of pale beer that had long since gone flat sat on the table in front of him, along with a small cloth pouch of coin. This was a human, long since left in the wake of the coming of the creatures of myth and legend. Old gods long ago sentenced humans to the bleak role of slave, insect, tool. This man had no need, nor faith in such gods. This man's name was Crum. Postured in his seat as if he were comfortable in the dark, musty room. As though he were enjoying his morning 'brew' Crum listened, half interested, to the chatter taking place at the bar. "I'm telling you, you're better off here.", the tavern keeper said flatly to one man. "And I'm telling you I've spent my days here in the shadows long enough. Doing nothing. Thinking nothing. Being nothing.", the man replied coldly. "I may become a slave, but at least I'll be surrounded by better than broken homes, people, and the creatures that stir here." "At least here you have free will." "What is free will if there is no life to it? Every single day I wander about with no aim, and find myself in the Junk Heaps. Then I sort through those with the rest of the nobodies and then take whatever I fend to the merchants. Whatever I get there I bring here, and give it to you." snorted the man, "And then I get to sit down to this.". The man gestured at the half-eaten, half-rotten bun sitting in front of him. "I would rather be a slave than continue being the trash that the higher society dumps here." Crum, long since understood that only a certain kind of man could upset the norms of the slums. A man of steel, forged in the fires of the cruel world they were sentenced to, and shaped by the unforgiving streets of the slums. A man who would fight, steal, or kill for the chance to continue living. He did not judge, or condemn the actions of this man who would give up his freedoms to not care for his own shelter, food and clothing. However he knew that this man did not have the mettle to continue on down here in the slums. For that you must have a stronger mental fortitude. Crum was not interested in this conversation of freedoms and slavery, he was much more interested in the conversation between the two men at the far end of the bar who would occasionally look in his direction and continue muttering on. But Crum is a patient man, and sensed that eventually, they would come to him. "Until then...", he thought, as he took another sip of his beer, and enjoyed what he could, of the warm glow of the sun.</s>
<\|description\|>Hael Ecos Age: 18 Attire/Appearance: Hael is 5'6" with a thin, lean build. She weighs in at about 120 lbs. Race: Human Gender: Female Occupation: Slave Location: North End, in Zalek's section of the Elder's Lair A Brief History: Hael was born to Timothy and Sophie Ecos, two slaves that had fallen in love while under the same owner. That owner died as Hael was born, leaving in his will that the family was to be set free and to be paid for any further servitude. Her parents managed to buy a home, even advocating for human rights. They dabbled in the rebellion, but were captured soon after they began to become public disturbances. Hael was taken from them when she was about 4 and auctioned as a slave to the rich in North End. She barely remembers her parents, but she does remember being taken from them. Her owner gave her a story that made her parents sound like foolish troublemakers in order to keep Hael from questioning the law. Other: Has hidden elemental magic. Hael can control light, but has recently been able to dabble in water magic. She has kept this magic a secret so far, knowing what slave owners do to humans with magic.</s> <\|message\|>Crum =The Slums= The Sinner's Alley. A small tavern where the crooked of the slums sometimes gathered. Broken tables and chairs lined the sides of the room, with whatever furniture that was still usable assembled neatly in the middle. A few men in tattered clothes sat at the bar conversing with the tavern owner about rumors the whispers of the dark. In the corner near the entrance sat a figure in a black cloak, illuminated by the morning sun. A half full dirty mug of pale beer that had long since gone flat sat on the table in front of him, along with a small cloth pouch of coin. This was a human, long since left in the wake of the coming of the creatures of myth and legend. Old gods long ago sentenced humans to the bleak role of slave, insect, tool. This man had no need, nor faith in such gods. This man's name was Crum. Postured in his seat as if he were comfortable in the dark, musty room. As though he were enjoying his morning 'brew' Crum listened, half interested, to the chatter taking place at the bar. "I'm telling you, you're better off here.", the tavern keeper said flatly to one man. "And I'm telling you I've spent my days here in the shadows long enough. Doing nothing. Thinking nothing. Being nothing.", the man replied coldly. "I may become a slave, but at least I'll be surrounded by better than broken homes, people, and the creatures that stir here." "At least here you have free will." "What is free will if there is no life to it? Every single day I wander about with no aim, and find myself in the Junk Heaps. Then I sort through those with the rest of the nobodies and then take whatever I fend to the merchants. Whatever I get there I bring here, and give it to you." snorted the man, "And then I get to sit down to this.". The man gestured at the half-eaten, half-rotten bun sitting in front of him. "I would rather be a slave than continue being the trash that the higher society dumps here." Crum, long since understood that only a certain kind of man could upset the norms of the slums. A man of steel, forged in the fires of the cruel world they were sentenced to, and shaped by the unforgiving streets of the slums. A man who would fight, steal, or kill for the chance to continue living. He did not judge, or condemn the actions of this man who would give up his freedoms to not care for his own shelter, food and clothing. However he knew that this man did not have the mettle to continue on down here in the slums. For that you must have a stronger mental fortitude. Crum was not interested in this conversation of freedoms and slavery, he was much more interested in the conversation between the two men at the far end of the bar who would occasionally look in his direction and continue muttering on. But Crum is a patient man, and sensed that eventually, they would come to him. "Until then...", he thought, as he took another sip of his beer, and enjoyed what he could, of the warm glow of the sun.</s> <\|message\|>Zalek "Tell us what you know and we will end your life painlessly!" Zalek barely felt the blow that struck his face, in fact he had not really felt it at all just a mere blade of grass touching his skin in the end. However he moved his head with the blow and made it look as if these Chaos lackeys were damaging him, each blow he made small changes to his appearance to make it look as if they were harming him. It was sad however that with all their threats they truly did not know that the one they were punching was playing them like the weak minded fools they were. Zalek moved his hands idly as they were bound with rope behind him on the small wooden chair they had tied him to. He made sure not to move them too much for he did not want to accidentally break the rope before the right time. It was hard to contain his strength when he was bound by these weak human inventions, out of them all rope was of the weakest to restrain him, but they didn't know that, why would they, after all, they were still under the assumption that he was a human. It amazed him how low the intelligence of these humans was, in fact he did not understand how this group called Chaos had lasted this long. Then again their leader had alluded them time and time again, so he had to at least give them a couple props for that. If it wasn't for the fact that their leader always escaped he wouldn't even have to be here right now, entertaining the thought of himself being tortured to these fools. So far the plan had gone accordingly which had been easy enough, he himself visiting the slums to supposedly spit upon the slaves who stayed there, an then these Chaos lackeys who had found out about his plans from their mole in the city would swoop in to capture him. They killed the slaves who had been escorting him, never realizing they were in fact slaves. Then again maybe they did realize it and did not care, him being the target either way, but alas it made no difference in the end. It was too bad that their little mole had already been dispatched by way of execution unknowing to them, and that Zalek had sent his own subject Srix disguised as the mole to tell them his travel plans. They never did learn that they could not fool Zalek with their infiltrators, and soon they were going to learn that lesson the hard way. Zalek watched as the Chaos lackey punched him in the stomach, he fake heaved and went forward a little to continue the illusion as the man waved his hand hurt from the hard blow he made. "This bastard ain't talking, we should just kill him and get it over with. There is no other use for him, and at least in the end we will have struck a great blow against the Elders." "No we need him alive we can ransom him back to the Elders, we can bring them too their knee's with him as our prisoner." "Thats right! We could be hero's among Chaos! I can't believe our planned worked so well these Elder's for all their power truly have no brains." Zalek listened to the humans speak their plans so openly as if they truly believed that they could bring the Elder's to their knee's with him as a prisoner. Even if he was a prisoner the Elder's would never make a deal, that was the way it went, a new Elder would be chosen if one died. But these fools did not know that for the current Elder's did not require replacement yet. Zalek shook his head realizing these low level lackey's would not provide him with the information he seeked, it seemed that they were just working for themselves, and that this entire charade was a waste of time. However it was possible that these two idiots could have useful information so he would just capture them and end this. Zalek had grown tired of the shape he had assumed to be captured, the shape that these humans only ever saw him as. It was a sad but true fact that the human resistance did not know his true form, whenever he found himself in public or around the eye's of anyone besides the other Elders or those he trusted, he took the appearance of a weak old man, the perfect target for these humans. They had a thing for going after the weakest looking Elder, something he had learned well early on, and it worked well. Zalek was silent as he slowly pulled his hands apart and broke the rope around his wrists, they had not bother to tether him fully seeming they thought he just an old man. That would be their fatal mistake even thought fully restraining him would have played out to the same conclusion. As the two men finished conversion about their plans and their hero status they turned as they walked back to Zalek, pulling what appeared to be a dirty nap sack the first man came to cover his head like they had when they captured him. However Zalek brought his hands forward in front of him as he grabbed the first mans hand and squeezed it, there was a sick crack of bones as the man screamed loudly, Zalek pulled him in at fast speed as he brought his head forward and slammed his skull into the mans head knocking him back, he was unconscious almost immediately as Zalek stood up, the other man had already ran for the door and opened it. As he opened it however Srix was standing in it, his eye's flashing with cold fury. The man tried to punch Srix but he caught the attack and brought the mans arm sideways slamming it into the crease of the wall, it broke with a loud snap as the skin was pierced by broken bone. The man opened his mouth to scream but Srix brought his hand up and covered his mouth with a large bowl like hand silencing him immediately. The man brought his hands up to try and remove Srix's hand but he was powerless to stop him, as his air was cut off he slowly passed out as Srix let him drop to the ground as Zalek stood up fully shaking his head at the two unconscious men. Walking over to the man Srix had knocked out he bent down silently as he looked at him, blood was already formed a puddle underneath him from his pierced arm. How was something so weak meant to survive? They would not last even a second on his home planet, their death's would be almost instantaneous. Zalek stood back up as Dagon entered the room silently and stood besides Srix. "Dagon grab the man behind me, Srix grab this one, were taking them back with us. Take them to interrogation center, make sure those wounds are taken care of I don't want them dead before there is a chance to torture them." "Yes Lord Zalek" Both men responded at the same time as they put a fist to their chest's and then each collected a man and threw them over their shoulders. Zalek sighed as he walked over to the corner and grabbed his discarded robe they had ripped from him when they arrived. Throwing it around his shoulders he put his hands through the arm holes as it flowed behind him before settling. Pulling the hood up slowly he covered his face as the face wounds disappeared into nothing. It was going to be another long day, but one way or another he was going to end this rebellion once and for all. Turned his back on the room he walked out of the dark secluded dirty surrounding and walked into the sunlight as his two bodyguards followed.</s>	<\|message\|>Hael Ecos Sun poured into the modern wing of the Elder's home as Hael pushed the curtains back from the almost floor to ceiling windows in the main room of Zalek's wing. "He always keeps it so dark in here," she muttered, preferring the warm light over the unnatural artificial light within the wing. She stood back with a smile and surveyed the bright room. With a satisfied nod, Hael moved to the closet under the stairs, pulling out her cleaning supplies. It was going to be another long day of dusting, vacuuming, mopping, and running errands for Zalek. She had already washed the dishes from the large breakfast Dagon and Srix had asked for. By the time they had left, she was up to her elbows in dishes and soap, scrubbing away at their dirty plates. The appetites of those two hardly awed her in the past few years. At around age 10 she had finally been deemed old enough to complete some of the more serious duties, like serving food to Zalek's men. On her first day she couldn't help but stare at the large men as they ate. Eight years later, she tried to busy herself with thinking of the poetry she had learned from Zalek's library. On most days, the two men barely spoke as they ate, but it wasn't always such a bore. Every now and then they would discuss news from the outside world. Hael always listened intently, although she never let them catch on. The politics and rising rebellions intrigued Hael more than she would admit. She could only hope that none of them had caught on to her eavesdroppings. Hael hummed quietly as she dusted off each room but Zalek's private room. It was the only one in the wing she wasn't allowed to enter. The ban from the room only made her even more curious about what secrets lay inside. She had only gotten peeks at the room over her time here, but none of them ever lasted longer than a second. Hael sighed softly as she finished dusting, moving on to vacuum. Afterwards, she mopped the hard floors in the wing. By the time she had finished, she expected Zalek and the other two back for lunch. She sat down with a sigh of relief, pushing her hair back from her face. Although she had been doing the same thing for years, she'd never gotten used to it. Perhaps she needed to slow down and relax instead of finishing early. The only reason she worked so hard was so she could have the time between lunch and dinner to read. Or perhaps it was her late nights outside in the city that made her so exhausted the next morning. Either way, she didn't have any other time to relax but at night and after her chores were done. After a few moments of rest, Hael stood and returned the cleaning supplies to the closet. She could only hope that something interesting had happened on Zalek's trip to the slums. Otherwise, she was sure that today would be slow and boring. As she waited for Zalek to return, she watered the plants in his wing.</s>
<\|description\|>Hael Ecos Age: 18 Attire/Appearance: Hael is 5'6" with a thin, lean build. She weighs in at about 120 lbs. Race: Human Gender: Female Occupation: Slave Location: North End, in Zalek's section of the Elder's Lair A Brief History: Hael was born to Timothy and Sophie Ecos, two slaves that had fallen in love while under the same owner. That owner died as Hael was born, leaving in his will that the family was to be set free and to be paid for any further servitude. Her parents managed to buy a home, even advocating for human rights. They dabbled in the rebellion, but were captured soon after they began to become public disturbances. Hael was taken from them when she was about 4 and auctioned as a slave to the rich in North End. She barely remembers her parents, but she does remember being taken from them. Her owner gave her a story that made her parents sound like foolish troublemakers in order to keep Hael from questioning the law. Other: Has hidden elemental magic. Hael can control light, but has recently been able to dabble in water magic. She has kept this magic a secret so far, knowing what slave owners do to humans with magic.</s> <\|message\|>Quick Fang "Milo Cash" Quick Fang, or better known as his adopted name Milo Cash sat reminiscing on old memories, but unlike most this sitting wasn't sitting. It was more hanging upside down shirtless, off of the balcony about 127 floors off the ground well above the highway below enjoying the view and danger as one slip led to certain doom. In the old days dangling like this was common but normally it wasn't as high and was just thugs holding you up instead of a metal bar meant to keep you from falling. (This specific tower Milo liked due to it bringing back older style instead of ever updating looks of future it brought it back to simpler 2010's styles) "Guess since im reminiscing so much might as well go see what's up in the old neighborhood, maybe I'll see Nimble Tongue [one of the few other tibbits Milo ever met as they aren rare but are aldo considered low like humans but with more privileges.] That'd be an interesting time," he said as he started pulling himself up into his apartment. "Track system on, play current," Milo mever stopped listening to music especially music of early 2000's. "Track start:artist:Blink 182:currentsong:Adam's Song" the machine said in a sweet female voice causing Milo to just sigh. He was lonely at this point, a famous Tibbit who fought his way to stardom and yet, here he is alone with no one by his side. "I'll go down to the slums that's a good idea," he thought as he called his manager. "Yo man, I ain't exactly thinking I can cool it today. I'm gonna go down to the slums for a bit. I'll hit you once I'm back" "What!? You can't go down there the-- click" "Thanks big man" And with that Milo was on his way, off to the slums to see his old life. Arriving there he quickly became a sleek gray cat, with black front paws.</s> <\|message\|>Zalek "Bring them both Dagon, Srix get them in here." Zalek was subtle as he entered into his private wing, his two bodyguards were in tow the rebels from Chaos fully awake now and they were none too happy screaming and making a huge fuss. Zalek had decided that the interrogation wing was a waste of time, no he captured these two fools and he would be the one to interrogate them, after all he was the one overseer of interrogation anyways. It was one of his soul purposes to get information, a job he was extremely good at given his time as Master of Discipline back on his home planet. As The door closed behind them the men continued to scream profanity at all of them as their attempts to struggle were meant with strong painful grips from Dagon and Srix. "Drop them both, let them go." Zalek was silent as he crossed his arms and watched the two Chaos rebels drop to the ground, they both quickly gained their feet as they backed away from them, just like most cornered animals did. Zalek silently removed his hood as he gave it to Dagon who took it and stood nearby silently with Srix. Zalek moved forward as he approached the two rebels who had no place to go now. "Get back!!" One of the men yelled loudly as they quickly grabbed a near by vase dumping the contents on the floor and brandishing it in their hands as a weapon. Zalek shook his head at the man as he did not appreciate the mess he had just made, even these fools must realize that they were not going to escape. "Srix grab him will you." Srix nodded as he move forward to collect the man however the man screamed at Zalek making him put his hand up stopping Srix. "Yeah that's right have your flunkies subdue us, you Elders are weak can't even do your own dirty work. You gotta get others to get their hands dirty because you think your so much better then us! Your just wannabe figure heads that's why your gonna fall to Chaos!" Zalek was silent as he looked at the man with emotionless eye's, moving his fingers he motioned for Srix to fall back as he lowered his hand and reached down, unzipping his black jacket he silently removed it from his body revealing the emaciated looking ribs beneath, the old body he had assumed when he captured them. Giving the jacket to Dagon he walked forward as he stood in front of the two rebels. Slowing putting his arms out his body began to bubble almost as if was coming to a full boil, his body began to almost instantly change, the hair on his head slowly receded back in as his facial features changed at the same time, closing his eye's his arms and chest started to bulge out with muscle as the emaciated old man slowly transformed into a muscular male who looked about fifty. As the features finished taking place his head sprouted super short dark hair as his chin grew dark hair. His entire body changed before the two rebels who stood in horror and shock, Zalek slowly opened his eye's as they were a deep shade of red, his eye's were now fierce and bone chilling as he glared at the two rebels the old weak looking man now replaced by his true appearance. "What the hell! He just changed his appearance!" Zalek lowered his arms as the rebels began to freak out from his transformation, however he had heard enough of their words, at a neck break speed his crossed the room in seconds as he grabbed the man with the vase and gripped him by the throat and picked him up then slammed him into the ground with a loud thud. "Holy shit!" The other man screamed in pure fear he tried to turned and hightail it in the opposite direction but Zalek crossed the distance to him in mere seconds as he grabbed him by the back of the neck with a bowl sized hand. Squeezing the man let out a yelp as Zalek picked him up off his feet. Turning his tossed the man like a rag doll watching him smack the ground next to his friend. Zalek lowered his hands as he slowly made his way across the room to Dagon, taking his black jacket he slowly put it back on an zipped it back up as he then turned his attention back to the Rebels. Walking to them he slowly knelt down as they were both in obvious pain. "You know I get real tired of you Chaos lackeys and your words of heroics. You fight this battle against us Elders and you give yourself false hope that one day you will win. You merely show your lack of insight, your lack of intelligence. What will you do now that your powerless? What will you do now in the face of adversity? You will give up because your fake reality is crashing down. I have watched many men like you crumble, they cried and begged for their pathetic lives!" Zalek reached down and picked up both men one in each hand and slammed them into the wall behind them at the same time as they both opened their mouths in pain letting out a weak scream. "You don't care who you have to kill to get what you want... your so busy trying to gain a foothold some sort of elevation above the Elders that your forsake everything else. Would it shock you to know that the men and woman who were with me today escorting me in the slums were slaves dressed in disguise? That the lives you took were the lives of the same men and woman your pathetic rebellion is fighting to free and to protect! Of course you wouldn't because all you truly care about is trying to find some kind of freedom in a world that no longer belongs to you! You humans had your chance, and what did you do? You forsaken yourselves and nearly destroyed the entire world with your stupidity. You fight for a freedom you don't deserve, you get angry because we control you like children yet when you had freedom... you killed each other, raped each other, destroyed each other on nothing more then difference in belief." Zalek brought his face close to the two rebels as he tightened his grip on their necks forcing them to open their eye's and look into his own chilling glare. "I watched this world crumble for years, staying in the shadows, watching you destroy your own brothers and sisters. You humans are nothing more then animals who will turn on each other the moment when it suits your purpose. Thats why the Gods decided to enslave you and give us the power to rule over you. Thats why you will never win... thats why you will always be slaves... because you don't deserve anything more!" Zalek turned and threw both of them men to the floor as they slid little ways, both of them started to slowly cry from fear or pain Zalek did not care. "Take them to my private chamber, I will be along shortly to interrogate them." Both Srix and Dagon put their fist to their chest and nodded as they quickly collected the two men and disappeared into the next room. "Hael come here please." Zalek called for his servant as he silently waited for her to arrive.</s> <\|message\|>Voltrex Voltrex wiped off the blood from his face in disgust as he grumbled to himself. The new recruits that he was supposed to be training were as stubborn as the last recruits they had. He had taken the recruits after their training to a simple raiding mission of a supply truck going to the North End. One recruit decided to take it upon himself as the leader of the mission, but that ended in everyone being killed by the guards of the truck. Voltrex himself barely got out of there alive. He stopped off by his quarters and took a quick shower and changed before heading to Varin's office to report the incident. "Voltrex, how did the mission go?" asked Varin's informant who leaned against the wall sipping a unknown liquid from a mug that looked to have existed long ago. "It could have gone better." Voltrex shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes as well. He didn't want to mention that the recruits had died on the mission. It goes on his record and he'd rather keep that between himself and Varin. "Did anyone die?" the informant asked. "Yes." "How many?" "Classified." Voltrex turned away, ending the conversation as he continued his way to the large double doors of Varins office. He knocked on the office, checking to see if the informant had followed, but the said person was no where to be seen.</s> <\|message\|>Varin Hains Silence. How Varin hated it. He had just recently slipped under the radar, keeping Chaos from leaping off a building and right into the Elder's arms. Just a few of the members managed to be captured, eventually those numbers would be increased if they didn't act soon. And Varin knew that you can't have a rebellion without rebels. Varin was sitting at a desk, drinking in the dark. He scratched his head as he stared down at a device, he was looking at a blueprint he had managed to collect. It showed every street and building in the North End. He traced his finger lightly on the screen surveying the area before he closed the map and looked at one of Enigma as a whole. He sighed before closing that map and turning the device off and slipping it in his pocket. Varin yawned propping his head against his palm. He stared at his office door waiting in the dark. His head dropped several times before he finally gave in and let it fall, dozing off. Moments later he was brought back sharply by the sound of a loud knock. "Come in," he said straightening and pushing a button on his desk which brought the lights on.</s>	<\|message\|>Hael Ecos Hael had just finished watering a pretty little fern in the library when the sound of the front door opening caught her attention. She gripped the pitcher, tensing when she heard the shouts and curses of two foreign men. Zalek must have brought his work home with him. It was most likely to do with the slums, too. She snuck to the door and slowly cracked it open. Through the tiny crack, she could see the two large guards setting the two clearly upset men down. She remembered the first time that Zalek had brought one of his prisoner's home. The terrifying experience was one she did not want to remember. Especially since she was sure she would see the scene be repeated now. It wasn't going to be pleasant, but she had to watch and see what happens until her curiosity was sated. Hael gasped softly when the man dashed for the vase and dumped the contents, shutting the door just a little more so she wouldn't be seen. She watched intently, wondering what the man would do next. Surely the vase wouldn't be much help against Zalek or his two men. Hael watched as Srix approached, biting her lip nervously. She shook her head a little as the defensive man insulted Zalek. It was always a bad move to insult an elder. She didn't want these men to go through anymore pain than Zalek had planned for them already. She watched closely as Zalek transformed back into his usual shape. The frail, old man was now a powerful, dangerous one. She pitied the men. Their pain would come very soon. Zalek crossed the room swiftly and dealt with the men. Hael felt her heartbeat rise as the situation suddenly frightened her. She flinched when the man dropped the vase out of fright, listening to the crash and clatter of the fragile glass. She felt her stomach knot at the sound. Zalek would want her to clean it up as soon as possible, which meant that she would have to be around him when he was worked up. She never knew what to expect from him after he had treated other humans this way. Mostly he was collected, but predicting his attitudes and decisions was impossible. Hael shut the door as quietly as she could, resting her head against the wall next to it as she tried to calm her racing heart. She heard the grunts of the men outside, making her cringe in sympathy. She could only wait for Zalek to finish and carry them away to his private room. The grunts soon subsided, slowly turning into groans of pain. She let out a small breath of relief, glad that Zalek had finished teaching them some obedience. She pressed her back to the wall, hoping Zalek would send Srix or Dagon to fetch her after he was in his room with the prisoners. She took slow, deep breaths to calm herself down as she heard Dagon and Srix take them away. "Hael, come here, please," Zalek said, causing her to tense lightly. She swallowed and fixed her hair and dress, taking one last deep breath before she turned to the door. She slowly released the breath before opening the door. She stepped out of the room, walking quietly over to Zalek. "Yes, Sir?" Hael asked, glancing at the mess the man had made. She hoped this would be done quickly to spare her of any more nervousness.</s>
<\|description\|>Voltrex Age: 19 Appearance: Race: Human Gender: Male Occupation: Chaos Member Location: West End Brief History: Mother was a slave before she escaped after meeting the love of her pathetic life. They move to the slums and attempted to lie low. Lying low worked well until Voltrex's father met a member of chaos. Working with chaos he was a very active member. Being too active lead to their demise. A two year old Voltrex was given to a member of chaos to prevent total enslavement. Voltrex's were killed: his father was charged with a form of high treason and his wife was his accomplice. Voltrex grew up in chaos, learning firsthand the evils of the elders. Through his youth he was loyal to the group and worked his way towards the Innercircle wanting to avenge his parents death and prevent others. Other: He has the ability to control partial electrical currents.But he has to be near a source .</s> <\|message\|>Hael Ecos Sun poured into the modern wing of the Elder's home as Hael pushed the curtains back from the almost floor to ceiling windows in the main room of Zalek's wing. "He always keeps it so dark in here," she muttered, preferring the warm light over the unnatural artificial light within the wing. She stood back with a smile and surveyed the bright room. With a satisfied nod, Hael moved to the closet under the stairs, pulling out her cleaning supplies. It was going to be another long day of dusting, vacuuming, mopping, and running errands for Zalek. She had already washed the dishes from the large breakfast Dagon and Srix had asked for. By the time they had left, she was up to her elbows in dishes and soap, scrubbing away at their dirty plates. The appetites of those two hardly awed her in the past few years. At around age 10 she had finally been deemed old enough to complete some of the more serious duties, like serving food to Zalek's men. On her first day she couldn't help but stare at the large men as they ate. Eight years later, she tried to busy herself with thinking of the poetry she had learned from Zalek's library. On most days, the two men barely spoke as they ate, but it wasn't always such a bore. Every now and then they would discuss news from the outside world. Hael always listened intently, although she never let them catch on. The politics and rising rebellions intrigued Hael more than she would admit. She could only hope that none of them had caught on to her eavesdroppings. Hael hummed quietly as she dusted off each room but Zalek's private room. It was the only one in the wing she wasn't allowed to enter. The ban from the room only made her even more curious about what secrets lay inside. She had only gotten peeks at the room over her time here, but none of them ever lasted longer than a second. Hael sighed softly as she finished dusting, moving on to vacuum. Afterwards, she mopped the hard floors in the wing. By the time she had finished, she expected Zalek and the other two back for lunch. She sat down with a sigh of relief, pushing her hair back from her face. Although she had been doing the same thing for years, she'd never gotten used to it. Perhaps she needed to slow down and relax instead of finishing early. The only reason she worked so hard was so she could have the time between lunch and dinner to read. Or perhaps it was her late nights outside in the city that made her so exhausted the next morning. Either way, she didn't have any other time to relax but at night and after her chores were done. After a few moments of rest, Hael stood and returned the cleaning supplies to the closet. She could only hope that something interesting had happened on Zalek's trip to the slums. Otherwise, she was sure that today would be slow and boring. As she waited for Zalek to return, she watered the plants in his wing.</s> <\|message\|>Quick Fang "Milo Cash" Quick Fang, or better known as his adopted name Milo Cash sat reminiscing on old memories, but unlike most this sitting wasn't sitting. It was more hanging upside down shirtless, off of the balcony about 127 floors off the ground well above the highway below enjoying the view and danger as one slip led to certain doom. In the old days dangling like this was common but normally it wasn't as high and was just thugs holding you up instead of a metal bar meant to keep you from falling. (This specific tower Milo liked due to it bringing back older style instead of ever updating looks of future it brought it back to simpler 2010's styles) "Guess since im reminiscing so much might as well go see what's up in the old neighborhood, maybe I'll see Nimble Tongue [one of the few other tibbits Milo ever met as they aren rare but are aldo considered low like humans but with more privileges.] That'd be an interesting time," he said as he started pulling himself up into his apartment. "Track system on, play current," Milo mever stopped listening to music especially music of early 2000's. "Track start:artist:Blink 182:currentsong:Adam's Song" the machine said in a sweet female voice causing Milo to just sigh. He was lonely at this point, a famous Tibbit who fought his way to stardom and yet, here he is alone with no one by his side. "I'll go down to the slums that's a good idea," he thought as he called his manager. "Yo man, I ain't exactly thinking I can cool it today. I'm gonna go down to the slums for a bit. I'll hit you once I'm back" "What!? You can't go down there the-- click" "Thanks big man" And with that Milo was on his way, off to the slums to see his old life. Arriving there he quickly became a sleek gray cat, with black front paws.</s> <\|message\|>Zalek "Bring them both Dagon, Srix get them in here." Zalek was subtle as he entered into his private wing, his two bodyguards were in tow the rebels from Chaos fully awake now and they were none too happy screaming and making a huge fuss. Zalek had decided that the interrogation wing was a waste of time, no he captured these two fools and he would be the one to interrogate them, after all he was the one overseer of interrogation anyways. It was one of his soul purposes to get information, a job he was extremely good at given his time as Master of Discipline back on his home planet. As The door closed behind them the men continued to scream profanity at all of them as their attempts to struggle were meant with strong painful grips from Dagon and Srix. "Drop them both, let them go." Zalek was silent as he crossed his arms and watched the two Chaos rebels drop to the ground, they both quickly gained their feet as they backed away from them, just like most cornered animals did. Zalek silently removed his hood as he gave it to Dagon who took it and stood nearby silently with Srix. Zalek moved forward as he approached the two rebels who had no place to go now. "Get back!!" One of the men yelled loudly as they quickly grabbed a near by vase dumping the contents on the floor and brandishing it in their hands as a weapon. Zalek shook his head at the man as he did not appreciate the mess he had just made, even these fools must realize that they were not going to escape. "Srix grab him will you." Srix nodded as he move forward to collect the man however the man screamed at Zalek making him put his hand up stopping Srix. "Yeah that's right have your flunkies subdue us, you Elders are weak can't even do your own dirty work. You gotta get others to get their hands dirty because you think your so much better then us! Your just wannabe figure heads that's why your gonna fall to Chaos!" Zalek was silent as he looked at the man with emotionless eye's, moving his fingers he motioned for Srix to fall back as he lowered his hand and reached down, unzipping his black jacket he silently removed it from his body revealing the emaciated looking ribs beneath, the old body he had assumed when he captured them. Giving the jacket to Dagon he walked forward as he stood in front of the two rebels. Slowing putting his arms out his body began to bubble almost as if was coming to a full boil, his body began to almost instantly change, the hair on his head slowly receded back in as his facial features changed at the same time, closing his eye's his arms and chest started to bulge out with muscle as the emaciated old man slowly transformed into a muscular male who looked about fifty. As the features finished taking place his head sprouted super short dark hair as his chin grew dark hair. His entire body changed before the two rebels who stood in horror and shock, Zalek slowly opened his eye's as they were a deep shade of red, his eye's were now fierce and bone chilling as he glared at the two rebels the old weak looking man now replaced by his true appearance. "What the hell! He just changed his appearance!" Zalek lowered his arms as the rebels began to freak out from his transformation, however he had heard enough of their words, at a neck break speed his crossed the room in seconds as he grabbed the man with the vase and gripped him by the throat and picked him up then slammed him into the ground with a loud thud. "Holy shit!" The other man screamed in pure fear he tried to turned and hightail it in the opposite direction but Zalek crossed the distance to him in mere seconds as he grabbed him by the back of the neck with a bowl sized hand. Squeezing the man let out a yelp as Zalek picked him up off his feet. Turning his tossed the man like a rag doll watching him smack the ground next to his friend. Zalek lowered his hands as he slowly made his way across the room to Dagon, taking his black jacket he slowly put it back on an zipped it back up as he then turned his attention back to the Rebels. Walking to them he slowly knelt down as they were both in obvious pain. "You know I get real tired of you Chaos lackeys and your words of heroics. You fight this battle against us Elders and you give yourself false hope that one day you will win. You merely show your lack of insight, your lack of intelligence. What will you do now that your powerless? What will you do now in the face of adversity? You will give up because your fake reality is crashing down. I have watched many men like you crumble, they cried and begged for their pathetic lives!" Zalek reached down and picked up both men one in each hand and slammed them into the wall behind them at the same time as they both opened their mouths in pain letting out a weak scream. "You don't care who you have to kill to get what you want... your so busy trying to gain a foothold some sort of elevation above the Elders that your forsake everything else. Would it shock you to know that the men and woman who were with me today escorting me in the slums were slaves dressed in disguise? That the lives you took were the lives of the same men and woman your pathetic rebellion is fighting to free and to protect! Of course you wouldn't because all you truly care about is trying to find some kind of freedom in a world that no longer belongs to you! You humans had your chance, and what did you do? You forsaken yourselves and nearly destroyed the entire world with your stupidity. You fight for a freedom you don't deserve, you get angry because we control you like children yet when you had freedom... you killed each other, raped each other, destroyed each other on nothing more then difference in belief." Zalek brought his face close to the two rebels as he tightened his grip on their necks forcing them to open their eye's and look into his own chilling glare. "I watched this world crumble for years, staying in the shadows, watching you destroy your own brothers and sisters. You humans are nothing more then animals who will turn on each other the moment when it suits your purpose. Thats why the Gods decided to enslave you and give us the power to rule over you. Thats why you will never win... thats why you will always be slaves... because you don't deserve anything more!" Zalek turned and threw both of them men to the floor as they slid little ways, both of them started to slowly cry from fear or pain Zalek did not care. "Take them to my private chamber, I will be along shortly to interrogate them." Both Srix and Dagon put their fist to their chest and nodded as they quickly collected the two men and disappeared into the next room. "Hael come here please." Zalek called for his servant as he silently waited for her to arrive.</s>	<\|message\|>Voltrex Voltrex wiped off the blood from his face in disgust as he grumbled to himself. The new recruits that he was supposed to be training were as stubborn as the last recruits they had. He had taken the recruits after their training to a simple raiding mission of a supply truck going to the North End. One recruit decided to take it upon himself as the leader of the mission, but that ended in everyone being killed by the guards of the truck. Voltrex himself barely got out of there alive. He stopped off by his quarters and took a quick shower and changed before heading to Varin's office to report the incident. "Voltrex, how did the mission go?" asked Varin's informant who leaned against the wall sipping a unknown liquid from a mug that looked to have existed long ago. "It could have gone better." Voltrex shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes as well. He didn't want to mention that the recruits had died on the mission. It goes on his record and he'd rather keep that between himself and Varin. "Did anyone die?" the informant asked. "Yes." "How many?" "Classified." Voltrex turned away, ending the conversation as he continued his way to the large double doors of Varins office. He knocked on the office, checking to see if the informant had followed, but the said person was no where to be seen.</s>
<\|description\|>Varin Hains Age: 24 Attire/Appearance: 5' 8" and 155 lbs. He has athletic build. Race: Human Gender: Male Occupation: Leader of Chaos Location: East End A Brief History: Varin's mother and father were slaves until death. His parents managed to smuggle him into the arms of members of the Rebellion after his birth and before their slaughter. Varin grew up a trouble maker. He found it hard not to help anyone who needed it and in certain eyes it could be seen as defiance. He rose up, and took the place of the leader of this Rebellion after the disappearance and possible death of the old Leader.</s> <\|message\|>Hael Ecos Sun poured into the modern wing of the Elder's home as Hael pushed the curtains back from the almost floor to ceiling windows in the main room of Zalek's wing. "He always keeps it so dark in here," she muttered, preferring the warm light over the unnatural artificial light within the wing. She stood back with a smile and surveyed the bright room. With a satisfied nod, Hael moved to the closet under the stairs, pulling out her cleaning supplies. It was going to be another long day of dusting, vacuuming, mopping, and running errands for Zalek. She had already washed the dishes from the large breakfast Dagon and Srix had asked for. By the time they had left, she was up to her elbows in dishes and soap, scrubbing away at their dirty plates. The appetites of those two hardly awed her in the past few years. At around age 10 she had finally been deemed old enough to complete some of the more serious duties, like serving food to Zalek's men. On her first day she couldn't help but stare at the large men as they ate. Eight years later, she tried to busy herself with thinking of the poetry she had learned from Zalek's library. On most days, the two men barely spoke as they ate, but it wasn't always such a bore. Every now and then they would discuss news from the outside world. Hael always listened intently, although she never let them catch on. The politics and rising rebellions intrigued Hael more than she would admit. She could only hope that none of them had caught on to her eavesdroppings. Hael hummed quietly as she dusted off each room but Zalek's private room. It was the only one in the wing she wasn't allowed to enter. The ban from the room only made her even more curious about what secrets lay inside. She had only gotten peeks at the room over her time here, but none of them ever lasted longer than a second. Hael sighed softly as she finished dusting, moving on to vacuum. Afterwards, she mopped the hard floors in the wing. By the time she had finished, she expected Zalek and the other two back for lunch. She sat down with a sigh of relief, pushing her hair back from her face. Although she had been doing the same thing for years, she'd never gotten used to it. Perhaps she needed to slow down and relax instead of finishing early. The only reason she worked so hard was so she could have the time between lunch and dinner to read. Or perhaps it was her late nights outside in the city that made her so exhausted the next morning. Either way, she didn't have any other time to relax but at night and after her chores were done. After a few moments of rest, Hael stood and returned the cleaning supplies to the closet. She could only hope that something interesting had happened on Zalek's trip to the slums. Otherwise, she was sure that today would be slow and boring. As she waited for Zalek to return, she watered the plants in his wing.</s> <\|message\|>Quick Fang "Milo Cash" Quick Fang, or better known as his adopted name Milo Cash sat reminiscing on old memories, but unlike most this sitting wasn't sitting. It was more hanging upside down shirtless, off of the balcony about 127 floors off the ground well above the highway below enjoying the view and danger as one slip led to certain doom. In the old days dangling like this was common but normally it wasn't as high and was just thugs holding you up instead of a metal bar meant to keep you from falling. (This specific tower Milo liked due to it bringing back older style instead of ever updating looks of future it brought it back to simpler 2010's styles) "Guess since im reminiscing so much might as well go see what's up in the old neighborhood, maybe I'll see Nimble Tongue [one of the few other tibbits Milo ever met as they aren rare but are aldo considered low like humans but with more privileges.] That'd be an interesting time," he said as he started pulling himself up into his apartment. "Track system on, play current," Milo mever stopped listening to music especially music of early 2000's. "Track start:artist:Blink 182:currentsong:Adam's Song" the machine said in a sweet female voice causing Milo to just sigh. He was lonely at this point, a famous Tibbit who fought his way to stardom and yet, here he is alone with no one by his side. "I'll go down to the slums that's a good idea," he thought as he called his manager. "Yo man, I ain't exactly thinking I can cool it today. I'm gonna go down to the slums for a bit. I'll hit you once I'm back" "What!? You can't go down there the-- click" "Thanks big man" And with that Milo was on his way, off to the slums to see his old life. Arriving there he quickly became a sleek gray cat, with black front paws.</s> <\|message\|>Zalek "Bring them both Dagon, Srix get them in here." Zalek was subtle as he entered into his private wing, his two bodyguards were in tow the rebels from Chaos fully awake now and they were none too happy screaming and making a huge fuss. Zalek had decided that the interrogation wing was a waste of time, no he captured these two fools and he would be the one to interrogate them, after all he was the one overseer of interrogation anyways. It was one of his soul purposes to get information, a job he was extremely good at given his time as Master of Discipline back on his home planet. As The door closed behind them the men continued to scream profanity at all of them as their attempts to struggle were meant with strong painful grips from Dagon and Srix. "Drop them both, let them go." Zalek was silent as he crossed his arms and watched the two Chaos rebels drop to the ground, they both quickly gained their feet as they backed away from them, just like most cornered animals did. Zalek silently removed his hood as he gave it to Dagon who took it and stood nearby silently with Srix. Zalek moved forward as he approached the two rebels who had no place to go now. "Get back!!" One of the men yelled loudly as they quickly grabbed a near by vase dumping the contents on the floor and brandishing it in their hands as a weapon. Zalek shook his head at the man as he did not appreciate the mess he had just made, even these fools must realize that they were not going to escape. "Srix grab him will you." Srix nodded as he move forward to collect the man however the man screamed at Zalek making him put his hand up stopping Srix. "Yeah that's right have your flunkies subdue us, you Elders are weak can't even do your own dirty work. You gotta get others to get their hands dirty because you think your so much better then us! Your just wannabe figure heads that's why your gonna fall to Chaos!" Zalek was silent as he looked at the man with emotionless eye's, moving his fingers he motioned for Srix to fall back as he lowered his hand and reached down, unzipping his black jacket he silently removed it from his body revealing the emaciated looking ribs beneath, the old body he had assumed when he captured them. Giving the jacket to Dagon he walked forward as he stood in front of the two rebels. Slowing putting his arms out his body began to bubble almost as if was coming to a full boil, his body began to almost instantly change, the hair on his head slowly receded back in as his facial features changed at the same time, closing his eye's his arms and chest started to bulge out with muscle as the emaciated old man slowly transformed into a muscular male who looked about fifty. As the features finished taking place his head sprouted super short dark hair as his chin grew dark hair. His entire body changed before the two rebels who stood in horror and shock, Zalek slowly opened his eye's as they were a deep shade of red, his eye's were now fierce and bone chilling as he glared at the two rebels the old weak looking man now replaced by his true appearance. "What the hell! He just changed his appearance!" Zalek lowered his arms as the rebels began to freak out from his transformation, however he had heard enough of their words, at a neck break speed his crossed the room in seconds as he grabbed the man with the vase and gripped him by the throat and picked him up then slammed him into the ground with a loud thud. "Holy shit!" The other man screamed in pure fear he tried to turned and hightail it in the opposite direction but Zalek crossed the distance to him in mere seconds as he grabbed him by the back of the neck with a bowl sized hand. Squeezing the man let out a yelp as Zalek picked him up off his feet. Turning his tossed the man like a rag doll watching him smack the ground next to his friend. Zalek lowered his hands as he slowly made his way across the room to Dagon, taking his black jacket he slowly put it back on an zipped it back up as he then turned his attention back to the Rebels. Walking to them he slowly knelt down as they were both in obvious pain. "You know I get real tired of you Chaos lackeys and your words of heroics. You fight this battle against us Elders and you give yourself false hope that one day you will win. You merely show your lack of insight, your lack of intelligence. What will you do now that your powerless? What will you do now in the face of adversity? You will give up because your fake reality is crashing down. I have watched many men like you crumble, they cried and begged for their pathetic lives!" Zalek reached down and picked up both men one in each hand and slammed them into the wall behind them at the same time as they both opened their mouths in pain letting out a weak scream. "You don't care who you have to kill to get what you want... your so busy trying to gain a foothold some sort of elevation above the Elders that your forsake everything else. Would it shock you to know that the men and woman who were with me today escorting me in the slums were slaves dressed in disguise? That the lives you took were the lives of the same men and woman your pathetic rebellion is fighting to free and to protect! Of course you wouldn't because all you truly care about is trying to find some kind of freedom in a world that no longer belongs to you! You humans had your chance, and what did you do? You forsaken yourselves and nearly destroyed the entire world with your stupidity. You fight for a freedom you don't deserve, you get angry because we control you like children yet when you had freedom... you killed each other, raped each other, destroyed each other on nothing more then difference in belief." Zalek brought his face close to the two rebels as he tightened his grip on their necks forcing them to open their eye's and look into his own chilling glare. "I watched this world crumble for years, staying in the shadows, watching you destroy your own brothers and sisters. You humans are nothing more then animals who will turn on each other the moment when it suits your purpose. Thats why the Gods decided to enslave you and give us the power to rule over you. Thats why you will never win... thats why you will always be slaves... because you don't deserve anything more!" Zalek turned and threw both of them men to the floor as they slid little ways, both of them started to slowly cry from fear or pain Zalek did not care. "Take them to my private chamber, I will be along shortly to interrogate them." Both Srix and Dagon put their fist to their chest and nodded as they quickly collected the two men and disappeared into the next room. "Hael come here please." Zalek called for his servant as he silently waited for her to arrive.</s> <\|message\|>Voltrex Voltrex wiped off the blood from his face in disgust as he grumbled to himself. The new recruits that he was supposed to be training were as stubborn as the last recruits they had. He had taken the recruits after their training to a simple raiding mission of a supply truck going to the North End. One recruit decided to take it upon himself as the leader of the mission, but that ended in everyone being killed by the guards of the truck. Voltrex himself barely got out of there alive. He stopped off by his quarters and took a quick shower and changed before heading to Varin's office to report the incident. "Voltrex, how did the mission go?" asked Varin's informant who leaned against the wall sipping a unknown liquid from a mug that looked to have existed long ago. "It could have gone better." Voltrex shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes as well. He didn't want to mention that the recruits had died on the mission. It goes on his record and he'd rather keep that between himself and Varin. "Did anyone die?" the informant asked. "Yes." "How many?" "Classified." Voltrex turned away, ending the conversation as he continued his way to the large double doors of Varins office. He knocked on the office, checking to see if the informant had followed, but the said person was no where to be seen.</s>	<\|message\|>Varin Hains Silence. How Varin hated it. He had just recently slipped under the radar, keeping Chaos from leaping off a building and right into the Elder's arms. Just a few of the members managed to be captured, eventually those numbers would be increased if they didn't act soon. And Varin knew that you can't have a rebellion without rebels. Varin was sitting at a desk, drinking in the dark. He scratched his head as he stared down at a device, he was looking at a blueprint he had managed to collect. It showed every street and building in the North End. He traced his finger lightly on the screen surveying the area before he closed the map and looked at one of Enigma as a whole. He sighed before closing that map and turning the device off and slipping it in his pocket. Varin yawned propping his head against his palm. He stared at his office door waiting in the dark. His head dropped several times before he finally gave in and let it fall, dozing off. Moments later he was brought back sharply by the sound of a loud knock. "Come in," he said straightening and pushing a button on his desk which brought the lights on.</s>
<\|description\|>Press Dalton Alias: Paragon Age: 17 Personality: Kind-hearted and friendly, but he's not exactly a social person. He prefers to spend his time playing video games, working on various gadgets and what-not in his room, or exercising. However, he's still willing to engage in social activities with other people, albeit akwardly. Still a good guy to have with you, though. Powers: Controlling electronic machinery to an extent. He can short circuit them, cause them to function erratically, force them to ignore other outside stimuli, etc. He's also extraordinarily handy when dealing with electronics, and has created himself a robotic suit of armor to allow him to fight on par with his teammates. The suit itself contains a variety of gadgets and weapons. From his palms, he can fire white lasers, which can be fired as a single powerful shot that explodes when striking the target, or a continuous weaker beam that burns the target. On the backs of his hands, he can create energy blades that can slice through solid steel. His helmet contains a targeting system that will aid his accuracy when firing his lasers. On his back, he can construct a pair of wings, which are mostly cosmetic but will allow him to fly. His legs and arms contain shock absorbers that can cushion the impact of a fall should his wings get damaged. His suit is also capable of repairing itself over time, kinda like how a human body would heal its own wounds. However, this ability is limited, and will need external assistance in order to achieve a complete repair. Should the energy levels in his suit get low, it can then drain energy sources (batteries, generators, etc) in order to recharge itself by simply coming into contact. He has also created a bronze-colored robotic falcon named Horus. He is designed for surveillance, though, and isn't that good in a fight. Horus comes equipped with a cloaking feature, 360 degree field of view, and multiple lens filters that allow it to perform its duty. It is also capable of repairing itself over time. Its wings are also covered with solar panels to allow it to regain energy from the sun. Weakness: He only has the durability of a normal human. Bullets, bombs, anything dangerous can injure him, assuming it's powerful enough to get past his suit. He is also completely reliant on his armor and other machinery to be able to fight. Appearance: Bio: Born into a pretty average family, Press lived a rather boring life as a child. Did well in school, made a few friends to hang out with, and other usual things. When he was 6, though, he discovered his talent for electronics and tinkered with them whenever he could. As he got older, he got better and better at assembling and disassembling things, as well as making his own modifications to these devices whenever he could. However, things started to change after hitting his 10th birthday. Press noticed that some things tended to act a little unusual when he was around. Machines with screens (TV's, computers, cell phones, etc) sometimes flickered with static regardless of whether or not they were on or off, cars and motorbikes sometimes refused to start or failed while in the middle of the road, and other odd events. People began to notice that these events happened only around Press, and they started thinking it was strange. Naturally, when people see something they don't understand, they fear it. Even his own parents feared him and quickly abandoned him. Press was lucky, though, and put into an orphanage, but life was still tough. Other kids were tougher and strong than him. What could Press do? Figure out how to operate a VCR? Press knew that he had to grow up, and make sure people knew he wasn't a push over. A few years passed, and Press was actually able to make a decent living fixing broken gadgets and doing other little tasks. He had also discovered by that time that he had an extraordinary ability with electronics, and had learned to control it and harness it. His money accumulated, and Press began looking into certain things. He then acquired some raw materials and started his own personal project. A long period of time later, and Press finally created his robotic suit of armor. Arc Ideas: Not much so far. Perhaps just a few minor skirmishes in the city caused by the mundanes (those without powers) to start off with. Robberies, kidnappings, etc. Buuuuuuut I'm sure you've already thought of this.</s> <\|message\|>Jon Fawn Coast City, March 5,2020, 9:00AM "HEEEEEELP!" "Quiet, lady! Nobody's gonna help you here! You heard the news: Green Lantern is gone!" A thuggish, evil-smelling man in a gray hoodie clutched a purse in his hands. Judging by the screaming woman he was running away from, the purse probably wasn't his. The thug sprinted out the alleyway and rounded the corner before his victim could work up enough courage to chase after him. With fearful hatred in her heart, the woman escaped the alley and searched for the man who robbed her. Fortunately, she didn't have to look very far to find him. Unfortunately, the thug was looming not even a foot away from her, with a dead look in his eyes and a scowl on his face. Fury giving way to fear once again, the woman gasped and hesitated. The thug spoke in a voice that was very clearly not his own. For one, its tenor was a pitch lower. For another, it sounded like it was coming from within the bowels of a tin can. "I am sorry, miss. I've done a terrible thing. Please, take your purse back." The thug shakily reached forward, purse in hand, and presented it to the woman. Fear giving way to fury again again, the woman scowled and punched the thug in the face with a mighty THWACK! The thug didn't even flinch! "Please accept my apologies. Goodbye." At that, the thug sprinted away, kicking up a small cloud of dust. Normally this wouldn't be disconcerting, considering the speed at which he was running. The only suspicious thing was the fact that they were on the sidewalk. The woman stood flabbergasted as the low-hanging cloud of dust seemed to follow the thug's exodus. With a shrug, the woman looped her arm through her purse's string and went on her way, flustered but largely unharmed. That's one mugging gone right! Homefront thought to himself as he forced his thuggish host down 13th Street. I should get this boy a good ways away before I cut him loose. Wouldn't want him causing any more trouble for that lady! Five blocks away, at the picturesque coastside, Homefront decided to relinquish control. The thug scratched his head in bewilderment as consciousness came rushing back to him. He couldn't remember much, only how he'd been robbing some lady and... somehow ended up here. One thing stuck out in his mind, a statement: Robbing people for their money isn't a good way to make money. Go to a trade school or something and learn something marketable. With nothing else to do and a strange feeling that he'd just made a lucky break, the thug decided to call it a day.</s> <\|message\|>Sarah Donner What exactly happened in the last few moments were hard to identify. The weight of the ship suddenly left and in a daze Angel could only briefly make out who it may have been that saved them. But there was no time to think about it. Already she could barely keep aloft. There was no time to make for land, she would have to hope Sarah could handle swimming to shore. Diving down she began to slow when the energy gave out. The image of an angel faded away with the light and left behind a normal girl. Still twenty feet from the waters surface Sarah fell out of control and plunged into the seas. Even though Angel took the brunt of the ordeal she was still exhausted. Suddenly being dumped into the ocean did not help in the slightest. Disoriented by the rolling waves she barely made it to the surface for some air. Gasping and fighting to stay above water the one thing she could really make out was the huge ship on the island. Slowly she made her way in that direction but the current was against her. Growing weary she had to force herself to stay awake. Others, there had been others on the ship. Drawing on what little strength she had she called out for help. Her voice couldn't keep it up long though. This may very well end up as the nightmare she expected since becoming a hero.</s> <\|message\|>(horrific insectoid noises) Coast City General Hospital Timmy sat in the hospital room with his parents, who were finally awake- if barely. Their arms and legs were in casts, and the father was getting a blood transfusion. The nurses had left the TV on for him, and he was watching cartoons when an emergency broadcast went out. A sweeping crime wave in Coast City following the absence of Green Lantern has come to a head, with a mysterious new supervillain calling himself Terrordactyl going on a rampage through the city's residential areas and attacking children. Police artists have constructed the following likeness from eyewitness accounts. If you see Terrordactyl, alert the police immedia- There was a crash as the glass from the room's window broke through, a brick sailing towards the TV and shattering the screen. "THERE'S A P AND MY BEAK IS NOWHERE NEAR THAT STUPID!" Pterrordactyl pushed through the broken window, a paperboy's sack full of bricks at his hip. He tossed a brick up and down, staring at Timmy before looking at his father. "Hey Timmy. How's... things?"</s> <\|message\|>Basoth Geiunt Basoth was confused when all of a sudden his ally disappeared in a flash of light. He was in no condition to fight themm all on his own and so he ran, he understood how cowardly it was, but he couldn't fight them all on his own. Basoth's next goal was to find an exit to the hell hole of the ship, as it lurched about he became even more lost in the labyrinth that was the alien ship. financial the ship stopped lurching he felt that he was on solid ground again. he had will power again.he ran as fast as he could to the sound of a woman's voice. he reached the air lock and looked out into the water. A girl was there, half swimming, half drowning. Basoth knew he had to do something, but he couldn't go near the water. He jumped out of the ship and turned into his Rc Helicopter and flew after her. "Do not be alarmed. Human, help will arrive as soon as possible." He flew out to the nearest patrolling news helicopter and changed back into normal form making the helicopter to lurch slightly to the left. "Please humans, there is someone in peril you need to fly you contraption to her." he said pointing at her whereabouts. The pilot looked slightly shocked, but still nodded as the helicopter changed course flying as low to the water as they could. Basoth reached out his hand and said: "Human, Please take my hand."</s> <\|message\|>Sarah Donner There was a reason when rescuers used helicopters they hovered well above the surface and lowered a basket down. The first was that it was hard to fly that low and remain stable, putting everyone at risk. The other was the props generated so much force that it pushed people away or under. Such was the case here as Sarah slipped out of view. Several feet away she came back up again. Only now she was floating on her back and didn't appear to be conscious any longer.</s> <\|message\|>Basoth Geiunt "Grables!" Basoth exclaimed as he human's body rose to the surface, he didn't have time to check the vitals he needed a quick solution. "Thank you for your help humans. You will no longer be of assistance." He jumped out and formed back into the small RC helicopter. in proximity was a small boat Power boat. landing on it he said: "Human I am sorry to make nuisance of my self, i am new here, I need you to save someone. They are stranded in the water." The person turned around somewhat shocked by what he'd just seen but just nodded along. He turned around with shock and headed in the direction of the unconscious Human. the boat slowed down making sure not to make any ripples, Both Basoth and the human helped lift her out the water.putting her in the back of the boat. the driver of the vessel looked at him "what next?" asked the driver "I don't know,How do you humans respire?" The driver looked dumbfounded "just drive to the land, there should be Medical engineers there, yes?" The human nodded and left towards the land where the others were he picked up the unconscious human and jumped on the land, "Humans, Please, this one needs medical attention"</s>	<\|message\|>Press Dalton As Horus flew towards Press, a blue blur shot past it. Horus paid it no mind; it was irrelevant compared to its main goal. Meanwhile, Press was still on the ground, waiting for the last few seconds of repair time on his wings to run out, when a little icon flashed on his visor, signaling the arrival of his trusty automaton falcon Horus. Press raised his forearm, and Horus used it as its perch, landing on his arm before climbing up to Press' shoulder. "What do you have for me, Horus?" Press asked. Horus responded by downloading the video and other information it had obtained while on the mothership. The alien leader was clearly marked, and Press knew that such a being would not be defeated easily. The others that had been fighting on the ship were doing what they could, but it wasn't much. Then the odd blue "hero" caught his attention. Pausing the video playing on his visor, he saw this blue and red blur shoot across the sky, saying the ship from a terrible crash and preventing a massive loss of lives. Was that... Superman? He was too fast to get a proper look at, but... Where had he been this entire time? Especially with all these aliens around? And what was going on? Setting aside the questions for later, Press constructed his wings. They weren't at optimal performance, but they would get the job done. "Save the civilians, everyone!" Press said to the others. Shooting off towards the mothership, he used the information of the ship's layout to determine where the prison cells in the ship were. Press knew there were civilians who had not been very fortunate, and someone had to free them.</s>
<\|description\|>Royal Rat King, Scragglefur Age: Scragglefur is a stunning 17 years old. Rats don't usually live that long. Personality: Scragglefur is a very kind and benevolent rat, showing sympathy and caring all too deeply about his smaller rat brethren. He is friendly and helpful to his rat brethren; however, these qualities extend only to rats. As the Royal Rat King, Scragglefur is prideful and willing to do anything it takes to lead his "people" to their "rightful place". Anything he does is for the rats within his care and across the globe. He looks down upon people (despite being physically shorter than most) and tends to treat them like most people would treat rats; as vermin. He also happens to view mice as blights and vile little creatures, along with most non-rat rodents. Aside from this, those that grow close to Scragglefur will find that he is still in tune with his primal instincts, even eating scraps of food from the trashcan. While he views people as vermin, he still tolerates them and will even have a lively conversation with someone. He also claims to be very intelligent, though this is because he is comparing himself to other rats. If you gave him a book (or any piece of paper really) he would eat it. Scragglefur also has a fragile psyche and is easily defeated in a battle of wit. If he were to sit down and play chess without trying to eat the pieces or board, one would find that he is the type of player to wipe his hand across the playing field and knock off all the pieces upon losing. Powers: Scragglefur's powers revolve around rats and his uncanny ability to understand and be understood by them (because he's a giant rat). Whilst he can't summon them from thin air, or call them from miles away, Scragglefur is known as the Royal Rat King for a reason. The rats lucky enough to cross his path have taken to calling him a noble and just leader of the rats and as such, they follow him unto glory. Really all this means is that Scragglefur has an army of rats at his disposal and can befriend more rats to increase his numbers. They also do other things like help him scrounge for food. Other than that, Scragglefur just has natural rat-like abilities. He can chew through wood with ease, be a general nuisance, occasionally spread pestilence, and much more. As a rat, he's light on his feet and can be sneaky, but usually isn't. He's quick and agile. He also tends to fight dirty. Scragglefur also has a great sense of taste and smell, as well as clawed hands and feet. Weakness: Scragglefur is very attached to his rat friends and will be emotionally distraught when one is harmed. Despite this, Scragglefur's greatest undoing is his pride. He believes himself to be a sort of messiah to the Rats and believes that he will lead them to their "rightful place". As such, he places too much faith in his rats and often finds that they are, in fact, not as strong an army as he would like to believe. There is also the fact that, on their own, rats aren't able to outsmart many people. Disabling Scragglefur would disable his entire horde and cause them to flee. Scragglefur also hates being outsmarted despite it being a blatantly easy task to do so. Giving him a riddle and asking him to solve it will usually result in him trying to attack you, to save himself the embarrassment of being outsmarted. He also has a phobia of mazes and labyrinths of any sort. While Scragglefur has a great sense of smell and taste, his eyesight is severely limited when in places that are bright. He isn't very strong either and the quality of the weapons he uses is laughable at best. They're mostly for show anyways. He also happens to be a coward and it's not unheard of for him to flee from a fight. Appearance: Scragglefur stands at a tall (for a rat) four feet and eight inches and wields a shoddily crafted whip and even more shoddily crafted dagger. They're really for show, so he can look try to look intimidating. His outfit was sewn by him some time in the past and he's taken to slowly adding to it every once in a while. He has old and worn bandages that he uses as both binding and to cover old wounds. He's added on bits of scrap metal to his robe for a little more protection than just cloth on skin. He also has a hood that he can put on, for when he's not crawling around in the sewers. Bio: The origins of Royal Rat King Scragglefur start in a lab, when his royal majesty was still but a humble lab rat and his life was simple and with little purpose. Run the maze, get the cheese. Life was simple, but soon the human scum reached down and put his filthy hands on his royal majesty. In an act of rebellion, his royal highness bit into the hands that held him. Drawing the vermin's blood, the Royal Rat King Scragglefur was moved into isolation for his rebellion. It was here that they moved onto cruel tests, poking and prodding him with needles until they were certain our lord was "free from disease". Then, they moved onto the other vile practices. His Royal Highness Scragglefur was turned into nothing short of a monster. Filled to the brim with inhumane treatments and prototype poisons, they only served to make him strong. It was when they introduced him to "it", that he became something more. It was a subtle change at first, he could feel himself growing. Maybe it was an accident, but they studied him more. It was maddening. From his special prison, he was able to see his brethren persecuted at the hands of man. Their lives had little meaning, no purpose, and no motivation. It simply began and ended in the blink of an eye, all except for his. As the years wore on, he grew bigger and bigger. But freedom was never in sight. In fact, very few things were in sight thanks to the maddeningly bright white light. But the men he could see were slowly getting smaller than they used to be. Or maybe it was just that he was growing bigger? It was all very maddening and it left a scar on Royal Rat King Scragglefur's already fragile psyche. Whether through luck or intervention by an outside force, an emergency in the lab saw His Royal Highness Scragglefur and his loyal subjects escaping from the clutches of the vermin known as man. They fled to the sewers of Jump City, easily becoming accustomed to the comforting environment and even building a sort of shanty-town out of junk. But Royal Rat King Scragglefur has better plans for his rats, to lead them out of hiding in the sewers and instead to paradise. Run the maze, get the cheese. This time, however, cheese is interchangeable with "Rat Equality". Arc Ideas: "Exodus" Royal Rat King Scragglefur would attempt to lead his rats from the poverty of the sewers and into Jump City. Probably into a hotel or something, it'd be more of a nuisance than anything, really. "Equality" Scragglefur would spend a while just trying to rally up support for a petition to give Rats the same rights as first-class citizens. There'd be paperwork and everything. Really this one would involve people asking him politely to leave and him ranting about how his voice would be heard or something. Of course, people don't usually take kindly to giant talking rats. "Equality II" Scragglefur would somehow successfully lead an assault on the lab he was born in and try to take it over, so that he could "enlighten" his rat brethren and turn them into things like him. Other: A few things. Firstly, I don't think I stated this anywhere else, but whatever side will benefit his army of rats is the side he'll fight for, even if that means switching sides… multiple times. Secondly, if there's anything I need to change, I'd be glad to do so. Thirdly, Titans Forever</s> <\|message\|>Press Dalton When Press turned around, he was faced with the sight of lightning boy already caught up to him and ready to deliver another blow. There was no longer any time to avoid the blow; all he could do was strike back before he was hit. Press fired his explosive lasers directly at Bolt the moment Bolt launched his electro ball. The projectiles passed each other and headed straight for their targets. As the electro ball neared Press, however, the ball was then absorbed into his hands. At first, Press was confused as to why that happened. Then he noticed the battery level went up slightly, and remembered his suit's ability to absorb power from other sources when its own power supply went below a certain amount. With all the flying and shooting he'd done today, no wonder the battery level had gone down so much. Glad for that stroke of luck, he readied himself for whatever came next, but then realized that the way he had absorbed power had damaged his palms. It may take a few moments for his suit to repair itself before he could fire lasers again. Well, at least Press knew what he had to do once the battle was over: upgrade his suit. At least, assuming he lived.</s> <\|message\|>Bellona Thank you, Motherbox. It was a brief thought, and one directed at the device hooked to her side. Bellona was uncertain to the extent of the Box's sentience, but if they could appreciate, she wanted it to do just that. Would not want a self-aware piece of supertechnology being unhappy with her after all. She placed her hands behind her back trying her best to replicate the many poses she had seen her once-grand-leader take. It almost came naturally to her, but after a few moments she realised how...off it felt, to present herself in such a regal manner akin to his own. Taking a few steps towards the trident wielding alien, she spoke. "I had the unfortunate experience of having your soldiers aim their weapons at me when I landed. Not a good start to relations with Lord Darkseid, if I do say so myself." It left a sour taste in her mouth, but it was better than charging into a fight with an enemy she did not know. If she could extract some information from them then dissuade them to leave with word alone, then she would attempt it - and right now bluffing about her own relations with her people seemed to be the way. "However, all can be forgiven so long as you explain your reasoning for attacking..." the pause was unnoticeable, but long enough for her to consult the Motherbox. Where are we? ...Earth? I know of this place. Not a good place to be, Orion of New Genesis had taken liking to this place, as well as my own people. Better than where I was before, none the less. Communing with the device was one-sided, as it did not communicate in a 'language' as such, instead simply directly giving information and cutting out the middle man. She continued, her pause to slight it was almost unnoticeable. "Earth. Our Lord has taken interest in this world, after all." She spared a glance of her glowing eyes to Hot Socks, but nothing more. He did not appear to be affiliated with the invaders, nor did he appear to be a risk to her current 'role', unless he was a lie detector of some sort. Any more attention to him would break the act.</s>	<\|message\|>Royal Rat King, Scragglefur "The Great Food Heist" was, so far, less than successful. All that Scragglefur and his band of rats had been able to "secure" so far, had come from some fast food joint that Scragglefur didn't really care for. It was underwhelming, really. On top of the hostile vermin that didn't smell like humans, there were also other things running rampant today. It took great amounts of caution and care to sneak from point A to point B without drawing any unwanted attention, so things were going all too slow. It was better than being careless and reckless; he'd lose good rats that way. He cared more for his brethren than he did himself, so, as he sat in the back of this terrible burger joint, he considered heading back to the sewers and quitting while he was ahead. They'd be set for months if he played it safe and went back now, but then they'd have to come out and be even more careful next time around. Sure, the streets were chaotic and filled with things that Scragglefur could only assume were fighting, but rats are scavengers. They excel at scavenging and what better time to scavenge then when there is little risk of being hit with a broom, or getting a tail stuck in a rat trap, or consuming rat poison? Of course, they'd have to be quick and quiet to avoid being shot at or trampled. It was a very hard decision, safety long-term for risk now, or risk later for safety now. In the end, it was his brethren that made the decision for him. They squeaked in anticipation, wondering where it was they would head next. Fried chicken. That's what Scragglefur decided on. They would head to the place that fried chicken. He didn't know the name, mostly because he couldn't read, but he did know where it was, which was actually just across the street. Sneakily, they ran to the restaurant, trying their best to avoid being seen. Scragglefur himself had to try extra hard to conceal his large-for-a-rat-small-for-a-person stature, but he thought he managed to do it. Of course, that was mostly his pride talking. It was actually rather easy to spot him if you were looking anywhere in his general direction, but he wasn't intimidating enough to warrant any sort of aggressive response. Maybe an investigative response, but who knows? Scragglefur didn't care, he had one goal at present: Gather food for his people, er, rats. Panic sure was a great thing. People fled from buildings and left them wide open to Scragglefur and his hoard of rats. This was no exception, but then again, maybe it was just a slow day and someone decided to leave early. Whatever the case was, Scragglefur had a grand time digging through the back of the restaurant, even shoving a few pieces of fried chicken into his mouth. It'd be embarrassing if someone walked in on this, but he didn't think that far ahead. Between the terrible burgers and the delicious fried chicken, the horde of rats couldn't carry much more. So he gave the order and told them to return their loot to their sanctuary. As he squeaked this through a full mouth, he decided he'd stay and keep eating fried chicken until they got back.</s>
<\|description\|>Royal Rat King, Scragglefur Age: Scragglefur is a stunning 17 years old. Rats don't usually live that long. Personality: Scragglefur is a very kind and benevolent rat, showing sympathy and caring all too deeply about his smaller rat brethren. He is friendly and helpful to his rat brethren; however, these qualities extend only to rats. As the Royal Rat King, Scragglefur is prideful and willing to do anything it takes to lead his "people" to their "rightful place". Anything he does is for the rats within his care and across the globe. He looks down upon people (despite being physically shorter than most) and tends to treat them like most people would treat rats; as vermin. He also happens to view mice as blights and vile little creatures, along with most non-rat rodents. Aside from this, those that grow close to Scragglefur will find that he is still in tune with his primal instincts, even eating scraps of food from the trashcan. While he views people as vermin, he still tolerates them and will even have a lively conversation with someone. He also claims to be very intelligent, though this is because he is comparing himself to other rats. If you gave him a book (or any piece of paper really) he would eat it. Scragglefur also has a fragile psyche and is easily defeated in a battle of wit. If he were to sit down and play chess without trying to eat the pieces or board, one would find that he is the type of player to wipe his hand across the playing field and knock off all the pieces upon losing. Powers: Scragglefur's powers revolve around rats and his uncanny ability to understand and be understood by them (because he's a giant rat). Whilst he can't summon them from thin air, or call them from miles away, Scragglefur is known as the Royal Rat King for a reason. The rats lucky enough to cross his path have taken to calling him a noble and just leader of the rats and as such, they follow him unto glory. Really all this means is that Scragglefur has an army of rats at his disposal and can befriend more rats to increase his numbers. They also do other things like help him scrounge for food. Other than that, Scragglefur just has natural rat-like abilities. He can chew through wood with ease, be a general nuisance, occasionally spread pestilence, and much more. As a rat, he's light on his feet and can be sneaky, but usually isn't. He's quick and agile. He also tends to fight dirty. Scragglefur also has a great sense of taste and smell, as well as clawed hands and feet. Weakness: Scragglefur is very attached to his rat friends and will be emotionally distraught when one is harmed. Despite this, Scragglefur's greatest undoing is his pride. He believes himself to be a sort of messiah to the Rats and believes that he will lead them to their "rightful place". As such, he places too much faith in his rats and often finds that they are, in fact, not as strong an army as he would like to believe. There is also the fact that, on their own, rats aren't able to outsmart many people. Disabling Scragglefur would disable his entire horde and cause them to flee. Scragglefur also hates being outsmarted despite it being a blatantly easy task to do so. Giving him a riddle and asking him to solve it will usually result in him trying to attack you, to save himself the embarrassment of being outsmarted. He also has a phobia of mazes and labyrinths of any sort. While Scragglefur has a great sense of smell and taste, his eyesight is severely limited when in places that are bright. He isn't very strong either and the quality of the weapons he uses is laughable at best. They're mostly for show anyways. He also happens to be a coward and it's not unheard of for him to flee from a fight. Appearance: Scragglefur stands at a tall (for a rat) four feet and eight inches and wields a shoddily crafted whip and even more shoddily crafted dagger. They're really for show, so he can look try to look intimidating. His outfit was sewn by him some time in the past and he's taken to slowly adding to it every once in a while. He has old and worn bandages that he uses as both binding and to cover old wounds. He's added on bits of scrap metal to his robe for a little more protection than just cloth on skin. He also has a hood that he can put on, for when he's not crawling around in the sewers. Bio: The origins of Royal Rat King Scragglefur start in a lab, when his royal majesty was still but a humble lab rat and his life was simple and with little purpose. Run the maze, get the cheese. Life was simple, but soon the human scum reached down and put his filthy hands on his royal majesty. In an act of rebellion, his royal highness bit into the hands that held him. Drawing the vermin's blood, the Royal Rat King Scragglefur was moved into isolation for his rebellion. It was here that they moved onto cruel tests, poking and prodding him with needles until they were certain our lord was "free from disease". Then, they moved onto the other vile practices. His Royal Highness Scragglefur was turned into nothing short of a monster. Filled to the brim with inhumane treatments and prototype poisons, they only served to make him strong. It was when they introduced him to "it", that he became something more. It was a subtle change at first, he could feel himself growing. Maybe it was an accident, but they studied him more. It was maddening. From his special prison, he was able to see his brethren persecuted at the hands of man. Their lives had little meaning, no purpose, and no motivation. It simply began and ended in the blink of an eye, all except for his. As the years wore on, he grew bigger and bigger. But freedom was never in sight. In fact, very few things were in sight thanks to the maddeningly bright white light. But the men he could see were slowly getting smaller than they used to be. Or maybe it was just that he was growing bigger? It was all very maddening and it left a scar on Royal Rat King Scragglefur's already fragile psyche. Whether through luck or intervention by an outside force, an emergency in the lab saw His Royal Highness Scragglefur and his loyal subjects escaping from the clutches of the vermin known as man. They fled to the sewers of Jump City, easily becoming accustomed to the comforting environment and even building a sort of shanty-town out of junk. But Royal Rat King Scragglefur has better plans for his rats, to lead them out of hiding in the sewers and instead to paradise. Run the maze, get the cheese. This time, however, cheese is interchangeable with "Rat Equality". Arc Ideas: "Exodus" Royal Rat King Scragglefur would attempt to lead his rats from the poverty of the sewers and into Jump City. Probably into a hotel or something, it'd be more of a nuisance than anything, really. "Equality" Scragglefur would spend a while just trying to rally up support for a petition to give Rats the same rights as first-class citizens. There'd be paperwork and everything. Really this one would involve people asking him politely to leave and him ranting about how his voice would be heard or something. Of course, people don't usually take kindly to giant talking rats. "Equality II" Scragglefur would somehow successfully lead an assault on the lab he was born in and try to take it over, so that he could "enlighten" his rat brethren and turn them into things like him. Other: A few things. Firstly, I don't think I stated this anywhere else, but whatever side will benefit his army of rats is the side he'll fight for, even if that means switching sides… multiple times. Secondly, if there's anything I need to change, I'd be glad to do so. Thirdly, Titans Forever</s> <\|message\|>Marilyn (True name unpronounceable with the human tongue) Marilyn shakily made herself get up, groaning and clutching at her chest in discomfort as she went to bite into the next one. The alarms were still blaring loudly, starting to give her inorganic mind a severe headache. The red light flashing was enough to make her go mad. Her teeth rested against the crystal, bracing herself for impact. Then she pulled back. "Wait a minute," She thought aloud as she pulled back, her pupils shrinking. "I'm dumb." She set the crystal down on the floor-gently-instead of eating it. Her strength was returning with her discomforting meal, she found herself able to run again. She started laughing as she shoved crystals off their pedestals left and right, moving much faster than she had been. Faster due to the blood loss, but just as durable, she was getting close to completely discarding the ships power source.</s> <\|message\|>River Corner River swears under her breath, but she notices that one of the computers stands empty. She inches slowly along the side of the wall before completely sprinting for it. She grabs the chair, sliding into it rapidly, and yanks herself up against the desk. As her fingers fly on the keyboard, the aliens begin to come after her. She quickly creates a wall of solid ice, at least a few feet thick, in front of them so they wouldn't be able to get through as easily. All she needs is a few minutes. Moving quickly, though she does not recognize a few of the symbols on the keyboard, but they did match something on the code in her hand, she begins to type in the code for whatever is going on with this code. She keeps looking over at the ice as the aliens pound against it and she freaks out slightly. But when she freaks out, ice shoots from her hands. Ice begins to coat the keyboard in a very thin sheen and her fingers begin to slip and type in wrong letters. She quickly back spaces and heats up the ice, melting it. Keyboard crackles and dies and she swears under her breath again. She quickly moves over to the next computer and starts over. She didn't know who was going to kill her, since the bigger alien offered someone who didn't look too much like this other aliens to kill her, but if she could get this aircraft on the ground or at least take down the fighters, then she would be happy, even if she died. She smiles as her fingers begin to fly faster. She would be with her family again if she died. She could be happy again. She enters the last key to the code in, right as the aliens break through the wall of ice. It crashes down, bu she has already hit the send button. Now, she would just have to sit and wait. The aliens grab her and capture her, yanking her back in front of their leader. She doesn't resist; she just prays that the code does something either to this aircraft or the fighters attacking the city.</s>	<\|message\|>Royal Rat King, Scragglefur As the… well, Scragglefur wasn't exactly sure what they were, but as the other-worldly life-forms hopped through the windows, Scragglefur immediately did what his instincts told him to: he ran as fast as he could through the back door. The rats that weren't already out the door dropped their food as they saw their King rush past them. They already knew exactly what to do, seeing as how they had seen this exact same thing happen before. Sneakily running past something was not an option, so they ran as fast as their little legs would carry them. Scragglefur, being a rather large target, had to take care to not be targeted. A sudden jolt of pain alerted Scragglefur to the fact that he had unsuccessfully made himself an uneasy target. Stopping for a moment, he turned towards the other-worldly entity and let out a hiss before immediately turning back around and running even faster than he had before. This was an unpleasant scenario, but he'd tend to whatever his wounds were at a later time. It must have been rather humorous to watch, a four-foot tall rat running with a handful of normal-sized rats. But humor was not the first thing to come to Scragglefur's mind. Panic was the only thing to come to his mind as he ran as fast as his legs and arms would allow him. Despite being arms, they were still rather adept at fleeing. That was always a good thing. His feet-like hands, however, weren't the greatest for holding thing, but he managed. But that was not what Scragglefur's priority, holding things with his feet-like hands. His priority was simply to run. It was something he excelled at and would continue to excel at. Even though he was old for a rat, his body was at its prime, so he had nothing to worry about when running. It was a short amount of time before Scragglefur was back home in the sewer-shanty-town. A surplus of food that would be eaten at a later time littered the domain, the smell mixing with the natural waste down in the sewers. It was a comforting smell, to Scragglefur and his rats, but right now, Scragglefur could not enjoy it. His freshly minted wound was the result of the other-worldly life-forms training their weapons on him, surely. Or maybe he had just been careless when running. It didn't quite matter, but the more Scragglefur thought about it, the more it seemed that he had just been careless when running. Whatever the case, he was bleeding and growling at himself. Using one of his bandages, taken from his hoard of bandages, he covered the wound after splashing it with some sewer water. Not the healthiest way to go about things, but it calmed the pain. Consequences didn't really find their way into Scragglefur's mind, but infections sure found ways into his body. No matter, he'd just munch on some antibiotics if he had any. Which he didn't.</s>
<\|description\|>Marilyn (True name unpronounceable with the human tongue) Alias: Echo Age: Taalunia Age: 74 Mercuron Passes Earth Age: 17 Personality: While initially very stoic, Marilyn has a tendency to 'Reflect' the personalities of others around her on instinct. This is a given trait with her race and has allowed for their survival when unbidden circumstance came to greet them. She is very observant, settling for listening rather than talking, and not holding back on her customs of honesty when provoked for advice. A quick learner, Marilyn is known for her durability and fast thinking when times get rough--a perk when your head is usually clear of most human distraction. As time goes on, she has the potential to warm up to or to become bitter about her situations, and will find time to express it where others might find it uncharacteristic of previous actions.She is obsessed with the color red. Powers: Hyalokinesis, or put simply, glass control... to an extent. Marilyn is able to transverse/teleport to different areas on Earth using mirrors or large glass windows and to date has yet to show a limit of distance, also able to see through smaller 'windows' (i.e. looking through a compact mirror will result in the possibility of spying on master plans. On the offense, the only 'glass' Marilyn can control is her own organic material--her blood. By making decent sized lacerations on her skin, she can create glass weapons or projectiles to be used to attack those who would strike her. She can also use it free form. Weakness: Due to Marilyn's body literally working with liquid glass pumping all out through her body, she is incredibly heavy for her petite size. Her weight is similar to that of a fully stocked vending machine. Considering she also uses her blood to attack, it's also an issue of fatigue coming in fast and thus weakening her greatly. (On the upside of this fatigue however, her body is lightened by the removal of the heavy blood and her speed is greatly augmented) Appearance: (crappy sketch I did of her in her superhero outfit like ages ago) Marilyn is colorless, her blood gives her no pigment aside from the metallic sheen in her eyes. Most of the clothing she wears has sensible floral patterns and she wears a single chain-circlet with a crimson metal flower upon it. Note the open spots on her forearms on her costume, where she could provide her skin lacerations to create her weapons without being obstructed. The back is more open as well to provide quick defense from an ambush. Bio: In brief, Marilyn comes from a planet known as Taalunia where the people are made up of a variety of metals, stones, and other elements. When her city is overrun by space pirates, she is made into a slave with her best friend Karmina. While she is subjected to a few humiliating tasks, her friend gets the worse end of it and changes completely. Cautiously following her friend's instructions, they are able to escape their situations via escape pod, but are forced into different containers when they are spotted, and thus are separated from one another. Marilyn lands in the middle of New York City's Central park, where she moves quickly to evade the eyes of strangers. Currently she wanders aimlessly, not knowing what to do and hoping to find her friend. Arc Ideas: -Karmina's return Taalunians, specifically more so her species, adore the coveted color red. And what's more red than human blood? -Space Pirates Homing Beacon Marilyn has escaped her imprisonment, but at what cost? Other: Titans Forever Here is her original character sheet I made for her. It has more information about Taalunians and a better, more in depth description of Marilyn, at least I think so. Name: Real name is unpronounceable by Human Tongues, But goes but the name of... Marilyn Age: Taalunia Age: 74 Mercuron Passes Earth Age: 17 Gender: Female [-] Taalunians are Asexual beings that procreate through 'metal letting' but appears to be Female Appearance: Taalunia standards All people on Taalunia, the planet Marilyn resides from, are deprived of color. Their world is a mix of nothing but white, grey, black, and the intense, rare and highly sought out, red. Thus, Marilyn is quite average for a Taalunian, white pure white skin and white hair with clothes just as pale as she. However, there is one single flower piece in her hair that her mother gave her for her birthpassing, in Marilyns favorite color, red. Skills: -Standard Taalunia Defensive training. Intermediate -Standard Taalunia Minor Intergalactic Knowledge -Increased Intelligence capacity than normal humans -Standard Increased Flexibility to sometimes impossible seeming proportions (to Humans) Powers: -Reflective Travelling- Marilyn can travel through mirrors, see what is on the other side, or walk between reflective surfaces. It was a common form of travel on Taalunia and she does it naturally here as well. -Metal letting- All Taalunians 'blood' is nothing but liquid metal. Upon slicing her arm she is able to form blades from this life substance and use it to attack foes, whether its forming blades, metal whips, armor, etc. Too much of this cause weakness from blood loss. Cannot control metal matter outside of what is organic to Taalunia. This is their end all to everything. To make life, they metal let with whom they most adore to create a new Taalunian, and to take life the attack each other with their life fluid. -Eyes of the Otherworld- The ability to see otherworldly beings on different planets is a given from Taalunians as well. When a Taalunian rusts (yes, that is how they grow old and die) their conscious mind has to be delivered to the Otherworld by a living escort. It's not uncommon for family members to escort their dead's consciousness by themselves. Allows for seeing spirits on the human world as well. Personality: Initially, Marilyn appears to be stoic and a complete stick in the mud. However, after time you'd grow to learn that Taalunian emotion is shown, just in a very stiff manner. Over time, she may relax and speak as humans do, but for now, she appears to be tightly wound. She has an obsession for the color red and is drawn to it like a fly is to honey. It's said that it's the only thing that can drive a Taalunian mad, with its fluorescent color and foreign vibrancy unseen to their world until recently. She deeply enjoys the quiet and finds herself being drawn to parks or city streets at night, away from the insanity of the world always buzzing with noise. Taalunians, after all, enjoy their peace and quiet. Backstory: Note: By earth standards she is pretty damn heavy with her veins full of liquid metal. Knocking her back is like trying to tip a soda vending machine.</s> <\|message\|>Nikolai Gregorovich Bolt was out exploring Jump City with eyes full of wonder and amazement at the size of the city. Where he came from, there weren't any cities and now that he was in the city looking for work, Nikolai would take in the sites as much as possible. "Damn this place is huge!" he said in awe as he wandered about the urban area. He soon came upon a bank and decided to rob it. He charged up his body with electricity and burst through the doors. The poeple inside the bank gave screams of shock at the site of him and his incredible powers and bolt just smiled in response. "Lady's and gentlemen if you would kindly get on the ground and don't anything stupid then this will be quick and non-violent" he said to them. The second he finished speaking a security guard took out his gun and aimed it at him and fired. The bullet hit Bolt in the chest, but luckily his costume had a bullet proof vest and only sustained minimal damage. "I thought I specifically said to get on the ground and not do anything stupid. You just made a big mistake sir" Nikolai said to the security guard and he fired off a bolt of powerful electricity. The bolt electrocuted the man and people gave more screams. Bolt just laughed and headed for the bank vault. Once he had finished robbing the bank Nikolai made a quick getaway with his metal surfboard by using electromagnetism. ----- Kobby was sitting in the park of Jump City meditating on the idea of how his destiny would be, but the spirits were vague and said that he would have to figure it out for himself. His journey to the united state was all a part of his journey as a shaman and the spirits told him that the land would be the key to figuring out what his purpose was.</s> <\|message\|>River Corner River rolls her eyes at the oncoming alien hoard rushing at her. "I really did not want to do this," she says, and she draws in the water from around her. Two large water balls appear in her hands and she hurls them toward the oncoming aliens. Upon contact, she makes the water freeze around them, freezing them in place. That took care of about half of them. The other half keeps charging toward her and she pulls an old prank. She wets the ground underneath them and freezes it, turning it into an icy Slip-n-Slide. She jumps out of the way as the aliens slide down the path toward and she gives them an extra shove down the street. She grins and then heats up the water underneath them to a boiling point, so it evaporates immediately. She looks up toward the mothership, thinking back to the movie Independence Day. If we want to take out the whole infantry, we need to take out the controlling source. She looks around and sees a drop ship that looks like it is heading back toward the mothership. She quickly scans the area and notices a building tall enough for her to be able to at least try and jump onto it. She sprints to the building, jumping up to the fire escape, and runs up it to where she is on top of it. She sees the drop ship just ahead of her and she takes a deep breath, moving all the way to the back of the building. She gets a running start, leaps off the building, and shoots a little bit of water behind her to give her an extra boost. She lands with a loud bang on top of the drop ship. She then just needed to ride this back inside to the mothership and hopefully find a weakness that could stop all of the aliens at once.</s> <\|message\|>MC "Bloody hell. Screw this." MC said, lazily dodging the ground fire coming at him while the ship just dispensed more aliens. Getting a mischievous idea in his head, MC opens a couple portal tunnels until he is deep within the ship, easily finding the reactor. Opening another portal, Mc splits up the core into bits using his portals. But instead of causing a big explosion like he thought was going to happen, the ship just lost power and started to fall to the ground, MC portaling out and above the ship. The ship did make a satisfying reverberation as it hit the ground though, so he was a bit happy with that, or so he accepted, and began to look for something else to do. No one was firing at him at this point, having been crushed under one of the ships he grounded.</s> <\|message\|>(horrific insectoid noises) Behind the moon, a large spaceship was double-parked. Aboard the Video Star, faceless goons and production staff shuffled about to get ready for the impending season of the Spandez Conquest Hour, while numerous aliens and monsters auditioned. One, a large mollusc with a muscular arms, was producing copious amounts of sticky goo, holding a number of combat goons in a headlock as it ranted for the camera. "ORESAMA WA... SHIKAKU-SURRUGU! MUTEKI CHIKARI NO SURIMMU! ORESA-" There was a beep as a shadowed figure in a production booth turned on the PA. "Japan season over. Now need Engrish. Good power though. You hired." As the slugman giggled at his acceptance, Spandez sighed. The season would be starting soon... but of COURSE someone else had to invade at the same time. This was so typical. He leaned back in his chair and started drinking his coffee. Badurong could have at least told him if there were other ships in the area. He did probably deserve it after that fiasco with Japan, though. He'd just have to get creative with the contestants' challenges this year. He'd already gotten five, counting... Assassin Slug. Maybe as the season went on he'd get more of the heavy-hitters he was accustomed to.</s> <\|message\|>Press Dalton Press had noticed the amount of people getting abducted decreasing, which certainly made his job easier. Still, he was only one person, and he wasn't able to save everyone. There was one ship that seemed to be heading back to the mothership. Going behind a wall on a rooftop to avoid incoming fire, he was about to instruct Horus to follow it when there was an incoming distress signal from Horus. Another crime was being committed during this whole fiasco. Opening a small window in his visor, he saw someone riding away on a hoverboard, carrying a large bag filled with money. Obviously someone trying to take advantage of the confusion going on. Marking the perpetrator on his minimap, he instructed Horus to follow the ship he noticed earlier while in stealth mode, then flew back up into the sky and aimed his palm at the thief. Switching the setting on his laser and using his auto-aiming feature, he fired a continuous laser, attempting to hit the bag and burn its contents. Whether or not it succeeded, he stopped after the deed was done and turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The aliens on the ground were still shooting, either at him or something else. Constantly moving around to avoid the laser fire, although not always successfully, he pointed his palms down and returned fire, shooting multiple lasers that exploded on impact.</s>	<\|message\|>Marilyn (True name unpronounceable with the human tongue) She had continued to push until she was coming out of the window within the newscasting station. The pale woman looked around, sighted the mothership through the glass, and pulled her head back through to disappear from the scene. Marilyn pulled herself up from the otherwise flat glass in the Drop Ship making way to the Mother Ship, finding herself stepping up in front of a woman that was not so different in appearance from herself. She stared at the white haired girl, unblinking, the erratic winds blustering her leather slave skirt through her legs and causing her own pale hair to be tangled behind her. Strange, she thought, she looks like a human. Almost like a Taalunian. However, since she was preparing to board the mother ship, surely this had to be among the enemy. Marilyns brows furrowed ever so slightly as she took a defensive stance, silent this whole time. Without removing her black and grey gaze, she lifted her left index finger to her mouth and bit down on it gently. When she pulled it back, the other woman would be able to see that the blood flowing was the same color as the chemical mercury. Then the blood hardened... shaping into a tiny blade. When it had formed, the pale alien pressed the small blade to the top of the inside of her own forearm, slashing it down harshly until it reached her wrist. Instantly the mercury-esque substance began flowing out in full. It would almost be grounds to worry about blood loss until Marilyn whipped the bleeding arm downward. From the palm of her hand, a sword had formed. Long enough to brush the ground of the drop ships floor. Solidified, the blood no longer trickled but remained sealed against her arm in a state of limbo. Finally, the colorless woman spoke. "Threat." She began running at the white haired woman.</s>
<\|description\|>Bellona Alias: Gladiator Age: 18 Personality: Having been raised in an environment and culture completely alien from any found on Earth, Gladiator is rather ignorant of the customs and etiquettes of Earth, let alone those of the USA. Her approach to the world and people within is excessively blunt, nor does she pick up on the subtle things (like sarcasm and verbal expressions) very well. In some miracle of the universe, Gladiator is a good person at heart despite her upbringing, but she is still rather insensitive towards others - an issue she will have to work on while on Earth. She's the kind of person who if you said 'something went over your head' to them, they would respond with 'that is impossible, my reactions are too fast, I would catch it'. In line with her blunt view of life she believes in retributive justice, an eye for an eye and so on. Powers: * New God Physiology: A former denizen of Apokolips called a New God, Gladiator is a "being of genetic perfection", whatever that might mean. This translates into her having invulnerability which makes blunt-force attacks ineffective unless dealt by a being of a similar strength level to hers or greater, but this does not extend to energy based attacks. Similarly, slicing/piercing attacks appear to be able to partially bypass this invulnerability. Gladiator's strengh level greatly exceeds that of the strongest human. The upper limits of a New Gods strength can be measured in hundreds of tons (and in one notable case, nearly limitless), but Gladiator is actually on the lower end of the New God strength scale. While she won't be punching out Superman, Orion or Wonder Woman any time soon, she still classifies as a Class 70 (capable of lifting 70 tonnes at least, although she is capable of greater when under duress or in extremely stressful situations). * ???: It is common for New Gods to develop a unique ability or two past what their alien physiology gives them. As Gladiator is still young (incredibly so, by New God standards), she has yet to figure out what that is. Only time and experience will reveal what it is. Weakness: * Radion: All New Gods are inherently weak to this mysterious substance to a lethal extent. If applied as a bullet or bomb, radion can kill a New God in one go. In the case of a bullet it matters not where it hits, as it kills through the rapid and aggressive poisoning. * Magic: Not really a weakness but, as in the case of Superman, she has no defences against the arcane. This is not to be confused with the idea of magic fire being able to harm her more than normal fire, or a magic hammer being able to hit harder against her, but more things like targeted transformation, teleportation, curses, and 'beams'. Natural phenomena recreated by magic will have the same effect as natural phenomena against her. Bio: A New God born of secretive circumstances on Apokolips. Although not an orphan, Bellona found herself placed into the magnanimous and gracious care of Granny Goodness. Her early years were made up of non-stop indoctrination, military training and education. "Die for Darkseid," she was told, "Die for Darkseid" - over and over. Where most broke and became one of the many zealots of Apokolips, Bellona answered the same way each time in her head; "I refuse". She refused to die on anyone's will other than her own. Considered a problem child by Granny Goodness and her other tutors, she was none the less shaping up to be a fine warrior, earning the name 'Gladiator' among the orphanage and lining up to be a potential candidate for the Furies. That was until she escaped. It was difficult, but not impossible. The only other (known) escapee of Granny Goodness' care was Scott Free or 'Mister Miracle' as he is known on Earth. Bellona's own method of escape was very simple, using a little bit of sleight-of-hand (thanks to her training with Kanto) to acquire a rarity off of the body of Granny Goodness - a Motherbox. With its transportation capabilities, her escape to Earth was a breeze...apart from the bit where she ended up opening a Boom Tube miles above Jump City, approaching the ground at a terrifying rate. Her landing is going to create a mess, and it probably won't be her ending up hurt. Arc Ideas: * The Call of Apokolips: Found by her home and with nowhere to go, Gladiator must turn her back on the Titans and even become their enemy, not for her own sake but the sake of those within Jump City and beyond. The grip of Darkseid operates in many ways, and sometimes it is not always willing. * Die for Darkseid: "I am many things, Kal-El. You couldn't even begin to imagine half of them. But for now, I shall take the role of the executioner." An endgame scenario has arisen - Darkseid is attacking Earth. Parademons plague the skies without number, overwhelming any counter-attack, and Darkseid's lieutenants are clear matches for the Heroes of Earth. Darkseid himself, one of the most malicious and powerful entities in the universe, intends to sap the very spirit and will from the people of Earth, the adopted home of his enemy Kal-El, and then make them his mindless pawns. One mind. One Will. One Life that is Darkseid. Other: Her weapon is the Thunderlance, a nigh-unbreakable weapon which appears/returns to her hands if she calls it, making a thundercrack sound as it does so. She is very much trained in its usage. Gladiator fulfils the niche of a team 'Brick' with hints an armsmaster thrown in there. While Apokolips would usually not bat an eye if one of their orphans did manage to leave (Scott Free being an exception due to his circumstances), Darkseid's forces will be looking for the girl for reasons known only to them...and possibly Gladiator. Creation was inspired by Drax the Destroyer and Big Barda. "Titans Forever"</s> <\|message\|>Marilyn (True name unpronounceable with the human tongue) Marilyn shakily made herself get up, groaning and clutching at her chest in discomfort as she went to bite into the next one. The alarms were still blaring loudly, starting to give her inorganic mind a severe headache. The red light flashing was enough to make her go mad. Her teeth rested against the crystal, bracing herself for impact. Then she pulled back. "Wait a minute," She thought aloud as she pulled back, her pupils shrinking. "I'm dumb." She set the crystal down on the floor-gently-instead of eating it. Her strength was returning with her discomforting meal, she found herself able to run again. She started laughing as she shoved crystals off their pedestals left and right, moving much faster than she had been. Faster due to the blood loss, but just as durable, she was getting close to completely discarding the ships power source.</s> <\|message\|>River Corner River swears under her breath, but she notices that one of the computers stands empty. She inches slowly along the side of the wall before completely sprinting for it. She grabs the chair, sliding into it rapidly, and yanks herself up against the desk. As her fingers fly on the keyboard, the aliens begin to come after her. She quickly creates a wall of solid ice, at least a few feet thick, in front of them so they wouldn't be able to get through as easily. All she needs is a few minutes. Moving quickly, though she does not recognize a few of the symbols on the keyboard, but they did match something on the code in her hand, she begins to type in the code for whatever is going on with this code. She keeps looking over at the ice as the aliens pound against it and she freaks out slightly. But when she freaks out, ice shoots from her hands. Ice begins to coat the keyboard in a very thin sheen and her fingers begin to slip and type in wrong letters. She quickly back spaces and heats up the ice, melting it. Keyboard crackles and dies and she swears under her breath again. She quickly moves over to the next computer and starts over. She didn't know who was going to kill her, since the bigger alien offered someone who didn't look too much like this other aliens to kill her, but if she could get this aircraft on the ground or at least take down the fighters, then she would be happy, even if she died. She smiles as her fingers begin to fly faster. She would be with her family again if she died. She could be happy again. She enters the last key to the code in, right as the aliens break through the wall of ice. It crashes down, bu she has already hit the send button. Now, she would just have to sit and wait. The aliens grab her and capture her, yanking her back in front of their leader. She doesn't resist; she just prays that the code does something either to this aircraft or the fighters attacking the city.</s> <\|message\|>Royal Rat King, Scragglefur As the… well, Scragglefur wasn't exactly sure what they were, but as the other-worldly life-forms hopped through the windows, Scragglefur immediately did what his instincts told him to: he ran as fast as he could through the back door. The rats that weren't already out the door dropped their food as they saw their King rush past them. They already knew exactly what to do, seeing as how they had seen this exact same thing happen before. Sneakily running past something was not an option, so they ran as fast as their little legs would carry them. Scragglefur, being a rather large target, had to take care to not be targeted. A sudden jolt of pain alerted Scragglefur to the fact that he had unsuccessfully made himself an uneasy target. Stopping for a moment, he turned towards the other-worldly entity and let out a hiss before immediately turning back around and running even faster than he had before. This was an unpleasant scenario, but he'd tend to whatever his wounds were at a later time. It must have been rather humorous to watch, a four-foot tall rat running with a handful of normal-sized rats. But humor was not the first thing to come to Scragglefur's mind. Panic was the only thing to come to his mind as he ran as fast as his legs and arms would allow him. Despite being arms, they were still rather adept at fleeing. That was always a good thing. His feet-like hands, however, weren't the greatest for holding thing, but he managed. But that was not what Scragglefur's priority, holding things with his feet-like hands. His priority was simply to run. It was something he excelled at and would continue to excel at. Even though he was old for a rat, his body was at its prime, so he had nothing to worry about when running. It was a short amount of time before Scragglefur was back home in the sewer-shanty-town. A surplus of food that would be eaten at a later time littered the domain, the smell mixing with the natural waste down in the sewers. It was a comforting smell, to Scragglefur and his rats, but right now, Scragglefur could not enjoy it. His freshly minted wound was the result of the other-worldly life-forms training their weapons on him, surely. Or maybe he had just been careless when running. It didn't quite matter, but the more Scragglefur thought about it, the more it seemed that he had just been careless when running. Whatever the case, he was bleeding and growling at himself. Using one of his bandages, taken from his hoard of bandages, he covered the wound after splashing it with some sewer water. Not the healthiest way to go about things, but it calmed the pain. Consequences didn't really find their way into Scragglefur's mind, but infections sure found ways into his body. No matter, he'd just munch on some antibiotics if he had any. Which he didn't.</s> <\|message\|>Nikolai Gregorovich Bolt watched as the laser passed by his attack and went straight for him. The laser hit him in the chest and Bolt felt a great amount of pain causing him to give a cry. "OOOOOOOOWWWW! Shit!" he exclaimed out loud and was knocked off of his surfboard. Bolt had been reckless and hadn't focused too well, which was why he had gotten himself in the position to be hit. Nikolai began to plummet towards the water below and he quickly tried to right himself while he was falling so that he could use his powers to get his surfboard back to him. Bolt saw his board falling a little away from him and he stretched out his arm to use his magnetism to pull the surfboard towards him. He was only several feet from the ocean's surface and Bolt began to worry. If he hit the water then his powers would be screwed up, but thankfully he managed to get a hold of his surfboard and pull himself out of the dive by mere inches causing a spray of water to hit him. Even though it was a very small amount Bolt felt his powers spark and fizz for a movement as he managed to get his board back over land. Nikolai decided to hope off of his surfboard and turned to face Press. Bolt grinned and fired off a bolt of electricity straight at Press. ---- Kobby saw his chance and fired off very powerful bolts of spiritual energy. The power he was using was slightly taxing, but he wasn't going to let that stop him from protecting the innocent.</s>	<\|message\|>Bellona With the Leader... "Love? Blood shed? No. We love our leader, and we would do anything in His name, including the act of killing." Even here, she thought to herself with growing frustration, His reach is inescapable. Each footstep towards River was slow, contemplating. Her mind went into overdrive, trying to consider the possible options. Upon viewing an Earth local, she felt no love for them nor any disdain. If anything they were simply 'cute', holding the features of one of her own with not even a tenth of the potential. Adorable indeed. Stopping in front of River and the soldiers which held her, directing her words at the leader still. "Most, at least." It was a brief movement without any warning, both of her fists shooting out simultaneously and slamming against two of the soldiers to either side of River with all the force of a tank. Launched back into the walls of the ship, the two would likely survive given their tough disposition. With a nod of reassurance to River she faced the Leader, the Thunderlance booming into existence. Bellona's eyes ignited with Source-energy once more, lowering herself into stance. "A few reject Him and would rather see Him destroyed, and His allies removed from existence." Bellona - no, Gladiator - lunged forward, ramming the techno-mystical spear out in an attempt to end the fight quickly via impalement, her strike carrying all the might her perfected body would allow, the spear practically howling through the air as it shot out. "You face one of the few!" She roared, engaging in battle with their leader.</s>
<\|description\|>Aura Eris Arcana Race: Half-Demon Age: 104 Appearance: Equipment : He has a legendary sword with the ability to cut through anything which is not equally legendary, other than that it is just an ordinary sword Abilities: Magical Prodigy - He knows basic forms of magic from all members of his team, however only small scale versions and generally only uses this for menial tasks Arcane Magics - can use magic which manipulates time,space and gravity... Time - Range is within ten meters and does not stop the time of living beings, can be used to slow down or speed up objects as well as himself Space - Range is within five meters and allows him to store a large number of items in a pocket dimension or to be more accurate he creates more space from a small space like his pouch. His manipulation of space also allows him to teleport within this short range, but if he uses this ability four times he gets sleepy. Gravity - range of five to twenty meters can make objects and himself heavier or lighter, due to this reason he tends to do well against large weak opponents or heavily armored opponents. his power is limited in that it can not effect living creatures. He only uses this as a last resort as it effects all around him including his servants making the power useless as long as he has servants around. Though his main servents each have ways to deal with this ability utilizing magic, he can not increase beyond ten times gravity, but ten times gravity is enough to make most normal people fall to their knees or even breakdown completely Regeneration - can regenerate minor wounds Blood Bonds - Due to the nature of his blood even when cut his limbs remain together, it still hurts to be cut though Short Bio: Born from his mother who was human, he was raised peacefully with his father a former demonlord being defeated shortly after he turned four at the hands of a new Hero. As a normal child he lived peacefully but he was his father's child as he proclaimed himself as the demon lord at age ten, his mother never objected and as he went around the world he left her messages of his adventures as he subjugated the worthless humans under his rule, the heroes came after him but they either held back cause he was a child or they felt disappointed and chose to go after other demon lords. He has only ever fought two heroes, the first hero he beat with gravity alone as he wondered if all heroes were weak, the second hero had him beaten but never finished him off. All other heroes who have made genuine attempts are taken out by Riktor, while Shi-anna mostly does healing or plays with her hair. The hero who beat him just fights other heroes cause he now has a deep hatred for them. So these four now travel together to take over the world and proclaim himself as the one True Demon Lord as well as taking out heroes they also take out the competition, good or bad anyone who stands in the way of the demon lord must die. He also has close to ten thousand lesser demons all serving under him who generally look after each of his homes in each of his conquered villages. These lesser demons are pretty worthless and are just there to act as meat shields, which is the only purpose they have since they too weak to oppose the demon lord and too strong to ever side with weak humans... Name: Shi-anna Solstone Race: Elf Age:211 Appearance: Equipment : A magic sword - used to cut through most armor, however does very little damage but hurts A magic bow - cause elves love arrows Abilities: Elemental Magic - basic magic of the elements Fire,Earth,Air,Water, with more advanced froms of Lightning,Ice,Nature,Lava Short Bio : An elf who had originally set out on a quest to assist the heroes and help slay the demonlord. Having found the four heroes to all be jerks, she eventually joined the fifth hero, as they journeyed he did not bother her with flirtation or other stupid hero gimmicks then as he went missing she finally found him protecting a small boy, she also met a huge ogre of a demon. When she heard he chose to serve with the demonlord her first instinct was to kill all of them. However the boy appeared innocent at the time, but then she learned he was a true demon lord as he conquered villages one by one. She wanted to stop them, but she had to admit it was fun being with them. That and she soon learnt the demon lord had more to offer her, since most heroes just gave her cheap presents the demon lord gave her a beautiful necklace, which was ofcourse stolen from the princess of the one city they chose to invade but left after finding out the city had close to twenty new heroes which would have meant fighting for days, that and she objected to them spending anymore time in the city since it was noisy,dirty and also had too many people in it to kill. Also she wanted to go the village nearby which had a spa and lots of beautiful jewelry Name: Riktor Race: DemonBeast Age: 9015 Appearance: Equipment : Uses a really big and really heavy sword, however he prefers to fight with his barehands unless the battle requires him to go all out Abilities: Insane Strength - Known as the strongest Demon of his time, he has gotten a bit overweight and is not as epic as he used to be, though he is old his still able to level a small hill or village with a single blow, if he manages to hit anything. His eyesight is not as good as it used to be Beast Instinct - His eyesight is bad so he generally attacks based on smell and hearing and general sense of where things are, due to this he hardly ever manages to focus his attacks clearly, but if anything all he needs is one hit normally... Straight Forward Fast - He may be big but he is also fast, though he tends to move fairly linear Toughskin - His skin is tough, requires weapons made of atleast diamond or mithryl and up or the legendary demonbane to pierce his skin, however with enough force it is still possible to break through his flesh, his back is weak though due to him never taking hits from behind much Regeneration - All demons can regenerate and as long as he is not attacked in the same place repeatedly he generally heals wounds, however this regeneration is limited unless he consumes some meat and flesh, he generally keeps a wild goat to atleast help with his regeneration in serious fights, otherwise he regenerates by eating his enemies Short Bio: Abandoned by his former master after sustaining a back injury he searched for a new master for close to 8000 years, when finally he was found by a young little boy, this boy proclaimed himself as the demon lord and finding this to be an insult he attacked the child. Having learnt of the child's true status he served under the boy, however even having defeated the child in their first encounter he trained the child only to be beaten most of the time through loopholes and mistakes made by him. The record stands at 5 to the Strongest Demon, and 45 to the Demon Lord, they do not battle that often as the boy generally prefers to spend most of his time sleeping when his not gaining more minions or enslaving villages under his rule... Name:Alexandier Race: Human(Hero) Age: 21 Appearance: Equipment: Holy Sword - Escalber5 (because the other 4 were taken by the other heroes) Basic Knight Armor - He hates wearing the helmet since he likes his beautiful hair Abilities: Advanced Swordsmanship - His mastery of the sword is so great the people believed him to be a God of the Sword, however the truth is he is just exceptionally skilled at wielding a sword from any position that is all Sword Call - He can call his sword back to his right hand, however he is unable to move when doing this making it dangerous to use when there is no available time Sword Magic - He is able to enhance his blade with various magic as well as summon swords as well, however he prefers to use his main sword Holy Magic - As with most heroes he mastered holy magic to fight demons Short Bio: He was born a hero and as the other four heroes each managed to defeat the four demon lords of the time, he had nothing to do when he finally found there was a new demonlord, he hunted and searched only to find the demonlord was a child. Disappointed and bored he decided to attack the child, he was about to win when he hesitated only to nearly be killed by Riktor who after fighting for close to a week he won. Having beaten Riktor he was going to slay the DemonLord who happened to be sleeping. Feeling bored and a bit conflicted as the other four heroes each married princesses and bragged all the time about how strong they are, he teamed up with the Demonlord in order to slay the other four after which he laid each of their swords on their graves which later became the DemonLords Treasury where he kept his conquests as well as treasure which only the Hero cared about since demons do not really need gold or treasure to begin with. This hero was jealous but now serves the demon lord as a hero for all demons</s> <\|message\|>Obadiah P. Spider Obadiah's attempt at socializing was interrupted when a burst of bullets blew his top hat right off his head. He turned his head towards the attackers in shock, though his shocked expression looked the same as all his other ones to a non-arachnid. Bullets, my greatest weakness! He was tempted to seek cover, but no, no gentleman could abandon a damsel in distress. "Get behind me, my lady!" he said to the obviously far larger Jessibelle as he pulled a new top hat from his jacket. Instead of putting it on, he aimed the opening towards the attackers, bracing it with three of his arms, the fourth one still holding his cane. Instead of aiming at the turtle girl and her allies, whom he deemed a less immediate threat, he aimed it past them at the teenage boy with the Uzi. His hat made plof sound as a weighted red boxing glove flew out, and another one shortly afterwards. During it all, small spiders were beginning to crawl from all the openings in his suit, forming a puddle of them at his feet.</s> <\|message\|>LeeRoy the Immortal Scientist and the Voidman (The Voidman can't be seen or heard by anybody who isn't a telepath or LeeRoy.) As bullets whipped past her legs and blew Obadiah's hat off, Jessibelle couldn't seem any more dissinterested if she tried. She stepped over Obadiah and extended her legs so she could step even higher over the crowds. With one loud crash she stomped one of her legs on the ground, making herself not only visible but making a noise to draw attention to her even further. At fifteen feet high it would be impossible for her to go unnoticed. The swarm of warriors burst into the room, guns blazing and weapons at the ready. Unflinchingly she stood in their path and raised her voice to unbelievable levels. "Halt your advancce, 'Warriorss,' and heed my wordss!" Jessibelle's words rang out from above the masses, directed to all who stood before her. "I am Jesssibellle Ad Fortuna, Empresss of the Ahss Chini and one who makess demandss! I demand your greatesst warrior! Whossoever claimss this title among you, follow me! You are my perssonal prey! Facce me alone, or I hunt you and your companionss mysself! Until I find the one I am sseeking!" With that, Jessibelle turned herself around and passed over the group. Lowering herself into the crowd and heading towards a secluded corner of the antechamber they are in. That message was sure to draw the attention of the cockiest of the bunch. Jessibelle knows how heroes think, they argue and probably strike eachother once or twice. Then when they've finished arguing, the one who shouted the loudest and acted the toughest steps forth. Unfortunately, this isn't a fairy tale. Jessibelle doesn't enjoy fighting more than one person at a time, so once the one warrior engages her they won't be recieving any help from their friends.</s>	<\|message\|>Aura Eris Arcana Things were peaceful and quiet, the world was a nice place until that guy happened as the bullets came randomly blazing out an annoyed Elf took to the front of her group and invoked her magic as whirlwind spun around them blocking the bullets. The little demon lord was beginning to stir as he was annoyed by this interruption to his attempt at a nap. The Beast just smiled as he was thinking how fun the battle would soon be, meanwhile some arrows were also flying from some group of one two three, maybe four groups made up of the ten heroes. The traitor Hero just sat down as he summoned a large sword in front of him to block any stray hits. Things were going well until some arrows came raining down so to speak as the beast jumped to the side to dodge them while maintaining the little boy on his back, and just as they all were going to relax. The look of shock, fear and excitement on the faces of the Hero the Beast and the Elf as the Flaming Lady or Man was charging towards them. They could be in for some serious trouble as she began combining her water magic with her wind to create Ice Magic as she blasted it towards the Flaming Idiot in the hopes of dousing his flames. Meanwhile the hero ran and stopped before the witch and said, "Little girls and pet bugs should go home" The Demon Lord was still resting so to speak but there was a stray bullet from a different source that hit the beast in the arm making him bleed for a moment but it was not deep enough to do anything serious. The Beast looked serious as the largest of the enemies was missing and it was too soon to wake his master for dealing with this rabble. As he tried to keep his pose, the Hero seemed to be trying to talk the witch and grasshopper into leaving, while the elf girl was busy with her spell would it be a battle of mages and somewhere in the mess the Hero looked to the side and so did a few others as the demon lord woke up glaring at the giant spider before saying, "This is why no one likes Empresses anymore". What would happene to their team and how would this all play out, a basic fight and a basic battle but what magic is in store for our heroes and what other abilities were they hiding. All in all it was time to see where this game plan was heading and why the spider lady wants to fight one on one when fighting one on ten would be best.</s>
<\|description\|>Grace Whyte Alias: Hasn't decided yet Age: 16 Power/ Limitations: Water Manipulation -Can shape and manipulate water -Density manipulation/ water solidification -Is unable to create water, is limited to using existing sources. -Distance and the amount of matter depends on user's strength -Controlling and manipulating greater bodies is exhausting. Personality/History (because I have a bad habit of writing them both at the same time): Grace is a very kind and gentle soul, who's deeply concerned with ocean conservation and protection and has an odd love of mermaids. She's a very shy girl, doesn't like confrontation or attention being drawn to her and this often causes conflict with her strong views about environmentalism, more often than not her passion will overcome her shyness when needed. She is friendly and cheerful enough when she is around people she is comfortable with, but she's hardly one to raise her hand in class to ask a question. She and her mother moved into (the area because I never thought of a town name) when she was five, mostly to be closer to a school for people like her in preparation for when she entered high school. Her father was a normal human, but left them once Grace began displaying abilities like her mother. Grace's mother herself has fire manipulation powers, so it s theorised that the elemental manipulation part at least was passed down from mother to daughter, though manifested in a different way. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte The sun began streaming in through the window, the light hitting Grace in the face and causing it to scrunch up before she opened her eyes reluctantly and rolled over, lying on her back and placing her hands behind her head as she stared at the ceiling. Today was her first day of high school. It was still taking a little while for that fact to sink in, it seemed like just yesterday her and her mother were moving in even though it was more like ten or so years ago now, right before she'd started primary school. Truth be told she hadn't thought about it much until now. Glancing over at her clock Grace sighed, realising she had a lot of time to fill before school was even close to starting now. Sliding out of bed she walked over to the large fish tank in her room, kneeling down and watching the small collection of guppies swimming around. "Morning guys." She said, still staring at them. After a few moments, however she sighed and stood up. "Still not talking to me hu?" Grace had always been slightly hopeful that, along with her water powers, she would have developed the ability to talk to marine creatures. To this day she'd had no such luck. Walking into the bathroom she also checked her neck for gills, another hopeful wish of hers. Though she was aware by now she'd probably developed all the powers she was going to she still liked to hope. She took a fairly long shower, seeing as she had a lot of time to spare and then went back to her room. Before she closed the blinds she did glance out her window at the room across from hers next door but if Patric was awake then she couldn't see him because his curtains were closed. Shrugging she closed her blinds and got dressed before heading downstairs. The house was quiet and still; meaning her mother still hadn't gotten back from her most recent crime fighting endeavours or she had gotten back rather late and was just asleep upstairs sleeping. Grace set about making herself some breakfast and sat down in the living room, turning on the TV and flipping to a channel that had cartoons. She did pause briefly on a news channel where her mother was fighting off some crazy bug lady. Obviously the result of last night's call out. However it was quickly over and she flicked over to cartoons.</s> <\|message\|>Patrick Bleakley 'Remember Patrick, in order to use your Chi to its full potential you must be at harmony with yourself at all times. You can achieve this by daily meditiation.' The words of his first official master drifted lazily through Patrick's mind as he sat in a cross legged position with his eyes closed and hands on his knees. Every morning started this way, three hours of meditation, just as his master had instructed him. His eyes opened as his second alarm clock went off, indicating that it was time to begin moving on to the next step of his morning regiment. As he rose from his seated position he removed his T-Shirt in a single fluid motion, allowing his incredibly honed teenaged body to be exposed. Moving to the window he parted his curtains with haste to let in the sunlight, the sight of which brought a smile to his face. He had never stayed in one place for very long in his youth, but he had always spent his summers in this home. He glanced over at Grace's window but figured she was already starting her own morning routine when he didn't see her. Moving back to the center of his rather spacious room he stretched his arms to their limits above his head while at the same time rolling his neck slowly from one side to the other. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he slowly began to lower his arms before moving through the first few forms of his preferred martial style. The exercise is designed to not only stretch all of his muscles in prepartion for the day, but also improve his muscle memory. While he is highly skilled in this particular fighting style he still has a long way to go before he can be considered a master of it, which is why he has been using it's kata's for his morning routine. After he had completed up to the advanced forms he dropped into a more relaxed state to give his muscles a moment to rest. With the recovery period finished he kneeled down and placed his palms on the floor. Without hesitation he altered his position and began doing push-ups. Finishing with his push-ups he quite literally jumped back to his feet before once more settling into a relaxed stance. With his chosen exercised completed he made his way to the bathroom that connected to his room. Setting the shower up the way he liked, he looked at himself in the mirror for a bit to let the water heat up. Flashing a brief smile at his reflection he hopped into the shower. 15 minutes later he was drying himself off and putting on a different T-Shirt, this one a plain white color, and a pair of jeans. With his fingers running through his hair he entered his room again and glanced briefly at one of his clocks. Realizing that he still had an hour before school would start he signed a bit before heading downstairs. Patrick didn't bother checking for his father as he was never home until later in the evening, and even then he would often leave shortly after. Instead he grabbed a protein bar and headed out the door, knowing that he would be eating at the school later on anyway. Taking a couple of bites out of the bar he covered the short distance between his home and Grace's. While many would knock before entering a friends house, he and Grace had spent a lot of time together during his summers so he just walked right in. Without so much as a word he waltzed into her living room and plopped down next to her, just as he finished the bar. He focused on the TV for a couple of minutes before abruptly standing back up. "Alright this is boring Grace! Lets go for a walk instead! I know we still have time before school, but we can take our time. I will be waiting!" Without giving her time to reply he made his way out of her house to await her outside.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte The sound of the door opening caught Grace a little off guard for a moment and she leaned back very slightly, looking to see who came in. She had somewhat been expecting her mother, still unsure if she was upstairs asleep or out fighting for justice and junk. However when she saw Patrick she smiled slightly as he sat down beside her. She smiled at him and greeted him good morning then returned to watching her show. The peace lasted only a few moments before Patrick stood up abruptly and declared they were going for a walk, causing her to make a face at him, not that he noticed because he was already gone. "But… but… ninja turtles…" She complained quietly to herself before she sighed and stood up. Walking around her house she began making sure everything was closed and locked, because she'd never hear the end of it if they got robbed before grabbing her bag and heading outside to catch up. "I hope you realise you've interrupted a summer long tradition this morning. For weeks now I've gotten up and eaten my cereal whilst watching Ninja Turtles. Now I'll never know if they beat the Shredder for the zillionth time." It had rained last night, so everything was glistening with water and puddles covered the ground. She reached out, letting her hands brush against the plants as she passed, small water droplets transferring onto her hand or falling onto the ground. She always loved the smell of everything after it had rained. It smelt fresher, cleaner. Gray clouds still hung overhead, meaning they may even get more rain later. The girl felt, needless to say, most at home when she was surrounded by water. Still, despite all her moaning and groaning she was happy to see him. "So… are you as nervous about school today as I am?" Truth be told if it wasn't for Patrick she probably wouldn't have seen many people during the holidays. Grace wasn't the most social of butterflies, often fearing that someone may unintentionally discover her powers if she got too close to them. So it had been hard finding others her age who also had powers. Her mother had networked a little to try and find friends for her, but none of them had worked out as well as the accidental friendship she'd formed with the boy net door.</s> <\|message\|>Patrick Bleakley Patrick found it insane that Grace could just sit around and watch TV without doing anything else, it just didn't make any sense to him as it was a waste of time in his eyes. The most television he had ever watched was the rare times Grace would actually get him to stay sitting in her house rather than dragging her around the city. As time slowly ticked by, and Patrick's boredom increased, he began jogging in place waiting with eager anticipation for her. Today was a big day for both of them, as it marked their first days of attending the superpower exclusive high school. While many would be nervous at the idea, Grace likely among them, Patrick was only filled with excitement. Since he would be with teachers and students like him he knew that his father wouldn't dare make him move again. As Grace finally exited her house Patrick flashed her his brightest smile as his jogging motion ceased. "Jeez did you take long enough Grace? I probably could have ran there and back with time to spare!" While he meant it as a jest Patrick also knew it wasn't too far off the mark. He knew that there were some people who could outrun him, those with speed specific powers, he also knew that not many could keep up with him. He couldn't help but roll his eyes as Grace aired her grievances at his interruption. "Come on! It is highly unlikely that you were watching a new episode! With how much time you spent with that TV this summer I would be surprised if there were any shows left for you to watch." Patrick shook his head a bit in amusement as he began walking along side Grace. He hadn't noticed it earlier but it clearly had rained either in the early morning or last night. This brought a much simpler smile to his face, as he knew Grace would feel a lot more relaxed about what the day would bring with so much of her element surrounding her. As if reacting to his thoughts Grace began running her hands along the droplets the clung to the leaves of the various fauna, causing his smile to grow a bit. "How could I be nervous with so much excitement rushing through me? I am pumped to finally be around people like us!" He casually tossed his arm around her shoulders as he spoke, an action he didn't even notice. For as long as he could remember he and Grace had been there for one another, which was more than welcome for Patrick. Between the charity work he did during the summer, and the constant moving during the rest of the months he never really had the chance to get close to anyone, let alone someone who had powers. "I know you are nervous, but can you honestly say that there isn't at least a small part of you that is excited?"</s>	<\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace rolled her eyes slightly seeing Patrick jogging in place. The kid was like a rabbit. She was pretty sure he couldn't stay in place for more than a few minutes if you paid him. She wasn't entirely sure, but Grace had also theorised more than once that he probably jogged on the spot whilst he was sleeping too. When he stated she had taken too long the girl pointed at him threateningly. "Don't make me hurt you." An entirely empty threat. She wasn't sure she even could hurt Patrick if she tried. He seemed very hardy and she theorised it was partially due to his powers. Not to mention there was some height difference between the pair. "First you interrupt my Ninja Turtles then you insult my honour. My honour good sir! I was locking up my house to make sure we didn't get robbed. And the amount of TV I watched during the holidays is none of your business. I happened to go on these amazing emotional adventures with those wonderful people with strange hair." The girl defended herself. "Just because some of us have ants in their pants doesn't mean others can't take time out to rot their minds." As Patrick threw his arm around her and declared how excited she was she smiled slightly, honestly happy for him. But could just not bring herself t share in the excitement. She had never been the most confident person in herself. She had developed powers at quite an early age, but hadn't gained control of them for a number of years. This fear that her powers may act up on her without notice led to her being fairly withdrawn, believing that if she wasn't given a provocation nothing would happen because she knew if anyone had discovered her powers then they'd likely would have had to move. She wasn't sure what Patrick would have thought if he'd come home for summer vacation and she hadn't been there one year with no explanation no forwarding address and no way of contacting her. In the end she hadn't gained much control until middle school. His excitement to be around others like them wasn't helping her anxiety. It was another fear of hers. They had never met anyone else like them before and it was difficult to be friends with normal people because you could never be one hundred percent yourself with them. What if he got there and realised there were a lot cooler people he could be hanging out with? People more like him? He wouldn't have to settle for her anymore. Realising she'd been quiet for a long time and she'd been staring at the pavement as they'd walked Grace blinked slightly and looked back up to him, smiling. "Yeah, I guess so." She never had been a good liar either.</s>
<\|description\|>Patrick Bleakley Alias: Hasn't decided yet Age: 16 Power/ Limitations: First Power- Enhanced Condition Second Power- Mystical Martial Arts. Patrick uses Chi/Ki/Spirit to augment traditional martial arts. Personality/History (I decided just to combine them as you did ^^): Patrick is a very kind individual, always wanting to help those in need, he even spends any free time he can get during the summer months to work for various charities. Despite the fact that he doesn't have to do any upkeep to maintain his physical attributes he still keeps up a fairly religious training schedule. He is also very confident in himself, though he isn't arrogant as his father made sure to instill in Patrick the firm distinction between the two. For as long as Patrick could remember he had been raised by his father, though he has yet to learn the reason for his mothers absence. His childhood didn't suffer at all from this however as his father loved him deeply. The only thing Patrick found a bit strange was how firm his father was on him never growing arrogant. According to his dad arrogance was, and is, the leading cause of the current state of the world. While he didn't get any of his father's powers, it was his dad that made it so Patrick did receive his gifts. His dad never really went into detail about his powers, but Patrick believes that they are related to the manipulation of gravity from the rare times when his father would use his ability when he thought Patrick was not around. Due to the combination of powers Patrick has he moved often as a child in order to learn from a wide variety of martial art trainers. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte The sun began streaming in through the window, the light hitting Grace in the face and causing it to scrunch up before she opened her eyes reluctantly and rolled over, lying on her back and placing her hands behind her head as she stared at the ceiling. Today was her first day of high school. It was still taking a little while for that fact to sink in, it seemed like just yesterday her and her mother were moving in even though it was more like ten or so years ago now, right before she'd started primary school. Truth be told she hadn't thought about it much until now. Glancing over at her clock Grace sighed, realising she had a lot of time to fill before school was even close to starting now. Sliding out of bed she walked over to the large fish tank in her room, kneeling down and watching the small collection of guppies swimming around. "Morning guys." She said, still staring at them. After a few moments, however she sighed and stood up. "Still not talking to me hu?" Grace had always been slightly hopeful that, along with her water powers, she would have developed the ability to talk to marine creatures. To this day she'd had no such luck. Walking into the bathroom she also checked her neck for gills, another hopeful wish of hers. Though she was aware by now she'd probably developed all the powers she was going to she still liked to hope. She took a fairly long shower, seeing as she had a lot of time to spare and then went back to her room. Before she closed the blinds she did glance out her window at the room across from hers next door but if Patric was awake then she couldn't see him because his curtains were closed. Shrugging she closed her blinds and got dressed before heading downstairs. The house was quiet and still; meaning her mother still hadn't gotten back from her most recent crime fighting endeavours or she had gotten back rather late and was just asleep upstairs sleeping. Grace set about making herself some breakfast and sat down in the living room, turning on the TV and flipping to a channel that had cartoons. She did pause briefly on a news channel where her mother was fighting off some crazy bug lady. Obviously the result of last night's call out. However it was quickly over and she flicked over to cartoons.</s> <\|message\|>Patrick Bleakley 'Remember Patrick, in order to use your Chi to its full potential you must be at harmony with yourself at all times. You can achieve this by daily meditiation.' The words of his first official master drifted lazily through Patrick's mind as he sat in a cross legged position with his eyes closed and hands on his knees. Every morning started this way, three hours of meditation, just as his master had instructed him. His eyes opened as his second alarm clock went off, indicating that it was time to begin moving on to the next step of his morning regiment. As he rose from his seated position he removed his T-Shirt in a single fluid motion, allowing his incredibly honed teenaged body to be exposed. Moving to the window he parted his curtains with haste to let in the sunlight, the sight of which brought a smile to his face. He had never stayed in one place for very long in his youth, but he had always spent his summers in this home. He glanced over at Grace's window but figured she was already starting her own morning routine when he didn't see her. Moving back to the center of his rather spacious room he stretched his arms to their limits above his head while at the same time rolling his neck slowly from one side to the other. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he slowly began to lower his arms before moving through the first few forms of his preferred martial style. The exercise is designed to not only stretch all of his muscles in prepartion for the day, but also improve his muscle memory. While he is highly skilled in this particular fighting style he still has a long way to go before he can be considered a master of it, which is why he has been using it's kata's for his morning routine. After he had completed up to the advanced forms he dropped into a more relaxed state to give his muscles a moment to rest. With the recovery period finished he kneeled down and placed his palms on the floor. Without hesitation he altered his position and began doing push-ups. Finishing with his push-ups he quite literally jumped back to his feet before once more settling into a relaxed stance. With his chosen exercised completed he made his way to the bathroom that connected to his room. Setting the shower up the way he liked, he looked at himself in the mirror for a bit to let the water heat up. Flashing a brief smile at his reflection he hopped into the shower. 15 minutes later he was drying himself off and putting on a different T-Shirt, this one a plain white color, and a pair of jeans. With his fingers running through his hair he entered his room again and glanced briefly at one of his clocks. Realizing that he still had an hour before school would start he signed a bit before heading downstairs. Patrick didn't bother checking for his father as he was never home until later in the evening, and even then he would often leave shortly after. Instead he grabbed a protein bar and headed out the door, knowing that he would be eating at the school later on anyway. Taking a couple of bites out of the bar he covered the short distance between his home and Grace's. While many would knock before entering a friends house, he and Grace had spent a lot of time together during his summers so he just walked right in. Without so much as a word he waltzed into her living room and plopped down next to her, just as he finished the bar. He focused on the TV for a couple of minutes before abruptly standing back up. "Alright this is boring Grace! Lets go for a walk instead! I know we still have time before school, but we can take our time. I will be waiting!" Without giving her time to reply he made his way out of her house to await her outside.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte The sound of the door opening caught Grace a little off guard for a moment and she leaned back very slightly, looking to see who came in. She had somewhat been expecting her mother, still unsure if she was upstairs asleep or out fighting for justice and junk. However when she saw Patrick she smiled slightly as he sat down beside her. She smiled at him and greeted him good morning then returned to watching her show. The peace lasted only a few moments before Patrick stood up abruptly and declared they were going for a walk, causing her to make a face at him, not that he noticed because he was already gone. "But… but… ninja turtles…" She complained quietly to herself before she sighed and stood up. Walking around her house she began making sure everything was closed and locked, because she'd never hear the end of it if they got robbed before grabbing her bag and heading outside to catch up. "I hope you realise you've interrupted a summer long tradition this morning. For weeks now I've gotten up and eaten my cereal whilst watching Ninja Turtles. Now I'll never know if they beat the Shredder for the zillionth time." It had rained last night, so everything was glistening with water and puddles covered the ground. She reached out, letting her hands brush against the plants as she passed, small water droplets transferring onto her hand or falling onto the ground. She always loved the smell of everything after it had rained. It smelt fresher, cleaner. Gray clouds still hung overhead, meaning they may even get more rain later. The girl felt, needless to say, most at home when she was surrounded by water. Still, despite all her moaning and groaning she was happy to see him. "So… are you as nervous about school today as I am?" Truth be told if it wasn't for Patrick she probably wouldn't have seen many people during the holidays. Grace wasn't the most social of butterflies, often fearing that someone may unintentionally discover her powers if she got too close to them. So it had been hard finding others her age who also had powers. Her mother had networked a little to try and find friends for her, but none of them had worked out as well as the accidental friendship she'd formed with the boy net door.</s>	<\|message\|>Patrick Bleakley Patrick found it insane that Grace could just sit around and watch TV without doing anything else, it just didn't make any sense to him as it was a waste of time in his eyes. The most television he had ever watched was the rare times Grace would actually get him to stay sitting in her house rather than dragging her around the city. As time slowly ticked by, and Patrick's boredom increased, he began jogging in place waiting with eager anticipation for her. Today was a big day for both of them, as it marked their first days of attending the superpower exclusive high school. While many would be nervous at the idea, Grace likely among them, Patrick was only filled with excitement. Since he would be with teachers and students like him he knew that his father wouldn't dare make him move again. As Grace finally exited her house Patrick flashed her his brightest smile as his jogging motion ceased. "Jeez did you take long enough Grace? I probably could have ran there and back with time to spare!" While he meant it as a jest Patrick also knew it wasn't too far off the mark. He knew that there were some people who could outrun him, those with speed specific powers, he also knew that not many could keep up with him. He couldn't help but roll his eyes as Grace aired her grievances at his interruption. "Come on! It is highly unlikely that you were watching a new episode! With how much time you spent with that TV this summer I would be surprised if there were any shows left for you to watch." Patrick shook his head a bit in amusement as he began walking along side Grace. He hadn't noticed it earlier but it clearly had rained either in the early morning or last night. This brought a much simpler smile to his face, as he knew Grace would feel a lot more relaxed about what the day would bring with so much of her element surrounding her. As if reacting to his thoughts Grace began running her hands along the droplets the clung to the leaves of the various fauna, causing his smile to grow a bit. "How could I be nervous with so much excitement rushing through me? I am pumped to finally be around people like us!" He casually tossed his arm around her shoulders as he spoke, an action he didn't even notice. For as long as he could remember he and Grace had been there for one another, which was more than welcome for Patrick. Between the charity work he did during the summer, and the constant moving during the rest of the months he never really had the chance to get close to anyone, let alone someone who had powers. "I know you are nervous, but can you honestly say that there isn't at least a small part of you that is excited?"</s>
<\|description\|>Light Alias(s): Light Age: 24 Affiliations: Heroes Factions: Reformists. Description: Light wears no costume, and fights in her civilian cloths if you can call them that. Light is a 5"5 tall female humanoid with cartoonish looking features including an overly large round head with no nose and very large eyes, fin-like ears, skinny biceps with large forearms and hands which have sharp fingers. She has a more exaggerated hourglass shape with large hips, with her legs ending in sharp points where her feet should be. She wears a blue and white sleeveless dress that has an M cut in the front to show her legs. She has pure white skin, short blue hair, and black eyes with orange iris'. Powers: Adaptive Total Regeneration: Light can regenerate from any injury except atomization, even supernatural ones such as having her soul split and the like. Additionally after regenerating from an injury, Light will gain resistance to that type of injury, her body changing texture to show what she is resistant to. This temporary resistance goes away after a couple of hours. Weakness: Light can't adapt to injuries caused by Iron or Silver. Contact with Iron causes a mild burning sensation while contact with Silver causes violent bursts of flame. These injuries can lead to atomization, causing Light to die and respawn at a random site after awhile with a bit of a memory loss depending on what she was killed by. Atomization without iron/silver does almost nothing while Iron does a little and Silver can do quite a bit. Naturally this psuedo immortality has made Light very careless in combat, at least when Silver isn't involved. Energy Siphon: Light passively steals energy from whatever she is touching. She can't control this effect at all, however the more damaged she is, the more energy she leeches from things. Weakness: Light can't siphon energy from objects made of Iron or Silver. Pocket Space: Light can store objects in a small pocket dimension under/behind her dress. Weakness: Light can't store objects made of Iron or Silver. Void Slip: Light can pull a hole out from under her dress, giving her a personal wormhole to any place within her sightlines. Weakness: Light can't place her exit hole on any objects made of Iron or Silver. Super Strength: Light has superhuman strength due to her Faye powers. Weakness: Light's strength is reduced when in contact with Iron and drastically reduced when in contact with Silver, or when hitting objects made of Iron or Silver. Skills: Light is familiar with quite a few things due to having to grow up alone on the streets, but doesn't have mastery over anything worth mentioning. She does learn quite fast however, when she isn't fooling around. Equipment: None, Light stores random things in her Pocket Space though. Ranking: A (Optional) Brief History: Light was an orphan that grew up on the streets of LA, making a living using her powers more for the entertainment of others than anything. One day the government took notice and took her in, Light being a big help with the downfall of Aperture. For the past few years the government has made Light into a pop star to try to foster better relationships with metas and non metas, while still using her unique powers to stop terrorists or the like.</s> <\|message\|>Alto Ganze "Emperor, an employee has requested to see you." He snapped awake, drool running down his chin. He blearily raised his head to see Theo standing over him, a rather neutral expression on his face. "They are waiting to be let in." "Uh, just hold up a sec." Sitting up in his chair, he stretched a little as he wiped the drool off of his chin. He stood up, straightening his lab coat and making sure his hair pins were still in place and that his hair was neatly tied up. "Con, check their employee ID please." He said aloud. "Yes, master." she said from somewhere behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see Con, staring out of the window as always. "No ID found." she said after a few moments. "Ugh, damn it." Alto said to himself. "Not this again…" Now that Alto was a CEO, he'd been introduced to the world of corporate espionage. It was sort of a rare occurrence, generally speaking, but last time he'd had to deal with corporate espionage, he'd blown out all the windows in his office. A lot's changed in five years… He looked back at Theo, who now had a physical form. He'd made the physical manifestation program not long after the destruction of Aperture, and ever since then Theo and Con had rarely ever gone back. Theo mainly stayed because he was more useful to Alto in his physical form, but Alto didn't really know why Con stayed around all the time. She seemed to be very interested in the world, and how it worked. Not that she ever told him, but it hardly really mattered. He could see it in her eyes. On another note, he'd given them free reign over their appearance. Theo had been fairly straight forward, he was about average height, short black hair and dark eyes. For some reason he always wore a butler uniform, not that Alto really cared that much. Con however was somewhat more interesting. She looked about 10 or 12 years old which fitted her voice somewhat, she had short black hair which only went just past her ears, but she also had mismatched eye colours, one blue and the other hazel. She'd tried a few different clothes in the beginning when he'd first activated his program, but in the end she'd settled for a rather airy yellow dress. But in the end, it may as well have been wallpaper. In reality, they were really just his arms. He looked down at them now, the true forms of Theo and Con. Theo was his left arm, a seamless, grey-blue metal-like construct. The glowing circle on the back of his left hand pulsated softly. Con was his right arm, a complex looking piece of machinery made entirely of black steel. His right arm's complexity was really just to satisfy his sense of aesthetic value. Alto stifled a yawn as he sat back down into his chair. "Theo," He said as he rested his chin on his hands, "Send them in." "Yes, emperor." Theo walked towards the heavy double doors that made up the entrance to his office, tugging on one of the knobs and pulling the door open. He said something to the guest that he didn't quite hear, but he knew it was something along the lines of 'Mr. Ganze will see you now' or something. Alto watched as Theo led a woman with long black hair holding some kind of clipboard into the room, and took his place beside Alto's desk. "Mr. Ganze sir," the woman said, holding her clipboard out, "Here is the monthly financial report." He looked at the clipboard for a few awkward moments. It was completely blank. He put his head in his hands and sighed. It's her... "Sal, are you even trying?" "I-I'm sorry?" she said in a worried tone. "Sal, it's the middle of the month," Alto said, "There's nothing on that clipboard, and I don't even handle financial reports." "Oh, right. The woman said, her voice becoming more childish and juvenile. "I forgot about that." As Alto watched, the woman slowly changed form into another little girl. She looked to be a little older than Con, but she still wouldn't have been over 12. She had sandy blonde hair, similarly coloured eyes and she also had cat ears and a tail, for some reason or another (kind of like this). "Why do you like that form so much anyway?" He asked wearily. She skipped around the table over to Alto's side. "Because," She said, jumping up and putting her arms around his neck. "I know how much you like it..." she whispered in his ear. Alto sighed as he pushed her off, letting her drop onto the floor. "C'mon!" She said, pouting slightly, "That's no fun." "You know I'm working, right?" He said, "Why are you even here?" "I wanted to see you!" She said sweetly, opening her arms widely, as if gesturing for a hug. Alto didn't oblige. "If you only wanted to see me, you could've just asked you know." He turned to look over his shoulder to see Con staring at them with a kind of wistful look in her eyes. Well, she always looked wistful, but she was more wistful than usual right now. "Uh, hey Con?" He said carefully, "Do we have any messages?" He saw the wistful look fade slightly, as she replied. "Yes, we have received a call from the Reformists council." "Oh, the council," He said, "I wonder what they want with me. Con, play it back, please." [-----] "So, Cedric wants me to do stuff." He said after finishing the message. "Hey Theo, have I got anything coming up?" "You have no appointments, emperor." "Alright, thanks Theo." Alto pulled out his phone and sent a message back to Cedric specifically. It was sort of a secret, but he had the phone numbers of all of the people in the Reformists council. <May as well drop the pretense, Illegal Stuff Pty. Ltd. Is just me right now, plus a couple of part timers. I'll do the job for $5 total if it's interesting enough, I don't need an extra $10 million. Just tell me when and I'll go and visit Gary.> He pressed send, then got up and stretched. Sal popped up from under his desk to look at his phone. "Who's Cedric?" Sal asked. "He's an old acquaintance I suppose." Alto replied, "I don't know him that well though."</s> <\|message\|>Formerly Hayden Williams, now Tribuo Spero. Five men sat in a small, white, room illuminated by white ceiling lights and multiple monitors situated at various terminals. However one man stood in a black business suit. The large monitors showed various angles and data readouts on a particular figure, only one monitor was absolutely dedicated to numbers. The data monitor showed various statistics, power levels, and other data the scientists would record and study for later. The man in the black suit began to speak up. "Are you sure the speed function actually works this time?" A scientist with a slight beard responded. "Yes, I tested it in my lab personally." "Then let's see how it preforms in 'battle'." The suited man said while making air quotes. Speaking into a connected microphone the scientist this time addressed their subject. "Overdrive, you may begin when you receive the signal. As you may have noticed we've set up multiple cardboard targets so we don't have a repeat of last time, your goal is remove all the civilians from the area and 'apprehend' the terrorist. Keep in mind if you pass we'll finally be able to unveil you." "I understand Dr. Smith." The robot answered back, some of the screens back in the monitor room began to transcribe the previous conversation. Overdrive himself was in an significantly larger area, an 'abandoned' warehouse built specifically for his testing. The warehouse itself looked brand new, but inside were a multitude of empty cargo containers, cardboard figures spread around the area, and 'innocents'. In a few moments after the Doctor's last transition red letters showed up in Overdrive's view, the letters read 'Ready' then proceeded into a count down from five. As the timer dinged '0' a small puff of steam pushed itself out of his back, and in a moment that's all there was left of Overdrive as he took off. Overdrive left blurred streams of red and blue in his after wake. His first goal would be to gather all 'people' and put them in the safe box, a taped off corner of the warehouse, and then 'subdue' or break the cardboard men; while anyone could do this, Overdrive was being timed. His metal pattered rapidly against the cement flooring, leaving slight footprints after every other step, the safe box quickly filled up in a matter of seconds. Returning to the false terrorists Overdrive promptly dug his fists into each one, causing the wooden fakes to explode into a million splinters. With his mission done Overdrive simply stood motionless in front of the warehouse doors. "Was this demonstration satisfactory Doctor?" Overdrive asked, his voice seemed to carry some eagerness. Back in the monitor lab multiple scientists were typing away at their keyboards or writing down numbers, equations, and various other notes. "Yes, thank you Overdrive. Wait for the company vehicle to pick you up, we don't want to unveil you quite yet." Dr. Smith responded via microphone. This time directing his head to the man in the suit the doctor spoke up again. "He clocked in at 338 m/s, just under the speed of sound. With some adjustments I think I can improve that slightly, but he's already far faster than we anticipated." Turning his chair around he continued. "So, what do you think Mr. Hannon?" "I think I want it faster. They say there's always a bigger fish, I want him to be that fish." Hannon said as he left for the door. "I barely managed to push him this far. I can make some slight adjustments to his magnetic actuators but to actually reach or break the sound barrier is impossible!" "So make it possible, or I'll find someone who can." Hannon replied almost with a growl, after his response he promptly slid the sterile white door open and calmly walked out, the doctor simply fell back into his chair and let out a heavy sigh of frustration.</s>	<\|message\|>Light After what happened a few years ago, Light had been sponsored by a division of the Government and given lots of media exposure, eventually becoming one of the most well known heroic metas of the country. She guessed that it was because she was easier to market than the others that had fought alongside her or something, or maybe it was because she already had fans prior. At any rate she was no longer living in small dank apartments, but some nice looking ones all paid for by her government contacts. Light didn't spend most of her time at home though, but was mostly on patrol as it was her obligation now. No more shows at comedy clubs, just patrolling the streets for crime and the occasional meet and greet. It was sort of boring to her, as crime wasn't all that common and the meet and greets where mostly people who seemed like they had a perpetual stick up their butts and wouldn't know how to laugh properly if their lives depended on it. It was a new life she had gotten accustomed to over the past couple years. She did long for the bigger adventures she had back when she was recruited on the meta response force, but at least now people cheered for the most part when they saw her. "At least I get paid to walk around and occasionally fight, so I guess thats a good thing." Light said to herself as she moved around the city, sticking to the rooftops so that she didn't get mobbed or shot, depending on what district she was in. Speaking of getting paid, a few moments later, she was called in by her controller. It took the government a long time, but they managed to make a comms device that worked on cartoon physics. The downside is that it was incredibly simple and could only send and recieve messages on one frequency. When she reached the building, she was told of a meta that seemed to gain powers from other metas by eating them. "Wonderful. Like that guy 8 months ago who used that tail thing to get powers. yay." Light said, moving out with Warpath to try and locate this 'bo'.</s>
<\|description\|>Light Alias(s): Light Age: 24 Affiliations: Heroes Factions: Reformists. Description: Light wears no costume, and fights in her civilian cloths if you can call them that. Light is a 5"5 tall female humanoid with cartoonish looking features including an overly large round head with no nose and very large eyes, fin-like ears, skinny biceps with large forearms and hands which have sharp fingers. She has a more exaggerated hourglass shape with large hips, with her legs ending in sharp points where her feet should be. She wears a blue and white sleeveless dress that has an M cut in the front to show her legs. She has pure white skin, short blue hair, and black eyes with orange iris'. Powers: Adaptive Total Regeneration: Light can regenerate from any injury except atomization, even supernatural ones such as having her soul split and the like. Additionally after regenerating from an injury, Light will gain resistance to that type of injury, her body changing texture to show what she is resistant to. This temporary resistance goes away after a couple of hours. Weakness: Light can't adapt to injuries caused by Iron or Silver. Contact with Iron causes a mild burning sensation while contact with Silver causes violent bursts of flame. These injuries can lead to atomization, causing Light to die and respawn at a random site after awhile with a bit of a memory loss depending on what she was killed by. Atomization without iron/silver does almost nothing while Iron does a little and Silver can do quite a bit. Naturally this psuedo immortality has made Light very careless in combat, at least when Silver isn't involved. Energy Siphon: Light passively steals energy from whatever she is touching. She can't control this effect at all, however the more damaged she is, the more energy she leeches from things. Weakness: Light can't siphon energy from objects made of Iron or Silver. Pocket Space: Light can store objects in a small pocket dimension under/behind her dress. Weakness: Light can't store objects made of Iron or Silver. Void Slip: Light can pull a hole out from under her dress, giving her a personal wormhole to any place within her sightlines. Weakness: Light can't place her exit hole on any objects made of Iron or Silver. Super Strength: Light has superhuman strength due to her Faye powers. Weakness: Light's strength is reduced when in contact with Iron and drastically reduced when in contact with Silver, or when hitting objects made of Iron or Silver. Skills: Light is familiar with quite a few things due to having to grow up alone on the streets, but doesn't have mastery over anything worth mentioning. She does learn quite fast however, when she isn't fooling around. Equipment: None, Light stores random things in her Pocket Space though. Ranking: A (Optional) Brief History: Light was an orphan that grew up on the streets of LA, making a living using her powers more for the entertainment of others than anything. One day the government took notice and took her in, Light being a big help with the downfall of Aperture. For the past few years the government has made Light into a pop star to try to foster better relationships with metas and non metas, while still using her unique powers to stop terrorists or the like.</s> <\|message\|>Formerly Hayden Williams, now Tribuo Spero. "Well it's crude, but it should work. If you want you're more than welcome to join him, I'm confident you'll win." The Doctor's voice sounded once again inside the androids' head. Overdrive shrugged, the offer for a 'friendly rumble' seemed somewhat suspicious, but training against someone confident would be a good experience. "Alright then." Overdrive said as he launched himself into the air with a mighty leap, and landed himself on the far end of the arena. "I'm ready when you are." Overdrive spoke as he placed himself into a comfortable fighting position, his eyes slowly began to glow a bright red instead of it's previously passive blue.</s> <\|message\|>Alto Ganze "If that is your wish, Empress, then I will take my leave." Theo stood up from his chair, and started to walk away from the table. He took one last backward glance before he willed his physical form to collapse and return to the Emperor. He started to dissolve into glowing blue energy starting from the head going down and when the dissolution reached his feet, his consciousness suddenly shifted and he was back in his original body. "Emperor," He said, "I have returned." -- "Oh, hey Theo." Alto said, looking down at his left arm. "How did it go?" "We were cut short," He replied, "It is likely the Empress would have questioned further, but her guardian arrived." "Bummer. Would've been interesting, I suppose." Alto was currently working in one of the maintenance labs, on a robot arm that had been sent in by one of his part-timers. Currently the arm he was working on was probably the only legal rocket punch robot arm in existence. Con could do a rocket punch, but Con wasn't really a robot. Still, this isn't exactly the best for her. The owner of the robot arm he was working on worked sometimes for Alto's secret mercenary company, Illegal Stuff Pty. Ltd. Although she was only ever interested in contract assassination. Actually, one of his other part timers also seemed to prefer contract assassination, or just any kind of job he could fight people. Being part of Illegal Stuff Pty. Ltd. was kind of bad for contract assassination because Alto mainly took jobs like robbing a bank or infiltration and stuff. Don't know why she'd ever use this. He sighed. He had a lot of work to do tonight, firstly he had to fill a few hacking orders he'd gotten for the company and then he'd have to check over the details of the compound that Ruby had sent over to Theo. "Con, can you run some simulations on this arm please?" "Yes, master." As Con ran some tests, he reflected a little on his workload. Maybe it was a bad idea to simultaneously run a mercenary corporation and a technology corporation at the same time. "It should work as intended, master." "Cool. Got it done in..." He looked uo at the clock, "About 10 minutes? That was fast." He picked up another robot limb in need of repair, this one was pretty standard. "It's almost time to go home." He said, "The future promises to be interesting."</s> <\|message\|>Jackson Ducarthy, Kuro, Mu Insomnium The red glow of Insomnium's armor intensified and began to pulsate as he charged forward, moving fast but not overwhelmingly so. His constructs were, however, as 5 balls of shadows shot up from the Arena floor around Robo-Cop and proceeded to bcome out lined in red energy before exploding violently. Insomnium wasn't focused on that, he had seen the guy move earlier, it was most likely to fast for something like that. Instead he kept his eyes and senses open for where ever he moved to, forming several spears made of shadows to go flying after him. They'd also become outlined in red before exploding as soon as they got near the robot man. Insomnium would also be running towards his position, creating a pair of blades to be dual-wielded, extruding his limited control over the 'Light', as Damien liked to call it, to coat said blades, giving them a jagged, white outline. It wasn't the strong, but it would be enough to slightly paralyze a regular human being, and robot's were usually more susceptible to such things, so it was worth a shot. He would lash out with a furious barrage of slashes and strikes, aiming for the joints so as to see if he could disable the bot. Jackson Jackson could only sink deeper into his arms as he heard the lady chastise him. What was he supposed to say, 'I'm sorry, it wasn't me but some alternate persona in my head that made me say it.' Yeah, he may have been isolated from people for all of his life, but even he knew that wouldn't work. As he was sinking into despair, he heard something from the T.V running in the upper corner of the cafe that instantly drew his attention. Janus Corp. On the T.V screen was a newswoman, he didn't know her name, who face was pale as she stood in front of the Headquarters of the Tech company, Janus Corp. While it wasn't the at the top of the market, and had a reputation for illegal activity, it had still been a rather powerful company. And now everyone inside the building had been slaughtered, if the woman was to be believed. She didn't explain how beyond the horridness of it, but Jackson didn't need her to say anything. As he sank back into his seat, deeper than before, he covered his ears to ward of the screams of terror and pain that began to assault him, but hone can't hide from their own mind. The cafe faded away as he remembered the events that had happened only a few hours ago. It had been a regular day in hell, painful experiments in the morning followed by tiring training. He had been about to do something, he had forgotten, when he felt a familiar pressure take hold. A dark insanity that chilled him to the bone. Mu had awoken. He fell over, trying to hold him back, waiting for the scientist to bring the usual lab rat for Mu to sate his bloodlust on,but instead they placed him in a cage and clamped him in special restraints designed to dampen his Reality shifting abilities, and waited. They ignored his pleading and begging, intent to watch as he struggled against the demon inside of him. Soon, Mu over powered him, making his way to the fore and silencing his cries. He only stared at each and everyone of the scientists, his eyes filled with a broken glee and a twisted smile that oozed malicious intent. And the thoughts that rang forth were the same as always. 'Kill them, break them, bend them, rip the flesh, crush the bones, drain the veins, smash their heads into the wall.' Over and over, these thoughts filled the mind, each one conjuring up image after image of the gruesome act they defined. And even with them knowing the danger, they did nothing but watch. But Mu was patient, always patient, waiting for his chance. An hour passed, then two, then three. It had only just reached the fourth hour when he escaped. One second he was in his restraints, the next he had a man by the throat with tendrils made from the metal on the floor, choking the life out of him. The guards opened fire, but their bullets seemed to bounce off of a invisible shield and ricochet back at twice the speed, hitting them all in the brain, as well as others. Mu finished off the man he held by crushing his throat before turning around to face the other occupants in the room, a single word on his lips. "Die." What followed next was a horror show of blood, guts, and mayhem. Mu worked his way up from the basement levels to the very top of the building where the CEO was hiding scared with his vice president. And Mu wasn't without a sense of humor, sadly for the both of them, as he dragged them down to the lobby, which had been closed to the public at this time and every elcetronic device in the building short-circuiting due to the distortions of reality, and opened the Vice-president up, using his blood to right a message to all who would witness this scene. Right above Janus Corp Insignia, he wrote, "They made their choice, they opened the door, and now the beast has been unleashed upon the earth. Chaos will reign and they will be to blame. So spite this man for taking the name of a god, for wanting the powers of a god. His avarice will be this worlds downfall." And right in the middle of the insignia, one would find the CEO of Janus Corp, dead with his vice president's face sewed onto the back of his head. Jackson shook from the memories, feeling like he was going to vomit from what he could remember. He knew it wasn't him that had done those things, not really, but it felt like it was him. Every time his persona's take over, it feel like their wants and desires became his wants and desires. It was so hard not to feel guilty for what Mu had done, when he himself felt the absolute bliss that over took him when a life was stolen. Sad as he was to say it, Jackson had yet to experience something that felt as good to him as murder and bloodshed was to Mu. And that scared him, it truly did scare him. And so Jackson kept his heads down, silently crying as he cursed himself, Kuro keeping quiet as he knew exactly what Jackson needed right now, some peace and quiet. Kuro had been the one to wake up afterwards, in n alley not far from the building. He'd gone unnoticeable and left, trying not to gag at the sight of 5 alley cats and 4 rats that had been ripped apart. He'd made his way to this cafe, stolen some clothes and bam, here they were. Not a penny to their name, homeless, and not an idea where to go. Well, things could be worse right?</s>	<\|message\|>Light Light was moving through the streets of LA, casually looking for metas while enjoying the sights. She wasn't very confident that she would find any metas until she saw a giant chunk of rock just floating above the city. "Well... don't see that everyday..." Light said to herself as she made her way there. Popping out of a hole on top of the giant chunk of rock, Light got to a high point and watched the fight between two metas. She didn't know why they were fighting, but they at least had the decency to fight where civilians couldn't get hurt. Unless she was noticed, she'd probably report the winner to the agency or something. Though Cedric will probably want them both.</s>
<\|description\|>Light Alias(s): Light Age: 24 Affiliations: Heroes Factions: Reformists. Description: Light wears no costume, and fights in her civilian cloths if you can call them that. Light is a 5"5 tall female humanoid with cartoonish looking features including an overly large round head with no nose and very large eyes, fin-like ears, skinny biceps with large forearms and hands which have sharp fingers. She has a more exaggerated hourglass shape with large hips, with her legs ending in sharp points where her feet should be. She wears a blue and white sleeveless dress that has an M cut in the front to show her legs. She has pure white skin, short blue hair, and black eyes with orange iris'. Powers: Adaptive Total Regeneration: Light can regenerate from any injury except atomization, even supernatural ones such as having her soul split and the like. Additionally after regenerating from an injury, Light will gain resistance to that type of injury, her body changing texture to show what she is resistant to. This temporary resistance goes away after a couple of hours. Weakness: Light can't adapt to injuries caused by Iron or Silver. Contact with Iron causes a mild burning sensation while contact with Silver causes violent bursts of flame. These injuries can lead to atomization, causing Light to die and respawn at a random site after awhile with a bit of a memory loss depending on what she was killed by. Atomization without iron/silver does almost nothing while Iron does a little and Silver can do quite a bit. Naturally this psuedo immortality has made Light very careless in combat, at least when Silver isn't involved. Energy Siphon: Light passively steals energy from whatever she is touching. She can't control this effect at all, however the more damaged she is, the more energy she leeches from things. Weakness: Light can't siphon energy from objects made of Iron or Silver. Pocket Space: Light can store objects in a small pocket dimension under/behind her dress. Weakness: Light can't store objects made of Iron or Silver. Void Slip: Light can pull a hole out from under her dress, giving her a personal wormhole to any place within her sightlines. Weakness: Light can't place her exit hole on any objects made of Iron or Silver. Super Strength: Light has superhuman strength due to her Faye powers. Weakness: Light's strength is reduced when in contact with Iron and drastically reduced when in contact with Silver, or when hitting objects made of Iron or Silver. Skills: Light is familiar with quite a few things due to having to grow up alone on the streets, but doesn't have mastery over anything worth mentioning. She does learn quite fast however, when she isn't fooling around. Equipment: None, Light stores random things in her Pocket Space though. Ranking: A (Optional) Brief History: Light was an orphan that grew up on the streets of LA, making a living using her powers more for the entertainment of others than anything. One day the government took notice and took her in, Light being a big help with the downfall of Aperture. For the past few years the government has made Light into a pop star to try to foster better relationships with metas and non metas, while still using her unique powers to stop terrorists or the like.</s> <\|message\|>Ian Sebastian Lyone Sebastian turned his head to give Ellen a cheery, if mocking smile, as if she had just told a bad joke, and he was doing it just to be polite. "Well then, if it isn't two of my favorite people in the world. How are you today, Issac, still enjoying your romanticized delusions about what the Underground's all about? And Ellen, if you can tell me with absolute honesty that you didn't feel just the tiniest bit of satisfaction and pleasure when you killed all those people after you hit rock bottom in your acting career, I might consider what you said to be less than hypocritical. Besides, the pleasure I get from torture and murder is like the pleasure an avid gamer gets from beating a hard level, or a professional athlete gets from scoring the winning goal. It's intoxicating, invigorating, and satisfying, but never sexual." Sebastian chuckled a little more, before a pondering expression overtook his features. "However, I myself have never had a genuine sexual urge in my life, so maybe the pleasure of self-satisfaction is the closest I'll ever get to experiencing such a thing." He shrugged his soldiers before turning his attention back to Issac. "So big guy, up for a spar. I promise that I won't kill or cripple you." He looked and sounded sincere enough, but then again, Sebastian always sounded sincere in every promise he's ever made, and has yet to keep a single one. Taking the blood sphere in his hands, he quickly shaped it into a small dagger, which he proceeded to have float around the room in a slow, somewhat menacing fashion. His blood constructs were able to move rather quickly, which means he could launch the projectile at anyone in the room and kill them(except for Nancy unless he got a headshot) before anyone else could react. And the thing is, he was very likely to do just that, for no other reason but he wanted to, but he wouldn't. Ellen was wrong when she thought the kill is what gave Sebastian the most pleasure, that was just the result. No, he liked to torture, to enrage, to mess with people and manipulate them into the palm of his hands. He didn't do that hear very much because Edge gad promised him as many toys as he wanted as long as he stayed. A good deal to him, so he didn't try to be someone else here. he showed his true face, and didn't care how other's felt about it. In fact, the more they hated him, the better he felt. Sebastian was like in that way, a very dangerous child, but a child none the less. Let's see, we have Issac the mutated Romeo-tragedy who lost his love and so, to avenge her, decided to join a group of murders and criminals, thinking that what we do will bridge the gap between Metas and humans, Ellen, a whiny former starlet with a strong-will, and Nancy, the clumsy, zombie making enigma. Basically, we've got an easy target, a moderately difficult one, and then the unknown, hmm, and our leader whose probably just as crazy as i am. I've seen the way he acts when he kills those Meta haters, the difference between us is marginal at best. He's just likes to discriminate, while I'm an equal opportunity psychopathic murderer. Snickering to himself, he called the blood-dagger back to him and turned it into a flue, solidifying hit so he could blow into it. he wasn't even trying to play it either, he was just blowing into it to create an annoying, high-pitch sound just to piss off everyone in the room. When Sebastian isn't on the job and gets bored, this is basically the whole of what he does: Torturing a bunch of people in his room or annyoing the crap out of the rest of the Movement.</s> <\|message\|>Emile King The Zombie --- The Fresh Heralds looks down at their weapons in confusion. They didn't shoot, and they were supposed to shoot, but they weren't functioning. Upon closer inspection, they'd realize their tools had been sabotaged by an unknown assailant that seemed to be some reformist kid talking speeches about things the zombies were practically programmed to disregard. Throwing away their primary weapons, they each drew a pistol, only to have more knives thrown at them. The police officer seemed a lot more agile with a gun, a likely reminiscence of his life before being a Herald and would manage to shoot the knife despite its enhancement, barely deriving it. The other one took it to the should, but almost shrugged it off as he unloaded toward Ian, and consequently, to the panicking people riled up. The masked Heralds took the knives but acted as if they weren't hit at all. Even with damage to the knee, they walked more or less fine. They dropped the bodies they were carrying at the sounds of gunshots, however and simply started jogging toward the panicked masses and in the middle of the roads. It would quickly be revealed that they'd be wearing explosive vests, the kinds prepared specifically for genocides (considering they're likely slow down good infantry). In various corners, they'd quickly detonate themselves no matter the interruption. They had to kill as many as possible like fanatics. The remaining two would do their best to at least handle Ian before the civilian fresh Herald would detonate himself in hopes to take out Ian while the Officer would attempt an escape. The van stocked with a few bodies would of course take off during this entire dramatic scene. --- Nancy always kept a pretty upbeat smile all the time, like a well trained secretary doing her best to handle customer service. However, whenever Sebastian would come in and blather on about his exploit and desires, she'd have the most over-exaggerated frown depicting just how upsetting his monologues could be. Her hand was slowly reaching into one of her drawers, blatantly making it obvious she was reaching out of a weapon as she rattled through the junk in there, taking all his monologue time to actually get what she wanted. Suddenly, she slammed a machete onto her desk, severing her right hand in the process. It already leaked black blood almost everywhere, but she seemed completely unfazed by it. She'd toss the hand on Sebastian's face and revert to her usual smiling stance. "Here you go Sebastian! Yes yes! You definitely know how to spray my blood on them right?!" She he spun on her spinning chair, only noticing now the message sent by Edge through the radio as she was in her little fantasy world of chopping off her own member. She quickly grabbed the mic of said radio and replied. "Y-yes sir! Yes yes I am super duper fine, with all my buddies, thank you! I hope the operation was an absolute success!" She said nervously, he feet sporadically stomping the ground as she replied to the leader. She jumped out of her chair, her arm pissing blood all over the office floor and furniture. She only acknowledged her two buddies from the underground, buddies she sure wished she could blow the guts out off to turn into Heralds of course. Randomly, she froze into position, for absolutely no reason. She was in deep thought, but her posture made her seem like she was frozen in place. She'd let all the events fly by her head, as if she pushed everyone away from her mind before snagging a bag of what seemed to be cheetos on an unopened box near her desk. "Hey! To celebrate, anyone wants to have some good ol' Cheetos?! They're greeeat! I made them myself you know?" She'd open the plastic to let the aroma of the treats invade the near vicinity. Approaching Ellen of all people, she'd wave the sack of cheetos right in front of her face like some kind of leech trying to devour the famous woman's face. Cheetos were just flinging out of the bag and rubbing against her face. It was almost as if she was treating Ellen like some kind of imagined animal she fed, but all the food would drop down. The cheetos were of course, poisoned with a toxin capable of killing pretty much anyone who simply ate one of those. "Mmmmm some good cheetos aye Ellen? Do you like cheetos? Mmmm I love cheetos! C'mon, delicious cheetos..." Though no matter the response, she'd rinse and repeat, next stop was Sebastian and she'd give the same scene she did with Ellen to the psychopath. Hopefully, he'd eat it and fall into cardiac arrest, finally getting rid of his constant monologues. And finally, the giant ugly man she just wished should mutilate and turn into something super awesome like a giant Herold. Her dialogue would change however with Isaac as she had other ideas roaming his mind concerning him. "Isaac! These Cheetos are the best, mmmm! If you eat one I'll fix you up and make you look the way you've always wanted, yes yes!" She said with so much glee, but it'd be almost a known fact that giving one's life in the hands of Nancy would be a death sentence, or at least a forfeit of any freedom they had. Plus her attempts in killing pretty much anyone would be under more blatant forms more often the naught. Her favorite maneuver being to try and shoot someone with a shotgun, missing, and flying backwards with the recoil. Luckily for everyone, she'd be way too much of an incompetent klutz to actually kill anyone. Though, there shouldn't be any confusion, she'll turn anyone into a Herald if given the correct circumstance.</s>	<\|message\|>Light After both having no answer from the masked man, the guy running away and Light giving chance, Light saw a large group of the same people running towards the streets. She noticed another reformist there, Ian, who Light hadn't seen in some time having spent a good amount of time overseas. He was also dealing with these masked thugs, and from the looks of the knives on the ground, had tried to attack them but failed as he was attacked by two of them with a third running at him, breaking away from the group that Light was chasing. "Well, if they're going to be openly hostile..." Light said, grabbing a black glob from under her dress. When she let go of the glob, it turned into a shadowy portal which Light entered, popping out between Ian and the charger, punching said charger causing it to explode in her face, turning her black as if she was covered in ash and causing one of her arms to go flying in Ian's direction. "Really? REALLY?" Light said, exhaling a large cloud of smoke as she was momentarily stunned from the explosion, shaking it off after a few moments. Noticing her missing arm was by Ian's feet, she called to him. "Hey Ian, mind giving me my arm? It kinda hurts when your missing a limb." When she was all fixed up, she'd tell Ian that she'd go after the masked Heralds going at the civillians, groaning at having to set off so many explosives in her face.</s>
<\|description\|>Light Alias(s): Light Age: 24 Affiliations: Heroes Factions: Reformists. Description: Light wears no costume, and fights in her civilian cloths if you can call them that. Light is a 5"5 tall female humanoid with cartoonish looking features including an overly large round head with no nose and very large eyes, fin-like ears, skinny biceps with large forearms and hands which have sharp fingers. She has a more exaggerated hourglass shape with large hips, with her legs ending in sharp points where her feet should be. She wears a blue and white sleeveless dress that has an M cut in the front to show her legs. She has pure white skin, short blue hair, and black eyes with orange iris'. Powers: Adaptive Total Regeneration: Light can regenerate from any injury except atomization, even supernatural ones such as having her soul split and the like. Additionally after regenerating from an injury, Light will gain resistance to that type of injury, her body changing texture to show what she is resistant to. This temporary resistance goes away after a couple of hours. Weakness: Light can't adapt to injuries caused by Iron or Silver. Contact with Iron causes a mild burning sensation while contact with Silver causes violent bursts of flame. These injuries can lead to atomization, causing Light to die and respawn at a random site after awhile with a bit of a memory loss depending on what she was killed by. Atomization without iron/silver does almost nothing while Iron does a little and Silver can do quite a bit. Naturally this psuedo immortality has made Light very careless in combat, at least when Silver isn't involved. Energy Siphon: Light passively steals energy from whatever she is touching. She can't control this effect at all, however the more damaged she is, the more energy she leeches from things. Weakness: Light can't siphon energy from objects made of Iron or Silver. Pocket Space: Light can store objects in a small pocket dimension under/behind her dress. Weakness: Light can't store objects made of Iron or Silver. Void Slip: Light can pull a hole out from under her dress, giving her a personal wormhole to any place within her sightlines. Weakness: Light can't place her exit hole on any objects made of Iron or Silver. Super Strength: Light has superhuman strength due to her Faye powers. Weakness: Light's strength is reduced when in contact with Iron and drastically reduced when in contact with Silver, or when hitting objects made of Iron or Silver. Skills: Light is familiar with quite a few things due to having to grow up alone on the streets, but doesn't have mastery over anything worth mentioning. She does learn quite fast however, when she isn't fooling around. Equipment: None, Light stores random things in her Pocket Space though. Ranking: A (Optional) Brief History: Light was an orphan that grew up on the streets of LA, making a living using her powers more for the entertainment of others than anything. One day the government took notice and took her in, Light being a big help with the downfall of Aperture. For the past few years the government has made Light into a pop star to try to foster better relationships with metas and non metas, while still using her unique powers to stop terrorists or the like.</s> <\|message\|>Clementine Mercer. Clementine Mercer --- "You remember the plan right?" The man beside her growled. His voice was like a gravel path on her ears. Harsh and imposing. Clementine nodded complacently and smiled as much as she dared without drawing more of his ire. Being the new gal in the group wasn't exactly easy. Especially when that group was an organized cadre of burglars and thieves. In the back of the delivery truck, they waited as they drove to their destination. Clementine's breath was caught in her throat every time they slowed down. Every moment was spent looking at the door and waiting for it to fly open and reveal the police just waiting for her. Waiting to take her away to jail. She shook every now and then, and her tongue felt heavy. Her skin was crawling with goosebumps and her heart beat hard. Her chest felt like it was going to collapse with how hard her heart was beating. The impatient snapping of the man beside her brought her back into the moment and away from her fears. "Okay, well if you remember, then tell me your part, Snow." Snow. The callsign she had picked for her. Because she was very pale. And because she was 'fragile'. She thought nothing of it at first, but now she could feel the bite that the name had intended to have. She stammered for a moment, brushing some of her ghostly-white hair out of her face and cuffing it behind her ear. "I... uh, I am running bags. That is all. I am a bagman. I don't talk. I don't act. I follow, I stay low and I carry the bags." The man looked at her as she read all this off, like a practiced speech. He was nodded slowly. She was right. Keep calm, keep quiet, carry bags. That was all she had to do. They had drilled that into her enough by now that she could remember. That and she had worked hard to get into this crew so quickly, on such short notice, that she would lose her mind if she forgot. "Good. You've remembered well. It'll be over before you know it and then we'll all be sitting pretty back by ourselves. Just a little bit richer." He smiled at that and looked to the others. They were smiling too. She didn't recognize them, they had already pulled on their masks, but there were six of them including herself and the man beside her. Small team for a small part of a bigger scheme. "We're not far out now," The man beside her, Woody, with the cowboy hat and ski-mask on, said with that same impatient tone, "We'll be there in just a bit longer, so make your last preparations." He stood for a moment to check his outfit and look over the others, holding an object out to Clementine without even looking at her. It was a handgun. What kind, she wasn't sure. It was boxy and black. That was all she knew. She had seen something like it in gangster and crime movies. She knew how to use a gun. Don't touch the trigger unless you want to shoot, point the loud end at the bad people. Simple enough. She took it slow and put it in the shoulder holster she was provided with, along with the two magazines that were already there strapped to her chest. Clementine sat in silence for most of the trip there, fiddling with her mask out of anxiousness. Her heart was in her throat and going strong when Woody came back and clasped a hand on her shoulder. "Stay low and stay close, Snow. We've just got to get in and get out. No troubles if we stick to the plan." She nodded once more and pulled her plain black ski-mask over her head. It was going to happen and it was going to happen soon. She was ready. Disneyland, here she comes.</s> <\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya Aya had floated through the past two days in a fog. She went to classes, did her work, clocked in at the bookstore, but not matter what she did or where she went, all she could see were her stars, dancing just past her eyes. She'd managed to not use her power for over a year before that incident with the knight. She'd been content to tiptoe around this city like a minefield, keeping her secret. But now someone knew. But he'd seemed like a good sort… the kind who would respect her secret. Besides, who was to say they'd ever meet again? As noticeable as he was in that armor, he wouldn't be difficult to avoid if she needed to. Empty reassurances circled her mind for two days straight, but she still jumped at every sound, still saw blood-splattered churches with lifeless bodies resting on the pews. She hadn't used her power once since the incident, but Aya still saw her stars. She was walking from the campus to the metro station so she could cross the city to her work. The street was oddly quiet today, the crowd thinner than usual, and Aya glanced around, nervous. Something had to be going on. But then she heard an odd, metallic-tinged voice echoing through the city. Someone was speaking into microphone, too far away for Aya to properly make out the words. At least, until she heard one word in particular: Metas. Despite her better judgement, Aya found herself moving towards the voice, and the closer she got the thicker the crowds became. She'd forgotten that Mayor Martinez was holding some sort of press conference on Metas after the massacre. Light, some big name Reformist was back in town, and people needed to feel secure. She saw what looked like a glowing cloud-bird before she saw the mayor's building, and the blatant display of power almost made her hesitate. It seemed to be putting the people around her on edge too, but Aya pushed on, beaconed by a morbid sort of curiosity. A giant projector screen was propped up before the steps of the office, showing the mayor inside, flanked by Light and who Aya assumed to be other Reformists. "And I have full faith," he went on, "That General Smoak and the Reformists, along with the Los Angeles Police Department, are doing everything possible to ensure the safety of this city and its people." A lukewarm applause sounded throughout the crowd, as reporters inside pushed forward to ask their questions. Aya just sunk further away, telling herself she needed to hurry up and get to work, but unable to move her feet.</s> <\|message\|>Aiko Fujiwara Aiko yelled at Eli as she was pulled away. The kids were okay but she wanted to be with Eli. "Hey Eli-san!. Eli!" She yelled over the roar of the crowsds having fun. She was suspecting something as the kids took her around the corner. But what would happen this is Disneyland, with first class security and attentive security people. What would happen? It was Aiko was thinking that she was punched in the face. At first she could not beleive it. Then another punch, and another. Aiko began to fight back she grabbed a girl near her and broke her left arm. A boy neaby had his knee kicked and turned the other direction with a sickening snap. Aiko bit one girl's ear, clawed at another boy, knocked out one girl. But these kids kept punhing her she fought as hard as she could but even the kids with broken limbs kept punching her there was one final punch. Aiko fell back and the world fell black. She had been able to try and take the memories of the kids. One would not even know who she was.</s>	<\|message\|>Light Lucas, one of the new metas to the Reformists, sorta made Light feel a bit uneasy with his constant flirting. She had only known him for the past couple days, but apparently his amorous knew no bounds if it related to anyone of the opposite gender. It was flattering in a way, due to Light looking cartoonish yet threatening due to her proportions and thus not really hit upon by many people. She would've found it charming, if Lucas didn't flirt with everyone constantly, plus his age didn't help much either. This lead to a pretty awkward limo ride with Lucas sitting next to Light, trying to hit on her on occasion, and her trying to push his attention elsewhere. When they got to the press conference near city hall, Light was happy to get out of the limo and made her way into the building much faster than was necessary, noticing the cloud above them and making a note to keep an eye on it. When she got inside the building, a greeter got her attention and lead her to the mayor, who shook her rather large hand vigorously with a smile on his face. "Glad you could make it Light. These past few days haven't been very good for public morale, so I hope the fact that having you back in the city should help matters." He said, guiding her to a seat.</s>
<\|description\|>Elijah Craigh Alias(s): None given to him yet. Age: 27 Affiliations: Mercs Description: Elijah is a simple man, preferring jeans and boots over suits although he does own one. He does however tend to favor somewhat nice button up shirts with the sleeves rolled just below the elbows. His style of dress matches well with ruggedly handsome face. Adorned with dark hair and even darker eyes. He owns a blue and white motorcycle jacket that he can be seen wearing more often than not. In costume he is still of the simple minded. A Red carbon fiber, full faced helmet with a slim profile and black eyes covers his head. A black long sleeve combat shirt with red and yellow flaming dragon across the chest. Integrated with split armor plates across his torso, this provides just as much mobility as it does protection. His bottom half his covered in jeans and black combat boots. His hands are clothed in combat gloves as well. Simple yet effective. His 5'11 frame is covered by a lean 200 pounds worth of muscle and organs. While heavy you would never expect it. Even upon close close inspection one would think he'd he was closer to 180 pounds. A lean athletic frame that is built more on running and endurance than it is through brute power. Powers: Erupting/Burning body: His primary ability to envelop his body in fiery plasma without harm to himself, in which form he is able to fly by providing thrust behind himself with his own flame, and to generate powerful streams and/or balls of flame. He can also manipulate his flame in such a way as to shape it into rings and other forms. Even when not engulfed in flame himself, Elijah has the ability to control any fire within his immediate range of vision, causing it to increase or decrease in intensity or to move in a pattern directed by his thoughts. Additionally, he is able to absorb fire/plasma into his body with no detrimental effects. He has shown the ability to detect heat signatures (infra-red vision) The plasma field immediately surrounding his body is sufficiently hot enough to vaporize projectiles that approach him, including but not limited to bullets. He does not generally extend this flame-aura beyond a few inches from his skin, so as not to ignite nearby objects. Elijah refers to his maximum flame output as his "nova flame," which he can release omnidirectional. Flame of any temperature lower than this cannot burn or harm him. This "nova" effect can occur spontaneously when he absorbs an excessive amount of heat, although he can momentarily suppress the release when necessary, with considerable effort. Storm can also direct momentary beams of "nova heat" as a weapon. Elijah has demonstrated enough control that he can hold a person while in his flame form without his passenger feeling discomforting heat. His knowledge extends to general information about fire as well. In one instance when poisoned, Elijah superheated his blood to burn the toxin out. Elijah ability to ignite himself is limited by the quantity of oxygen in his environment, and his personal flame has been extinguished by sufficient quantities of water, flame retardant foam, and vacuum environments.He can reignite instantly once oxygen is returned, with no ill effects. He can however only ignite certain parts of his body. A hand, foot, or any other limb as the situation needs. There are however many limitations that come with his powers. Elijah does have a time limit on the use of his powers. For example in his full body he has a maximum time limit of 3 to 5 minutes. This time limit however grows exponentially when only using a single limb such as hand or a foot, meaning around 30 minutes. This time is lessened when he goes full Nova. Both is Erupting form and his full Nova form cause some level of stress on his body. If he pushes too hard he could pass out. Another problem he has, would be a lack of oxygen. His eruption form could be used indoors or underground but not without risk. His Nova forms burn oxygen up so quickly, that hes been left lying on the floor, gagging. Even outside he has to be cautious, because he can harm his allies with oxygen deprivation just as much as your enemies. Just being close to Elijah can be very draining. Skills: Through years of hard work, a little stupidity and some help from military. Elijah has cultivate a massive skill set in hand to hand combat, and small arms combat. His close to midrange marksmanship skills are top notch, though he leaves something to be desired in long range shooting. So long as the vehicle doesn't have much in the way of computers Elijah can serve as an above average mechanic. Much more skilled in motorcycles than cars. This holds true in his ability to ride a motorcycle as opposed to driving a car. Equipment: Seeing as his powers are based strictly on the amount oxygen. Elijah has a couple of secondary weapons. An FNP .45 Tactical, three spare clips and two pocket knives. One a straight edge lock blade the other is a more tactical weapon, a fixed blade with a tanto tip and a serrated blade. Ranking: Rank A that can rise to an S</s> <\|message\|>Zachery Talbot Zachery stared over at the mock battle "I can think of a few reasons." He said, watching the insanity going on down the beach with a mixture of disbelief and quiet wonder. Was that I pirate ship? "This could be someones idea of a good time, but if that were the case you'd think we'd remember being brought into it. Someone might be trying to protect us from something. This might be meant to keep us complacent while something happens to us in the 'real world.' Like..." He felt another one of those headaches come on as a brief flash of red and pain fluttered through his head. "Urgh, like, perhaps we were in an accident and are in recovery somewhere. I've heard of a hospital in New York that uses a meta to create shared dream states between comatose patients and their doctors. Or we could be on the move, being transported from one place to another. Worst case scenario, someone might being doing something to our bodies. Oh, but there are so many. There are so many people here, how would you even get all these people? We don't even know if all of them were real." He knew at least one other person here was from real life, Max. Jake was able to add the huts to the beach, so that meant he was real as well. "I don't think we should go around telling everyone that they might be stuck in the Matrix, you know? It could catch the attention of whoever put us here, but I'm going to at least try and warn my friend. You have anyone you want to tell? We could take that." He says, pointing to the buggy. "The keys are in the ignition, and it's super fast."</s> <\|message\|>Lizzie Fair "Hey!" shouted Eden, transformed back into a human, at Cer, "I just rescued that guy!" And with that, he began running towards the jungle, surprisingly fast for someone who was using their body - or a computer stimulation of a body - for the first time. Once he reached Cer's position, he would begin panting, then place his hand on a nearby tree, absorbing the plant matter into himself; turning it into slurry that was sucked up into his body. Then, he went on the empty space left by the tree...and transformed into one himself, a majestic apple tree out of place in the (partly smoking) tropical jungle, its branches weighed down with dozens of fruit. The boy then said telpathically: <Pick one and feed it to the man over there; that ought to heal his body.> Cer stared at the boy her eyes emotionless, she didn't care much for Kuro's well being at this point. She watched as the boy turned into the tree, again without emotion, to be fair she was very fed up. For a while she ignored it but something gave her the feeling that if she didn't do something that kid would bother her again. "I don't need your dumb fruit powers, I could heal him if I wanted to but I don't. He doesn't deserve it and he wouldn't die anyway, they won't let him because they'd lose the other two as well." She was more than a bit snappy but her resolve weakened and she decided to heal him, she did it herself though, just out of spite. If a tree can convey sadness and dismay, Eden did that by having his branches fall lower than usual, before turning away from Cer. <I was just trying to help>, he said sullenly. "If you are looking for sympathy you're not going to get much from me." She growled before softening a little and healing Kuro with a tap to the forehead, before returning to the issue she had been mulling over since she met this kid. He was responding independantly from the system so he wasn't computer generated but she could tell somthing was off, he wasn't comepletely real, it put her even more on edge. "Whenever you feel like not being a tree we can talk about who you really are." Eden, in response, transformed back into a human, making sure to include his swim trunks in the transformation. He then said: "My name is Eden, Eden McFadden. I am the son of Jaden McFadden and..." he shuddered, a sense of...hatred and fear overcoming him, "...Isabella Lancaster, with a Surrogate Mother, Cindy Wade." His mind was struck by needles of pain, as if there was a prickly wall of sharp bristles blocking him from...something." He then stared at her eyes. "No...No...I shouldn't be out of the womb yet; why am I here?..." Cer looked at him curiously before chuckling darkly, "That's a damn good question, I can't answer it though. Keep asking yourself those questions and you'll find a world of trouble." She stood and scanned the sky lines for the destruction at the beach, worried it would come find them. "I don't want trouble..." spoke Eden, "but at the same time..." he inhaled and exhaled deeply, still in indecision. "I'm curious. But if you don't want me bothering you, then I won't. I'll go back to my father." Then, a thought came to him. "Father...he has this strange urge to eat people, doesn't he? Can you heal him of that, too?" Cer was about to tell him to do whatever he wanted because she didn't care and apologize for her behavior in the most indirect and confusing way possible because any other way would really be admitting that she was wrong. However she was distracted by the boy's request, "I could try but the brain is a tricky thing, one synapse off and the repurcussions could be devastating." She shrugged, "I'd need his explicit permission and even then that kind of work makes me uncomfortable." "Understood," spoke Eden, carrying Kuro over his shoulder with surprising strength. "Why don't we go over there and get his permission, then?"</s> <\|message\|>Jake Anyone he wanted to tell? It didn't take Jake very long to run through the list of people he might want to inform. The list of people he actually gave a crap about in this world or any other was a short one indeed. First and foremost were his family. Or at least the family he had back when he was a man. But he had a feeling they wouldn't be here. He hoped they weren't. He didn't want them wrapped up in the weirdness that was his life. Then there were a few other people who had been nice to Jake since his transformation. He thought about the woman who took him in for a brief period of time after his transformation. She had a kind heart. She gave a sad dog a place to sleep and a good meal, even though she didn't know him. Her kids were nice too, even if the teenager was a bit obnoxious. But again, he hoped they weren't here. They hadn't exactly parted on the best of terms. Jake had let his temper get the better of him when the woman's boyfriend came around. He was a jerk and didn't deserve her or her family. Jake had let him know this. Of course he came out looking like a savage animal and scared everyone he was trying to protect. He had run away after that, even though the youngest boy had begged him not to go. Just the memory of that boys face broke Jake's heart every time he thought of it. But there was someone else Jake thought about. Someone who Jake actually hoped was here, just so he could see a friendly face. "There's a girl..." Jake told Zachary "Her name's...Aya...She's always been nice to me." He let out a sigh and added "If anyone I know found themselves wrapped up in this mess it'd be her...Girl has a way of attracting trouble."</s>	<\|message\|>Elijah Craigh Eli turned to Jim while running as they heard Legion speak in one voice. "I find that so creepy when they do that." Eli turned his back and shouted "You'll never catch me Copper, nah!" Eli said in a mock Chicago gangster like voice. "Not the time for jokes E.C. fix this now!" Jim said with a hint of frustration. "I got this!" Eli sent an explosion to the ground, causing an eruption of sand to fly high. Covered by the sand flying, Eli slapped Jim on the chest to get his attention, and pointed into the jungle. Together they ran as hard as they could into the jungle after they waited till they were fully covered by the jungle to make a move and go into hiding. Step after step they were slowed till Eli made his move, he spotted a tree perfect for climbing however the first branch was too high for a single person to reach. Eli sprinted forward and then crouched down two one knee, Jim Harper without a moments thought used the lower Eli to elevate himself to rather high slung branch. With Jim hanging from the branch, Eli used Jim's body to climb up into the tree. They helped each other climb the tree and gain as much ground vertically. They when got what they thought was a safe distance both of them stopped, as they sat in the tree both of them couldn't help but smile, they both wanted to laugh. Both of them wanted laugh in such a bad way, the sheer insanity of the situation was hitting both of them. This had to be a joke. A dead man was sitting in a tree with a guy who controlled fire, being chanced by a guy who can make hundreds of copies of himself. The sight was just short of a 'two jews walk into a bar.'</s>
<\|description\|>Olivia Octavia Delacroix Alias(s): Stellar, Starshine Age: 21 Affiliations: Heroes Factions: Reformists / International Heroes Standing at about five foot, eight inches, you can immediately tell by looking at Olivia that she leads a healthy lifestyle. She looks healthy, well-defined and is rather good-looking. Of course, that wouldn't be possible if she wasn't a more combat orientated Meta and if her time as an International Hero didn't teach her that she has to be fit and ready for any challenge. Her hair is a light shade of brown and her eyes are an intense green. She's one of those people who could smile and light up a room - a sure sign that her career so far hasn't been fraught with scarring situations. Overall, she looks like a hero but is pretty enough to gain a rather large male fan-base. Clothing: Powers: Possibly one of the reasons why our species have survived up until this point is our innate ability to spot patterns. So good is this ability that we even spot patterns where there aren't any real patterns. Ever since we even developed intelligent-thinking, humanity has been looking up to the stars and finding patterns to suit a certain deity or maybe even a hero that was immortalised in the stars. They have been our way to guide ourselves but also our way to cement our culture into the surrounding universe. Olivia's powers are the physical manifestation of these immortalised patterns in the stars. Strangely, she can take a pattern of stars that humanity has linked with a certain hero or being and then adopt the powers of that hero or being. This ability is possibly one of the strangest known to man, considering that star constellations aren't ingrained in our genes. In fact, they're not even part of the world around us like things such as fire or illusions. Star constellations are a man-made construct but somehow, Olivia has been able to utilise them. Up to now, she has only mastered three constellations. These constellations or forms are summoned by drawing the pattern in the air with a special tool that she had developed specifically for the role. Pyxis itself was the first constellation that Olivia mastered, primarily because of its rather simple design and nature. Pyxis is Latin for mariner's compass but this strangely does not give her the great power to navigate the oceans with utmost efficiency. In fact, it isn't really a combat constellation at all. This constellation gives Olivia the ability to see the logical route through a problem even when she could be blinded by anger or need. It allows her to make informed decisions on any real matter. Although this might be useful for getting out of sticky situations, the International Heroes put it to use in peace talks in the Middle East and surprisingly, it worked exceptionally well. Olivia could broker a deal between two sides that suited both sides just by knowing some background on the situation and being able to safely discuss terms of peace with warring sides. It was Pyxis that garnered her the adoration of peace-loving people around the world. She was even momentarily a candidate for the Nobel Peace Prize but it went to another. Nevertheless, she had gained the attention of the world and the Heroes capitalised on that to bolster their image. She rose high in the group, quickly becoming a spokeswoman for them and a part-time figurehead of the peace movement before other heroes began to sign up. Orion was the second constellation she mastered and the very first combat constellation. She would have never learned it if she hadn't of realised that she desperately needed it. When she was travelling around the Middle East, bringing together fractured sides and propagating peace, her helicopter was brought down out of the sky by a MANPAD. Because she was the only meta present and her healing powers were above normal, she somehow survived the crash while the rest of her party died. If that ordeal wasn't enough, she was captured by those who shot her helicopter down and taken to a nearby cave-system. It appeared that she was going to die - they had warned of an execution but surprisingly, they didn't want any form of pay-out. They were going to kill her and nothing could reverse that. It was at the scene of her execution that her powers, seeking self-preservation, flared and activated the Orion Constellation. Although she couldn't use the bow that formed in front of her, the stellar-energy hunting dogs tore the throats out of her captors and allowed her to escape. After that, she chose to learn Orion just for protection but it allowed her to adapt to a combat-orientated Meta. Lepus was the third and final constellation she has learned to date. Her choice of this constellation was not only because it was rather easy to learn but it's also a more mobility-based power, allowing her to run at exceptional speeds and do small blinks, which for a normal person processing things at a normal pace, would look like she's jumping to a spot at a pace that causes her form to blur. With this power, she gains a great understanding of her surroundings, allowing her to escape harm by utilising any escape route. Basically, she becomes a parkour-master when she activates this constellation. Weaknesses: With great powers come a great amount of weaknesses. First and foremost is her need to have a direct connection to the stars. If she goes deep underground then her powers become non-existent and will only return when she returns to a more suitable depth. This applies to deep-sea diving as well. Another factor that can have a massive effect on her is the current light-levels. In low light-levels, her powers will be rather weak and she won't be as strong as usual. In high light-levels, such as a full moon, her powers become stronger. Her Achilles Heel is when she's changing forms. Most of her enemies freeze when they see her summoning the power of the stars but if they choose that moment to attack, they'd find that she was in a highly-weakened state with nothing to defend herself with. This has two different forms though - if she's moving from her normal state to a star-form then she'll simply be a little more weakened but if she's moving from one star-state to another then the pain she experiences becomes extremely amplified. A weak punch could have the potential to make her double over in pain while a directed Meta ability could be the most painful thing she's ever experienced. It varies. Skills: -Negotiations -Hand-to-hand combat -Parkour -Piloting -Persuasive skills Equipment: -Handy mobile phone -A small, pen-like object that emits a trail of light that allows her to draw her constellations with the utmost accuracy. Ranking: A (Optional) Brief History: (I've revealed some, I'll reveal more later)</s> <\|message\|>Nathan James Hunter Nate let out a long breath from his nose as Eli brought up his military service. "Well fancy that, Opie. You're not as dumb as you look" he said. He failed to elaborate on the subject though. Truth be told, it was a sore subject for Nate. He had pictured himself spending a lot more years in the military. He had planned on a career full of medals and promotions. General Hunter. That was the plan. But that all gone down the drain and here he was...A self defence coach. This was not where he had seen his life going. He tossed his apple up into the air, catching it over and over as he changed the subject "So what exactly is your plan here, Opie? Are you just going to eat all of this poor gals food? Drink all her wine? Maybe leave the toilet seat up?"</s> <\|message\|>Vince Ceilio Vince could have sworn there was a reason he should have woken up earlier today but he didn't realize until he checked the news and that boy wonder, Cedric, appeared all over the city spewing nonsense to his ears. He was sorry he hadn't been there to fight against the Heroes but it likely wouldn't have gone well for him. There were some people that a head to head face off would mean certain death for him. Oddly enough that fight wasn't the most exciting thing going on in Vince's world. Cer was in town and she hadn't found the camera he stationed in the pent house to monitor it, she was getting rusty. The idea of confronting her was laughable so he simply ignored it, she wasn't really a threat right now but he wanted them to talk to her before they had to fight each other or something. There was also the text from Isabella asking him to meet Camille which didn't sound super fun but he wasn't so lawless that he would ignore a direct order. He found himself wondering who the old enemy could be. Hopefully just one of the Movement's and not his own. Vince lived in a repurposed warehouse, it was nice because he didn't have to reign in his powers to keep people from following him like lost puppies or something. Plus it was very spacious, he had room for whatever he wanted and more. He had a spacious garage, a library that any book lover would die for, and a game room that came in handy whenever he got tired of reading. However, he was far away from most things and the outskirts Isabella was talking about were especially far. Too bad he couldn't fly. -A good twenty minuets later- He pulled up by Camille, annoyed with traffic he forced a much calmer manner on himself. He got out of the Car, offering a hand to Camille before shaking his head and muttering sorry, she could see that as him trying to use his powers which was rude of him. "I hope you don't take that as a sign of bad intent. I'm not entirely sure what we're doing but I can't wait for you to fill me in, assuming you know what this is about." He smiled using some natural charm, he honestly felt bad for her, rumor had it that she couldn't age past 16 so he refrained from using any kind of power. Despite his pity, he still found her childishness annoying, hopefully she'd try to be a bit more grown up this time around.</s> <\|message\|>Elijah Craigh Eli filled his glass and downed before refilling it. "Too much of anything is bad but too much whiskey isn't enough... Mark Twain." Eli said as he got up and walked into the kitchen. "I plan on eating her food, and trying to have a nice evening. Beyond that who am I to stand in the way of fate." Eli stared to rifle through what food was in the kitchen. He found a meal fit for a king, more than one if he was truth. The fact that he was again doing something he was against wasn't lost on him. It just made this all the more funny. With that he pulled out a stolen smart phone he got when no one was looking. One belonging to the very person who's apartment he and his new found buddy were inhabitants of. He played some music some classical music, starting with something classic. It was from there every step and motion he made had more than little funk to it. Who was he to denie the beat of the music. Fire was a wonderful thing. It's control on the other was downright blissful. It made cooking and dethawing food take only seconds. Four steaks each at different at different cooking temps ranging from Pittsburghed to well done. Grilled corn on the cob and baked potatos. An American meal fit for kings. He drank his whiskey and plated everything. Eli thought it looked half way decent. Something he could have ordered from a nice restaurant back home. As he drank the last bit in his glass and places all the food he cooked in the oven. Turning the oven on low, Eli grabbed an apple and was content to wait for whatever hell was coming his way. The apartment smelled wonderful. Meat and whiskey in air. He was enjoying with every second of it.</s>	<\|message\|>Olivia Octavia Delacroix Fortunately (or unfortunately for a certain two), Olivia had came down from her high and they had been snooping around in her place for far too long! Whenever she smelt the odd scent of burning, Olivia could just tell that she was more than likely going to be pissed off. She could make exceptions for Isabella Lancaster and to some extents, Ruby Greenfoot, but Elijah Craigh had no dark backstory to ammend his actions. No brutal murders nor tragic loss. Elijah Craigh was the worst of humanity and Olivia found herself having a very strong dislike of the man, even if he did save her. Why Cedric insisted on keeping scum like him around was a mystery to her but if she had her way, Elijah Craigh would be buried in the darkest cell she could find or at least somewhere where he wasn't annoying her. She was a very forgiving individual. Of course, his reputation with her skyrocketed as she was informed that they had to snip a part of her hair off due to burn damage. You can try to kill a girl. Hell, you can very nearly succeed in killing her but the moment you touch her hair, shit is going down. "Olivia, do go lightly on them, I do believe that they're innocent in terms of maturity levels." Olivia, however, was very firm on the task ahead of her. "Not now, Albert." She was suprisingly silent, showing just how angry she was - it was very likely that there would be a lot of injuries after she had her way. Moving past the old man, she ignored the fact that she was still clothed in her hospital gown and looking like she had just walked through Hell. Once she had equipped herself with a nearby wall-mounted fire-extinguisher, Olivia padded bare-footed into the elevator packed full of suit-donning who quickly parted for the unfeeling young woman who looked better suited as an assassin, nevermind a peace-maker. Getting into her apartment was fairly easy, considering she owned it but unfortunately for Nate, she entered just as he began speaking about the treasures he revealed upon entering her bedroom and snooping about. So now, the Reformists hired both perverts and murders. Great. Sighing softly, she stayed within the shadows of the hall where she was invisible to them and quickly activated Orion. The familiar rush of feeling her body strengthen and contract still proved to be quite exhilarating for Olivia, even if she was about to go and potentially murder two powerful Metas. She'd think about the potential part later, though. Humming softly, she kept the bow on her back and softly whistled for the two dogs formed at her sides. Everything happened in a rush as she moved into the kitchen, nonchantly equipping a kitchen knife which suddenly turned her from nice Olivia to not so nice Olivia. It was clear that Elijah was not the target with the knife as she turned towards Nate. With reactions that most would die for and an accuracy to match it, she flipped the knife up in the air, catching it on its point before propelling it towards Nate, or more specifically, Nate's nether region. Nate must have prayed particularly hard that day as the blade imbedded itself in the couch, only a lucky inch shy of his crotch. Giving him a rather impressed look, she whistled and nodded towards him, having her two imposing hounds circle Nate to make sure he didn't rush to Elijah's aid. Turning on the possibly stunned pyromancer and without uttering a single word, she raised the nossle of the fire-extinguisher and gripped the handle tightly, causing a bright blast of carbon dioxide to suddenly burst from the hose and force Elijah back a little. Elijah needed to hammer it into his thick, redneck skull that a fire needs oxygen to burn and carbon dioxide limits said oxygen. "Give me three reasons to stop and I'll possibly reconsider throwing you out of my window with your pervert friend over there, enfoiré."</s>
<\|description\|>Olivia Octavia Delacroix Alias(s): Stellar, Starshine Age: 21 Affiliations: Heroes Factions: Reformists / International Heroes Standing at about five foot, eight inches, you can immediately tell by looking at Olivia that she leads a healthy lifestyle. She looks healthy, well-defined and is rather good-looking. Of course, that wouldn't be possible if she wasn't a more combat orientated Meta and if her time as an International Hero didn't teach her that she has to be fit and ready for any challenge. Her hair is a light shade of brown and her eyes are an intense green. She's one of those people who could smile and light up a room - a sure sign that her career so far hasn't been fraught with scarring situations. Overall, she looks like a hero but is pretty enough to gain a rather large male fan-base. Clothing: Powers: Possibly one of the reasons why our species have survived up until this point is our innate ability to spot patterns. So good is this ability that we even spot patterns where there aren't any real patterns. Ever since we even developed intelligent-thinking, humanity has been looking up to the stars and finding patterns to suit a certain deity or maybe even a hero that was immortalised in the stars. They have been our way to guide ourselves but also our way to cement our culture into the surrounding universe. Olivia's powers are the physical manifestation of these immortalised patterns in the stars. Strangely, she can take a pattern of stars that humanity has linked with a certain hero or being and then adopt the powers of that hero or being. This ability is possibly one of the strangest known to man, considering that star constellations aren't ingrained in our genes. In fact, they're not even part of the world around us like things such as fire or illusions. Star constellations are a man-made construct but somehow, Olivia has been able to utilise them. Up to now, she has only mastered three constellations. These constellations or forms are summoned by drawing the pattern in the air with a special tool that she had developed specifically for the role. Pyxis itself was the first constellation that Olivia mastered, primarily because of its rather simple design and nature. Pyxis is Latin for mariner's compass but this strangely does not give her the great power to navigate the oceans with utmost efficiency. In fact, it isn't really a combat constellation at all. This constellation gives Olivia the ability to see the logical route through a problem even when she could be blinded by anger or need. It allows her to make informed decisions on any real matter. Although this might be useful for getting out of sticky situations, the International Heroes put it to use in peace talks in the Middle East and surprisingly, it worked exceptionally well. Olivia could broker a deal between two sides that suited both sides just by knowing some background on the situation and being able to safely discuss terms of peace with warring sides. It was Pyxis that garnered her the adoration of peace-loving people around the world. She was even momentarily a candidate for the Nobel Peace Prize but it went to another. Nevertheless, she had gained the attention of the world and the Heroes capitalised on that to bolster their image. She rose high in the group, quickly becoming a spokeswoman for them and a part-time figurehead of the peace movement before other heroes began to sign up. Orion was the second constellation she mastered and the very first combat constellation. She would have never learned it if she hadn't of realised that she desperately needed it. When she was travelling around the Middle East, bringing together fractured sides and propagating peace, her helicopter was brought down out of the sky by a MANPAD. Because she was the only meta present and her healing powers were above normal, she somehow survived the crash while the rest of her party died. If that ordeal wasn't enough, she was captured by those who shot her helicopter down and taken to a nearby cave-system. It appeared that she was going to die - they had warned of an execution but surprisingly, they didn't want any form of pay-out. They were going to kill her and nothing could reverse that. It was at the scene of her execution that her powers, seeking self-preservation, flared and activated the Orion Constellation. Although she couldn't use the bow that formed in front of her, the stellar-energy hunting dogs tore the throats out of her captors and allowed her to escape. After that, she chose to learn Orion just for protection but it allowed her to adapt to a combat-orientated Meta. Lepus was the third and final constellation she has learned to date. Her choice of this constellation was not only because it was rather easy to learn but it's also a more mobility-based power, allowing her to run at exceptional speeds and do small blinks, which for a normal person processing things at a normal pace, would look like she's jumping to a spot at a pace that causes her form to blur. With this power, she gains a great understanding of her surroundings, allowing her to escape harm by utilising any escape route. Basically, she becomes a parkour-master when she activates this constellation. Weaknesses: With great powers come a great amount of weaknesses. First and foremost is her need to have a direct connection to the stars. If she goes deep underground then her powers become non-existent and will only return when she returns to a more suitable depth. This applies to deep-sea diving as well. Another factor that can have a massive effect on her is the current light-levels. In low light-levels, her powers will be rather weak and she won't be as strong as usual. In high light-levels, such as a full moon, her powers become stronger. Her Achilles Heel is when she's changing forms. Most of her enemies freeze when they see her summoning the power of the stars but if they choose that moment to attack, they'd find that she was in a highly-weakened state with nothing to defend herself with. This has two different forms though - if she's moving from her normal state to a star-form then she'll simply be a little more weakened but if she's moving from one star-state to another then the pain she experiences becomes extremely amplified. A weak punch could have the potential to make her double over in pain while a directed Meta ability could be the most painful thing she's ever experienced. It varies. Skills: -Negotiations -Hand-to-hand combat -Parkour -Piloting -Persuasive skills Equipment: -Handy mobile phone -A small, pen-like object that emits a trail of light that allows her to draw her constellations with the utmost accuracy. Ranking: A (Optional) Brief History: (I've revealed some, I'll reveal more later)</s> <\|message\|>Lachlan Ragnarok "We're just friends and stuff." Loki said, arranging around with flowers. "This isn't our flower shop, but Tom and Claire are out right now, so I gotta put in some hours." He got up and stretched, catching some stray sunlight. He actually appreciated taking the day off to work in the flower shop, because he didn't really feel like doing anything more stressful than heavy lifting. He'd had enough hectic stuff from yesterday, not that he could say that. "So yeah, I haven't really done that much recently." Loki said. "Though I did see that thing with the monsters. It was on the news. Sometimes it just feels like real life is more like a movie than a movie is. Good thing real life isn't transformers, though." Loki counted the flowers that Light picked out, which was a whole lot. It was fine, because flowers grew back, but still a ton. It was good for the store, but also kind of worrying considering they were for condolences. It made Loki wonder just how many had died. Well, if he added the Hydra to the equation, he could get a pretty big number, but still. Also, the flowers were becoming 'cartoony', probably from contact with Light. "You're going to need a big bag for all of these." Loki said, taking them out of her hands and putting them on the counter. "So, how'd the fight go?"</s> <\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya watched as the sad girl ran off to find her sister. She turned to the boy and opened her mouth to say something when suddenly she swayed on her feet, feeling faint. The world around her tipped and it was all she could do to not pass out then and there. In this world she couldn't feel the effects of her injuries or exhaustion, but she could only stay here for so long. Without another word, she bent down to touch the dog. It wouldn't do to leave him stranded as a spirit. Snapping them both back into their bodies, Aya could no longer fight her body and fell asleep, still sitting on the floor and leaning against her bed.</s> <\|message\|>Jake Jake allowed Aya to pull him off of the boy, stepping back a few paces as she tried to pull. In truth he was glad of the opportunity to back up while still looking menacing. Not that the kid seemed to get the whole 'Dog can eat you' vibe he was trying to get across. Kuro's smile kind of bothered Jake. He didn't seem intimidated in the least. Maybe he was losing his touch. The weird crying girl ran off without any kind of explanation as to why she was crying, which only annoyed Jake even more. But from what the overly friendly kid had said, it seemed like he was responsible. Jake could fully understand that. He was pretty annoying. He just hoped he hadn't assaulted her like he had assaulted Jake. Jake quickly lost interest in that situation though when Aya started to sway on her feet. He leaned in towards her legs in an ultimately futile attempt to steady her. He knew it wouldn't work but he had to try anyway. Fortunately she didn't collapse in a heap and instead put a hand to his head. It was then that Jake found himself incredibly disoriented as he was snapped out of the room and back to his body. He felt slightly nauseated as the world around him shifted again. But this time the world regained it's color and he was finally back in his own body. His relief that he wasn't dead dead was quickly replaced by worry as he noted Aya's head droop. He sat up and nuzzled her head with her nose to check on her. After a moment he realised that she was simply asleep and he calmed. He'd let her sleep. She had had a long day. Hell, so had he. With a small yawn, Jake dropped his front paws over Aya's lap and lay his head down. Maybe he would try to get some sleep too.</s>	<\|message\|>Olivia Octavia Delacroix A basic recap of the events so far After deciding to trust Ruby Greenfoot and willingly accept any information she gave to him, Reformist leader Cedric Wessex learned of weaknesses and gaps in the infamous Underground Movement - a group which was nearly impenetrable. Cedric didn't react to this information until the Reformists later learned that the leader of the Underground Movement, Isabella Lancaster had successfully created a child and planted it in a surrogate mother, Cindy Wade. The twist was that the pregnancy would only last for two weeks before the baby was born and began to rapidly grow. Eden, as he would be called, had the powers to turn into a tree whose fruit could heal and grant powers to normal humans. Isabella desired to use this promise of power as a pawn so that she could subjugate the 'unnecessary' and highlight the intelligent and powerful. Cedric, desiring to seek some form of action, organised a board meeting of major Reformist metas including a one Olivia Delacroix, a delegate of the International Heroes. It was decided that they would attempt a process of peace before moving to an all-out assault if peace failed. The next day, Miss Delacroix secretly left the Reformist headquarters and made for the New Sun building, home of the Underground Movement. Once in, she began talks with Isabella Lancaster and although they appeared to be going good, she was shot and had to be rescued by Elijah Craigh. In the process, they smoked out a whole army of genetically engineered monsters. The Reformists, being led by an angry Cedric, had no choice but to meet this sudden appearance of an army with their own. A battle broke out in the surrounding streets and in the tunnels under the New Sun building. Cedric Wessex battled with a young meta and unfortunately lost the battle and an eye. With backup from Light, however, he made it out alive and enemy forces were pushed back. After a few more battles between the two forces, the assault was suddenly cut short by the strategic removal of Cindy Wade and demolition of the New Sun building by Ruby Greenfoot, who had lured Cedric in with information before surprising both the group that held her hostage and the group that had actually forgiven her. Thankfully, most of the Reformists made it out alive and casualties, although high, weren't as high as they should have been. The Underground Movement were forced to retreat with their tail between their legs as they lost two very powerful pawns in their war. The Movement were forced to take up residence in the old Avalon prison facility that had been abandoned by the government. Both groups are in the dark about the location of Ruby and Cindy but during recent days, the Reformists have sent out Scarlett Evermore to find Cindy and remove her from Ruby's custody. The Underground Movement, although wanting Cindy back, have other plans and intend to launch a counterattack to drive their enemy back so that they no longer become a problem. Unbeknownst to the Reformists, Lancaster has a card that she has yet to play that could change the very fate of the war. Only the higher echelons of the Movement know of this metaphorical card and the lower ranked just follow along with Isabella anyways. The attack is scheduled for precisely a week after the Reformist attack and as of yet, no intelligence has been leaked to suggest that an attack will even take place. According to most Reformist strategists, the Movement have retreated to try and recover their strength but they won't be back for a long time. They are very wrong. Seven days later This was probably Cedric's fault! He was a damn idiot and probably thought she was a liability so he had Elijah take up quarters only a few rooms down from Olivia. If that wasn't bad enough, the bastard seemed to have constant access to her room, not requiring the key that she thought only she had - another piece of evidence pointing towards Cedric. Anytime she would even get up to greet the morning, the pyromancer would be there with a snarky comment and breakfast. It all looked disgusting, anyways, like it had been plucked out of some shitty American diner in the middle of nowhere. As usual, on that morning as soon as Olivia left her bedroom, Elijah was waiting for her. Sighing softly, she did what she normally did and simply ignored him, brushing past his large stature and making her way to the coffee machine. She had found a way to piss him off in recent days - she simply hooked her iPod up to the speakers and played some pop music. Elijah was a classical sort of guy so whenever he heard the breath-taking beauty of songs such as 'Anaconda', he was more than likely pissed off. Of course, just to add a pinch of salt and then a whole bottle of vodka to his wound, she hummed along to the entire thing and even sang a few bits in broken French. Elijah hated that as well - there was never a translator on hand so technically, she could say whatever she wanted about him (or his mother) and he wouldn't know a thing about it. "Petite merde!" Her voice even threw him off a little - she sounded chirpy and almost affectionate. Olivia very much enjoyed pissing off Elijah Craigh.</s>
<\|description\|>Camille Mahroug Alias(s): Little Sunshine Age: 25 Affiliations: Mercenary Factions: Underground Movement Description: Black hair, light-brown eyes, elegant legs, an adorable 4'6" in height, what is there not to love about her? Perhaps it is her 11 year old body that may pose a problem to more than one individual. Camille is cursed with a body that doesn't age, meaning no developed chest, no well curved behind, nothing that makes a woman look as gorgeous as she'd wish to be. No amount of makeup would even compensate those glaring factors, but she still prays that more would eventually cover up those insecurities. In terms of clothes, she always tries to remain as fashionable as possible, as expected from a typical French girl. Powers: Senescence Camille's power gravitates around the ability to greatly influence the concept of aging in various ways via specific mediums, many of which cannot be performed without certain drawbacks and/or conditions. Originally her body was biologically incapable of aging at a normal rate, almost stopping at the age of 10 making her essentially immortal. This kind of condition wasn't unheard of and made her a prime candidate for Meta boosting. Aging Acceleration: Camille's most dangerous ability that involves aging anything through a duration she wills, going as far as near infinity and reducing almost anything to dust. This ability can only be applied via contact with her body and only the parts that touched her would age (however it will spread quickly through organic and inorganic material. It can only spread so much through inorganic, but organic bodies aren't massive enough to limit it). The best way to avoid being affected is to not have contact with the rotting material, and if you are affected, amputation is the key. Although still weak, she's able to apply her ability via another medium. One of her arms can be enveloped in a murky, purple substance that launches itself in the form of a stretchable arm of oozing smog. Whatever touches that product is submitted to the same aging process, however she isn't able to move when it is applied and it also weakens her for a long duration of time (it feeds off her blood quantities, thus weakening her in general. The more it is used, the worse it gets.) It can be cut or damaged, but can simply be reformed. Rejuvenation: The reversed effect of accelerated aging, however it does not necessarily reverse aging in its whole. In reality, it affects cells in a way that it forces them back into their prime. This comes with the effect of accelerated healing (in terms of hours, not minutes. Meaning a large wound will still stay just as bad, but will heal faster in the long run), reduction of intoxication efficiency as many poisons and diseases are flushed out by a powerful immune system and overall good shape. Camille is naturally affected by this all the time, however she is able to channel it to another individual (it only lasts for a short period). Movement Dilation: Her ability was inevitably engineered to be used as a useful weapon. Camille wields the ability to slow down whatever goes in a five meter radius of her. The effect isn't very significant, it actually plays out in fractions of a second, but it often enough for her to react and avoid potentially lethal hits. It must be activated in order to take effect, and if activated for too long, she'll start to lose her sense of orientation and quickly lose focus. Movement Lag: Finally, her key movement ability. She is able to reverse her dilation to affect her body directly, causing her movements to be ridiculously fast (near sound speed). But this is only limited to her entire body, meaning she cannot coordinate it specifically for punches or grabs for instance. Instead, she'll use it to move in great speeds to a point. That point must not have any obstacles and can be accessed in a straight line. The more she is prepared, the less taxing on her body it will be (like preparing for a race), meaning that last second dodges will strain her greatly. Why? Her body is submitted to an intense movement and she isn't capable of breathing in that speed, causing her muscles to suffer a whole lot. If she's really desperate, the result will end up being her body covered in searing soars. That and she isn't that buffed physically in general, making her one very fragile flower. Skills: -Champion gymnast -Excellent dexterity -Amateur dancer -Very quick learner (child's brain) -Talented deceiver thanks to her looks -Trained in hand-to-hand combat (by employers) Equipment: -A stolen handgun -White gloves specifically made to keep her aging abilities in check as she gets into contact with more or less anything. Ranking: A Brief History: Born in France, Camille was already considered exceptional with her apparent absence of aging. At first she deemed it "cool" but it eventually struck her greatly when all of her friends grew up normally while she didn't evolve physically and barely mentally. Though the schism with her parents remains more or less mysterious, she ended up being one of the many guinea pigs in the USA's medical research programs. Eventually this lead to her to meeting many greedy individuals who wanted nothing more than a piece of her immortality. Being paid mountains of gold, she was brought to different training and experimentation programs in the hopes of finding the solution many were just dying to find. Let's just say she was more weaponized than anything else in the process of cracking the secrets of her body. It didn't take long for her to end up indoctrinated in this 'fear of death' bullshit she was hearing about all the time by her employers. She ended up growing obsessed with that concept, the idea of her being able to choose whether she could choose when she'd die. This lead her to develop rather unusual needs (to be seen IC, pretty disturbing shit though). Once tired from them, she defected without really giving her bosses a choice.</s> <\|message\|>Jake As Zachary listed off the things around the beach, Jake looked around and mentally checked them all off a list. "Yep, they're all there" Jake confirmed. He wasn't really sure why this was so important to Zachary. Jake hadn't really paid much attention to the surrounding area until just now but Zachary seemed awfully concerned about it. "This place...there's something wrong. There might be some sort of ability at work." Zach told Jake, seemingly mirroring the suspicions Jake was having about this place. "Yeah, either that or we're dead" replied Jake with a chuckle. His expression quickly changed though as he actually thought about that. This place was a literal paradise. It had everything they could ever want or need. A shiver ran down the dogs spine and flashes of a memory ran through his mind. Memories of pain and blood. "Oh god" he said, barely louder than a whisper "Are we dead?" Chatterbox "Neat trick" Nate told Damien as the other man absorbed the energy holding Cer to the tree "Y'know I once knew a guy who could absorb energy just like that. Nice guy that Aleksander...Shame I had to kill him. He made great borscht" "Hey!" came a bark from the other duplicate nearby, snapping the first from his reverie "Stop talking! Classified, remember?" The chatterbox duplicate straightened and looked at Cer and Damien awkwardly "Oh, right...Forget I said anything" He paused only for a second before saying to Cer "So about that double date..." The other duplicate meanwhile had turned his attention away from his motormouth brother just in time to see Kuro blast off of the beach and hurtle towards the sea. As the brat landed with a splash, Nate sighed and turned to the other duplicate "Come on. We better rescue the brat" The other one When Mu asked if he could kill him, Nate only laughed and told him "You have issues." He was about to poke the bear some more when there was suddenly a skeleton crash landing at Aya's feet. This was even funnier to him than Mu in a bubble and he laughed some more. Aya clearly didn't feel the same way about it and backed up into him. He instinctively put his hands to her shoulders to reassure her but she obviously didn't need it as she stepped forward again and kicked the skeletons head clean off it's shoulders and into the water. "Damn girl, you should play for the NFL" he told her as something else smashed into the water. Kuro apparently. It was then that the two duplicates appeared beside him. "Hey" one told him "Kuro's an adult. Physically anyway. Pranked Opie then derped himself into the ocean. Gotta go play hero." It was an abridged version of what had happened but Nate knew not to ask questions. He'd find out whatever he had missed when the duplicates were reabsorbed. Instead he doffed an imaginary hat at Cer before all three ran off towards the ocean to rescue Kuro. "Keep him there" one of the duplicates told Jackson before shaking Mu's energy bubble prison again then following the other Legions. Nate fully intended to rescue Kuro but the way he went about it would make it seem like he didn't. Living out his Baywatch fantasy, the California boy ran towards the water in slow motion, his duplicates beside him doing the same. All they needed was some bitching music to accompany it and this would be awesome. They were snapped out of their collective fantasy though when some kid ran past them and dived into the water towards Kuro. "Oh...right" said Nate, suddenly picking up speed. All three dived into water behind the kid but lost track of him. They did however find a very helpful dolphin as it pushed Kuro back to the surface. The Nate's made their way to the unconscious adult Kuro. "Thanks" Nate told the dolphin, not entirely sure if he was imagining it "We'll take him from here." He took hold of Kuro then, wrapping his arms around his chest and kicking off back towards the beach. "You're a cutie" the chatterbox Nate informed the dolphin as he stroked its nose "Who's a cutie? You're a cutie" "It's not a dog" the other duplicate yelled over his shoulder as he swam off. Once again feeling awkward, the chatterbox duplicate said "Oh...right" and then followed after the others. -0h Bee again.</s> <\|message\|>Elijah Craigh After a few more rounds it was the eyes of Elijah Craig that found Nate holding a e Kuro. I quickly adjusted his Pyro made mortar launcher before shouting words that would the fear of any military man. "DANGER CLOSE!" Jim Harper like instinct took over dropped more sand in the flash mortar. Launching rounds at a swimming Nate. Geysers jumping around Nate and Kuro, from Eli's and Jim vantage point it at the very least look so bad ass. "SWIM NATE, SWWWWIIIIIM!" Eli shouted as he let loose the largest round so far, one that would send water and sand at least 100 feet tall. "I don't much care if the kid gets hurt but I do hope you that's not the real Nate. Might hurt my feelings if he gets hurt too badly." Jim just laughed at Eli.</s>	<\|message\|>Camille Mahroug Camille Mahroug - Timber! Upon witnessing the events unfolding right under Camille's little feet, the young critter quickly took notice of the captain's shadow suddenly appearing over her small figure. She turned her head to acknowledge him, blinking a couple of times before giving him an innocent child's smile of happiness. She tried to make it appear as sincere as possible, though the young man's demeanor didn't really appear all that threatening to her, he actually seemed kind of alright. He was hot, obviously, but seemed also kind of douchie. Though there was no time for fantasies, given she'd actually be into the male gender (ooohhhhhhhhhhh mystery), he wanted some silly fight. "Tee hee, I'll kick your butt pretty boy!" But before she coudl stand up to have a little fun, and even bigger shade overshadowed the two. It wasn't Patel's tentacles, oh no, it was that massive bomb Light had taken out. Camille turned again and looked down to capture a glimpse of what may have created that thing. It was that cartoon girl, the famous one who invaded Camille's home a while back. She was coming back for more, aye? Normally Camille would be quite freaked out considering how much pain it took to dispose of that fighter, but the mind dampening effects of the dreamworld did have some effect on the little girl's common sense. "No I wanna kill her instead!" She insisted to the captain, giving off murder as a casual thing in the process. However before Camille could leap out from the crow's next... BOOM! A giant projectile going at the speed of sound crashed in the middle of the ship's deck, piercing it clean, destroying most of it in the process. The sail's post would inevitably fall, prompting Camille to panic for a second, since well nothing made sense to her at this point. Speedy guy here, bomb cartoon there, random projectile everywhere. But she quickly snapped out of it and let her instinct drive her. She pressed her foot against the falling log of wood as she controlled her fall, allowing her to use the speed of sound to reach Ann's position fairly quickly. Ann would meet up with a panting Camille, the technique had evidently sucked out a lot of stamina from here. "pantHey Ann... This idea pantpant wasn't so hot.. After all! Wheeeewww!" She'd say as they stood on one half of the boat, a half that could easily capsize, sink or simply break down after the tremendous damage it took from the THOR weapon. Camille held her friend's forearm rather tightly in order to keep her balance but also to drag her in if she were to do an emergency escape. One thing Camille should be praised for would be her altruistic nature toward she holds dear, and in this world Ann was very important to her.</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Alias(s): Honey Day Ann followed the man in silence, still looking around hoping for a glance of something... incriminating. But it all seemed alright and the man opened up a private room. "Thanks..." she muttered under her breath as she stepped into the room. It was quiet and looked cozy. "No... there is no one. I'm fine." She answered without the confidence to back that assurance up. But the man didn't press further and left. He came back some time later with food and clothes and Ann took a long overdo shower and picked at the food she was given, still fearing sabotage. The clothes were plain but they were clean. Fresh undies and a bra felt terrific. A clean white shirt and a loose, pink sweater, with a comical cartoon kitten on the front. Finally a pair of jeans finished this conservative look. Then she fell asleep while watching cartoons and awoke the next day. The man, introduced as Max, who had offered her assistance, brought her breakfast and Ann finally opened up and admitted her Meta status. She agreed to a sort of Meta physical which was more of an interview. She told them of her powers, of Ariadne, and some information about her origin. A lab in the middle of Arizona was most likely responsible, she admitted she didn't know much before that. She mentioned that there were others and that they escaped somehow but wasn't sure how. Seemingly satisfied, they gave her the rest of the day. She wandered and explored the building but eventually settled on watching cartoons again. This time in the staff break room because it was surprisingly warm and it offered a nice view from the third story window of the park she had just been at yesterday.</s> <\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Today had been a long day. Midterms, work, people… all Aya wanted to do was collapse into bed. Turning the last corner, she saw her building casting a shadow over her, relief washing through her at finally coming home. As she walked along the path, she saw a read-headed man collapse in front of the landlord's door. Concern ripped through her as she watched as the landlord and his wife usher him inside. Aya's brow still crinkled in worry, but at least the man would be taken care of. At least, she thought so until she heard a scream that froze her blood. Aya's feet were glued to the pavement, unable to move. Something was wrong. Someone was in pain. Her mind shouted at her to move, to see what the danger was and help, but fear paralyzed her where she stood. Something that would make someone scream like that… what could she possibly do to help? Maybe if she just… but memories shot through her at the last time she'd used her powers. The fear and guilt that rushed through her every time she thought of it, the man's face, distorted by rage, his angry shouts… and then the echoing silence when he died. Another scream tore through the air, ripping Aya out of her memories. She had to do something. At the very least she had to see what the situation was, and if she even could do anything. Decision made, she steeled herself, ducking into the alley next to the apartment. Sitting down on the dirty floor, she took a deep breath. Second thoughts rushing through her head, Aya switched on her power. Suddenly, the overwhelming LA heat, city smells, the hard ground underneath her were all gone. Sounds became muffled, as if Aya had cloth over her ears, and when she opened her eyes, the world was dark around her, objects and people shining brilliant like stars in the night sky. Only her spirit carried the same colors as in life, and she raised her hands to her eyes. She was getting more and more accustomed to the changes that came when she activated her abilities, but every time they still perplexed her. Another scream came, this time muffled by the veil separating her spirit from the world, and she remembered what she was supposed to do. Standing up, Aya left her body behind and walked through the wall of the apartment so she was standing in the living room. And then she screamed. The sight that greeted her was horrifying. The ginger man (clearly a Meta) was laughing as he draped carnage around the room like tinsel. Forgetting that no one could hear her, Aya slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her scream. Her body trembled as she watched in horror. The Meta took absolute delight in the nightmare he unleashed, blood spraying every which way as he murdered two people and corrupted a third. Aya dropped to her knees and began dry heaving, sickened by the sight. And then in the next moment she was snapped back into her body, uneasiness building in her stomach. She threw her head to the side and threw up until her stomach was empty, and all that was left was her rasping coughs. Rocks and cement dug into the skin of her palms and she clutched for something to ground her, to remind her that she was awake and not living through some twisted nightmare, panting out heaving breaths. She stayed like that for a few minutes when she heard the apartment door open and that man's sickeningly sweet voice. Pushing herself back up to a sitting position, Aya wiped at fresh tear tracks on her face before switching back to the astral plane. She had to call the police… but first something was telling her to follow this man. And so she did – all the way down into some hidden alcove. She watched in confusion as different people made themselves known. A scientist who could apparently control dragons, an elegant woman, a young girl… Understanding dawned on her as they discussed. This was the Underground Movement. And the murderer, Sebastian Lyon… worked for them? They weren't exactly on good terms, but that seemed like the case. And they were planning something awful. Aya watched until the discussion was done and all parties left. Following Sebastian out the back door, she paused as she felt her spirit tug back to her body. Seemed like she'd reached the end of her range. Fear thrumming threw her at all she had witnessed, Aya snapped back to her body. With shaking hands she fumbled through her bag for her cell phone. "Hi, police? I'd like to report a double murder and a kidnapping." Her voice came out in short spurts between pants (or was she hyperventilating?). Rattling off the address of her building, she continued on, "The murderer, he's… I don't know, he's some kind of monster. Red hair, twenties, tall… he's a Meta, really dangerous. Does… I don't know he cuts people with his blood or something. Tell whoever you send he's dangerous." Now she was hiccuping, fresh tears streaming down her face. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself, she ran a hand down her face. Giving the operator the address of where she'd seen Sebastian exiting the… hideout? she almost added on her thoughts that it was where the Undergroun Movement met, but kept her mouth shut for reasons she didn't know. This was all too messed up. Why was she involved in this at all? Hanging up the phone, Aya rested her head against the hard brick of her building. Really, where had she gone wrong in her life that had lead her to this day? Meet our newest character, Aya. She sees Sebastian massacre a family at her apartment building, reacts appropriately, and uses her powers to follow him, watching his interactions with Isabella, Isaac, and Camille. Then she calls the police on his ass.</s> <\|message\|>Ian Sebastian Sebastian, after exiting the base, made his way back to the house to see if Cassandra, or Cassie as he was going to call her, was ready to go when he noticed a young woman crying near while leaning against the building. Oh my, those are real tears you can tell by the look on her face, she's been having a bad day. . . Lets see if I can't make it worse. With that pleasant thought in his head he aporoached the woman, adopting a face of genuine concern as he approached her. "Hello, ma'am, are you alright?"</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya was fairly certain she felt her heart stop in her chest when she heard that same voice. The voice that had laughed as a man and woman were massacred. The voice that had manipulated and maneuvered around a deadly deal. With wide eyes, she snapped her head over to look at the monster who would be sure to haunt her dreams. To all the world he looked like just a concerned passerby, but Aya couldn't forget the sickening grin he'd wore as he murdered her landlord and his wife. Trembling, she opened her mouth to say something only to find her voice caught in her throat. Her thoughts ran like a bullet train through her mind as she stared at him. He knew. He knew what she'd seen and he'd come back to kill her. He'd torture her just like he'd done to the others, and leave her body in the alley, and the last thing she'd hear echoing in her ears would be his laugh. "I–" She was brought back to reality though when she heard the sound of sirens ringing down the street. The police. They'd come, they would arrest this monster, and Aya would be ok. Maybe he didn't know what she'd done. All Aya really had to do was keep him here, right? And it wasn't like she was completely defenseless. This man had blood on his hands… but now she did too. These thoughts all rushed through her head in a moment, and Aya clamped her mouth shut, taking a swallow. Closing her eyes, she ran a hand down her face and took a deep, shaking breath. "My uh…" her voice was a quivering thing as she tried to get her thoughts in order. "My dad died," she said with a wet smile as she held up her phone. "I'm sorry, I'm fine, you don't have to deal with this." Fresh tears spilled down her face and she leaned back against the wall. The sirens grew louder in the distance. An idea occurred to her then. Looking at him out of the corner of her blurry eye, she gave another half smile. "Lynn," she said, holding out a hand to him. "Nice to meet you."</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Elijah Craigh Eli smiled and laughed when he thought back at the events that day at the LAPD. Those were simpler days where he could walk the streets and no one really knew who he was. "Think I only killed four that day. In fact during that whole ordeal I didn't really kill anyone else that I can remember. Shit I killed more in the last little bit than I did in that whole thing." Again he smiled thinking back to those days. " I went in there with Ruby after I saved her from some silly shit. She got freaked out after I shot one cop three times, cut out another ones throat, and snapped the neck of a third. Didn't stick around to watch me burn that one bastard alive. He was my the last person I needed to take out... Still hard to figure how Ruby turned like she did. Some people get a little power and all of a sudden they think they can go and do damn near anything they want. Nerve of some people." Eli knew the samd could be said if him. Truth be told his actions were worse, most of the killing he had done was planned and he enjoyed it for what it was. Trash the needed burning. He had also killed his fair share of decent people. He never did the diligence on those three cops he did kill. He just hoped they were dirty and left it at that. Deep down he doubted they were, deep down he didn't really care. That was also the big thing kept him from being on of the good guys. He didn't care enough, he had no reason to bring them in and let them go through the courts. He had no reason to play by the books and take the chance to get hurt. Easier to kill them all and let the good lord sort them out. A pithy of quotes from Stormin Norman came to out. "Forgiveness is a function of G-d and my job is to arrange the meetings." that was the chief among them. He liked the idea of that quote. That it wasn't his job to cast judgments. Just make sure he did what he had to do. That helped him greatly during his time I military, helped more in his time with the Russian Mob. Something he had crippled so baddly it was highly doubtful that they'd ever recover. He was highly proud of that fact. His own pride aside it was time that he checked on the girl.</s> <\|message\|>Valentin Caro Constantine had gotten out of the labyrinth, an act that was much faster than one would think due to the fact that, well, no one saw him wander in and out of it. Once in the New Sun Tower's park, where all the civilians had been evacuated; the civilians inside the tower itself were being guarded by Spectrum and Owlman, the man then dipped his hands into his pockets, which were specially modified to act as portals to an alternate dimension that contained all sorts of tools and stuff, and pulled out...a microphone. "Operation Milivian Bridge is a-go! Repeat, Operation Milivian Bridge is a-go!" thanks to the Microphone's sophisticated tech, the sound was heard all across the area, reaching every inch of the battlefield. Even the Hydra would be halted, before several people would teleport into the grounds of the New Sun Corporation, which had been evacuated of all civilians except for those still being safeguarded by Spectrum and Owlman inside the tower. These people were clad in costumes bearing two insignia, the first one was a simple 'IH', the symbol of the International Heroes. The second was a new symbol, a Sword of Flame. "Greetings, Ladies and Gentlemen," spoke Constantine, "this is Constantine Ramiel King, former leader of the International Heroes, telling you that 1.) reports of his death are fake, and 2.) the announcement of a new sub-section of the IH, agreed upon by current leader Cedric Wessex..." this was a lie, meant to infuriate said Wessex to being more firm, "...the Fiery Guardians!" Constantine then clapped several times, a sound also projected all across the park. As the False Angels and False Ophanim finally noticed Consty and made after him, a second teleportation brought the leader of the Fiery Guardians, one 'Blink', to Constantine's side, along with two other Heroes; Vapor, a female Meta clad in Ancient Greek Armor and carrying a Trident and Water pouch and Royal, a young man with messy black hair and wearing a porcelain mask and crown, as well as a spandex costume with the insignias mentioned before. Vapor created two shields of, well, Water Vapor to shield the group from a sudden assault of laser lights, before Royal, facing the enemies with his porcelain mask, stretched out his sceptre, marking out the New Sun Park and grounds as his 'territory', where he can dictate rules that everyone must folllow, including himself (which was the power's weakness). Instantly, the Hydra's Fire, Ice, and Acid Breaths ceased, Royal's power outlawing the use of all three elements as long as he is in his territory. This allowed a tall and well-built Hispanic Man, Carlos Hererra aka Rocketman, to fly up, and then to the Hydra's right, with the trajectory of a bullet, carefully avoiding Insominum's dragon construct and blasting through the creature's side and causing a rain of blood to spurt out. However, the Hydra, though disabled and partly disempowered, was not totally defeated yet, due to its regenrative capabilities, as well as its remaining weapons; laser eyes and hard-light constructs. Former MHLA Headquarters Valentin Caro had been believed permanently traumatized by his almost being burnt alive, his healing by Healing Spore, and being forced to give information about Merc Metas that was later used by Aperture in their gambit to divide Metahumans and Normal Humans against each other. And, well, it was only the permanent part that was false. No, for Valentin (or Valentine), the events of the Aperture War had been only a set back. However, he had a debt to pay to his rescuers first, William Plantagenet and Cedric Wessex, the latter a child soldier at the time of his rescue. And, well, a little birdie (Cough, FakeDeath!Consty, Cough) had told him that by avanging the MHLA, an organization whose probable killer had pheromone powers similar to his, would help pay said debt. Oh, and the MHLA had various properties and assets he can take over; that was a plus. Of course, he had to clear the rotten corpses himself, that was a minus, but that was what his lower-level goons, both Normal and Meta, were for. Thankfully, there was an improvised smokeless crematorium, made by Metahuman Tinkering/Gadgeteering, on the lower grounds. After that came the washing of the building with rosewater and disinfectants, and finally, the move to take possession of the building itself. Unknown to him, Constantine was setting him up as a buffer against the Third Party and their coming attack on LA; a person like Caro was a scumbag, but even scumbags deserved a chance at redemption; it's just that Caro didn't know that he was being given that chance, by acting as a shield between the Third Party and the International Heroes...</s> <\|message\|>Ian Sebastian "I have no doubt, or else I'd be having my fun with you as we speak, just like I did with the people who used to live here, but slower." Sebastian looked over to admire his handiwork before snapping his fingers. The blood that stained everything lifted off into the air, forming a sphere that floated above his head. Turning back to the girl, he pointed at her, and the bloid in her left arm began to burn, quickly spreading through her body, as well as rising in intensity. "Now then, tell me how you kniw what you know, or you die here. Try to stall agaun or play me in a game, and I'll have no choice but to turn you into my next big project, and I assure you, it won't be pleasant. For you, anyways, I'll be having a blast." -0h Kuro Kuro had left the room as soon as he heard that people in here knew who did this. . . or close behind Eve when she ran out of the room. Either way, he was gone, planning escape routes in his head for running away from his victims if he ever saw them again. He entered one of the staff rooms, and saw that girl again, along with her ghostly companion. He was currently in the Zone, so the girl wouldn't be able to see him, but the ghost would. Walking up to the ghost, Kuro cleared his throat, so as to get her attention. "Hello there, deceased person, My name's Kuro and I'm wondering why you be haunting your twin." Insomnium: Apocalypse Mode As the human Rocket busted through the Hydra, Apocalypse saw an opening to finish this fight. He shifted into a stream or shadow and flew into the beast, the red glow of his energy providing plenty of light to sustain his shadows. Now inside the beast, he began to devour it from the inside out, spreading through it's body like a cancer. Tendrils would burst from it's skin at certain intervals, covered in gnashing red maws that would curl around the outside of the beast, continuing their nightmarish feasting. Santa Bee</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya bit back a scream as her blood ignited and threatened to sear the very skin from her bones. Tears were now coming quickly, burning tracks down her face and pitiful whimpers escaped her mouth. "I heard them!" she shouted against the pain. "I work at New Sun, I heard them talking." Her voice was course and caught in her throat, hidden behind sobs. The only coherent thought she could form underneath her agony was that she couldn't tell him she was a meta. It was the one thing she could possibly have over him, her only chance to walk out of this situation alive at all. "Please, I swear!"</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Jake Jake understood the girls reluctance to talk to cops. He didn't like them either. They were always so mad. Chasing after him like morons. Slow morons. He dropped back down to the floor and started heading towards the door. The girl had asked to go to her room and Jake had already decided to go with her, not even bothering to wait for anyones permission. A lot of what Jake did these days was purely instinctive. He didn't put much thought into anything. He just followed his gut. And his gut was always hungry. He figured this room the girl was talking about may have had food in it. Or at least it had a better chance of having food than this place did...Unless the doctors were edible. He gave one a quick glance as he passed and decided they probably wouldn't taste very good anyway. And they had saved his ass. He turned his head to look back at the others and stopped on the girl. She was obviously scared and Jake felt for her. He decided that at least for the time being, he'd stay by her side. At least until she wasn't afraid anymore. He turned his eyes towards prettyboy and asked him "Well, are you guys coming or not?"</s> <\|message\|>Maxwell Shepard. "Willow Points." Max said, committing it to memory. "Right, if you find there's anything you've forgotten from your apartment we can send someone down there to pick it up. Just give me a list. Right this way, please. Damien, I'll catch you later. I have tons of paperwork to fill out after this." He gave Damien and wave and lead Aya past Jake, turning to look at the dog as he did so and giving him a nod. "You need anything, just send me a thought and I'll see what I can do. The cafeteria is always open, complimentary to guests, and if you like we can have food delivered. You should find a map of the building in your room, showing all the places you're allowed to go in this building. The floor you're staying on is a little elfy right now, truth be told we've never been as packed as this so there's nothing I can do about that. Just try your best to ignore them, it's what I do..." A Maxwell lead the girl and the dog away, giving his little tour guide speech the rush started to arrive. Spore covered reformists and police where wheeled into the room through the emergency entrance, gently carted onto beds. Among them, sleeping deeply as his bones mended, was the Owlman.</s> <\|message\|>Ian Damien Seeing nothing better to do, Damien heads off to his apartment, grumbling as he finally saw the text message that Alto sent him. "Fucking hell, I did a lot more than that, but I guess I can try and squeeze that out of the reformists later, once I'm back in fighting condition." Sebastian "I think I have decent chance against that simpleton, given enough time to formulate a plan and such, but given how he doesn't feel pain and decent isn't a chance I like to take, I'll comply." Sebastian exited the dark of the alleyway with a smile on his face, Cassandra flowing behind with a few scalpels and other, painful looking instruments, which she was presently cleaning. Behind them, a few low groans could be heard, as well as rivulets of blood inking it's way out of the darkness. "Besides, I didn't even now if Isabella was alive, kinda disappointed that she is to tell the truth, and I had to leave any way to get my little protege. Her name's Cassie and I liberated her from a rather nasty parent. We've bonded since then over torture and death, and her ability is very useful for the second one." Cassandra stepped forward a little shyly, putting the instruments a way in her backpack as she did so. She didn't know what it was about the man in front of her, but she found his words to be highly persuasive. "H-hi, My name's Cassandra, and it's a pleasure to meet you." She considered putting her hand out to shake hands with one of them, but quickly decided against it. She knew this guy was a meta, and her experience with Aya made her wary of touching on without knowledge of their power. Thinking of Aya also made her a little sad as well, as she felt very much betrayed when the older girl had turned on them. Aya's tutoring sessions had been a beam of light in the hopelessness of her situation, and she'd been very excited at the thought of her coming with them. Sadly, it seemed as if that was not to be. Sebastian cracked his neck as he walked up to Vince, a smile on his face as tendrils started to creep up from behind his back. "Now then, please turn off you power, fascinating as it is to watch you use it on others, I truly despise when you use it on me. I do hate it when I'm not in control of my own thoughts, it makes me very annoyed. Would you like to help me work off steam, or would you like to live? I'll go to Isabella either way, you have my word on that front, but if you don't stop with what your doing, you'll be joining my friends in the alley back there."</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya's jaw dropped when she walked into her room. Seriously, this was like a hotel suite! Wide open space, a fluffy bed, a TV and numerous game consoles, a computer, and her own bathroom… and was that a jacuzzi? She spun around, taking it all in (and was excited to see a little garden outside – she adored flowers). And there was her suitcase, neatly sitting beside the bed. Still in awe at how cushy this guest room was, Aya forced her sore body towards her bag and unzipped it. First order of business was a shower – she was fairly certain she smelled like blood and terror. She paused though, when she remembered the dog that had followed her all the way up to her room. Turning to him, she knelt down and looked him in the eye, giving his head a scratch. "So, are you my new companion?" she asked quietly. "Heard you were in that mess at New Sun. You must be quite the hero, huh? I guess that makes me pretty lucky to have you." She gave him a small smile and figured heroes deserved a treat (her dad had always teased her that she was too soft and spoiled anything with fur and big eyes). Walking to the fridge, she pulled it open to find it fully stocked… but with people food, not dog food. Aya wasn't sure what she expected. Remembering what Max had said about ordering food, she picked up the phone on the night stand and stammered her way through ordering room service while being overly aware of the fact that she was a guest and taking advantage of their hospitality when they'd already given her this luxurious room. After that was done, she walked into the bathroom with a change of clothes and took what was both the most agonizing and best shower of her life. Aya walked back into the room, still dripping and sore, but at least she was clean. Opening her door, she found the plate she'd ordered sitting outside and brought it in, placing it on the ground and removing the lid. She'd ordered a steak. "Alright buddy, eat up," she said to the dog. She'd probably just find something to eat in the fridge, though at the moment her appetite was nowhere to be found. She gave a little jump when her ringtone cut through the air. Fumbling for her phone, she looked at it and raised her eyebrows in surprise when she looked at the caller ID. "<Mom?>" she answered in Japanese. "<What time is it over there?… No, I'm fine… I live on the other side of the city Mom, I wasn't anywhere near it. It had nothing to do with me.>" That was probably the biggest lie she'd ever told, she thought as she looked down at her ruined hand. "<No, it's–… what?… I'm just tired, ok?… Long day at work, and I've got a lot of stuff to do…>" Aya ran a hand over her face – and then regretted it when she realized it was her right hand and touching it at all caused pain to shoot up her arm. "<Yeah,>" she said, not wanting to talk to her mom for longer than necessary. "<Yeah, ok… Bye.>" With a sigh, Aya hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed. Even when the conversation wasn't bad, talking to her mom stressed her out. Too tired to move around, but too anxious to sleep, Aya plopped down on the floor next to the bed, leaning her head against the plush sheets. She watched the dog as she let out another puff of air. An idea came to her, but Aya was hesitant about it at first… thus far nothing ever good had come from using her powers. But… it would be ok if it were here, wouldn't it? And then she thought back to when she'd failed to use her powers when she meant to with Sebastian. If she'd just had better control then, she'd have a working hand right now. She mulled it over for a bit longer, before finally just closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Why not?" she asked herself. Aya looked over to the dog then. "Hey buddy, want to come exploring with me, or stay here and take care of my body? Either way I'll feel better with you looking out for me." She'd never actually tried bringing an animal with her before. Then again, she'd also never met an animal that spoke english. Who knew how this would turn out? Aya gets situated in her room, showers, orders a steak for Jake, and has a tense phone call with her mom in Japanese. Then she invites him to go exploring with her via her powers. zero</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Light "Oh, being attacked. Took them long enough." Light said, looking down at the thing that was entering the building. Ignoring Cedric, she jumped off the roof, and besides leaving a hole that was her shape, Light was mostly unharmed but a bit dazed. She snapped out of it and caught up to the intruder, who was being fired upon by the bases security measures. Considering they were meant to kill and not secure, Light figured she didn't need to be gentle with it. She could hear faint whispers in her head, but she ignored them, she was already crazy enough as is. Waiting for an opening, Light put down a hole and appeared behind the thing, going for what she assumed would be its kidney.</s> <\|message\|>Olivia Octavia Delacroix "I'm familiar with his file." Olivia finally admitted as Eva finished reading the document which she had fetched just to attempt to get one up on Elijah. "I also know that he's a deplorable human being with enough blood on his hands to fill this room." Giving Elijah a scathing look, her lips set into a soft smile. "I've been keeping an eye on him, though. He's a danger to society with little to no desire to fit into normal, human ideologies. His alliance with Cedric Wessex, the only thing stopping him from killing both of us, is shaky at best. If that alliance was to break, I can't imagine him putting up with me much longer but Hell, at least there'd be a warrant for his arrest." Olivia was clearly distrustful of both Cedric and Elijah but she really did not like Elijah - she didn't even use his name when talking about him. Just at that, a voice cut over the speakers in her room; it was Cedric, requesting her presence and initiating an evacuation. "Drills aren't fun." She groaned heavily, downing her coffee before jogging to her room. There was something different this time - the air itself felt heavy and the sounds of the early-morning traffic faded into the background, almost as if both nature and civilization were holding their breathes in anticipation for the next event. Changing within a few moments, she nodded to Eva as she moved past. "Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." With that, she escaped out into the corridor where a few people were moving to the elevator to get down and out. Taking the stairs up, she ignored the awkward feeling in her chest - the wound was still healing and like it or not, she was limited a little. When she finally arrived at Cedric's office, he explained the situation to everyone present. She absorbed the information with a moment's notice and activated Orion as Canis Major and Canis Minor joined her on the battlefield. Olivia didn't know exactly where to go so she followed Cedric to the roof to oversee evacuations. When Cedric left, she decided to fill him in on some necessary information. "Cedric, that thing is moving inside the building. We need to get Light down there now to make sure that it doesn't get through to the inner supports. If it tears those things apart, it'll take this entire building down with everyone inside of it. There's also two individuals taking up point on each exit of the building. They don't look like our forces. I'll go deal with one so send someone else to get the other. I'll try give you as much support as possible." With that, she pulled her fingers away from the earpiece and let out an unprepared sigh. The last few minutes had been such a rush that Olivia had forgot to even feel some of the basic, human emotions. She needed fear if she wanted to get through today so, upon taking a few deep breathes, she finally pulled her thoughts together. Thankfully, she began to feel the familiar sense of suddenly feeling the urge to be sick. Fear was a good thing when you were going into a life-threatening situation. Standing, she surveyed the area below her before moving back into the building and down to the ground floor. Using the sounds of screams and explosions, she made her way around Patel's advances and found herself in the open air where evacuees were desperately trying to escape. There was a man stopping them (Vince) and she had to stop him. Taking the initiative, she raised her bow and firmly grasped the string with two fingers. Dragging it back, an arrow seemed to form out of nowhere as she took aim. Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out. Shoot. Releasing the arrow, it flew with stunning accuracy towards its target. The arrow itself had no piercing qualities but simply generated a shockwave which was enough to knock someone off their feet. With that, she released another few arrows, trying to force her target a few steps back as the evacuees parted around her, revealing her to Vince.</s> <\|message\|>Elijah Craigh Eli tossed the folder that was in his hand down on the ground. Eli ran out into hallway and walked into his room. There were three Go Bags sitting ready. Slinging one his back Eli reached into his pants pocket and called Cedric. Cedric kept running through the halls, taking advantage of the dissolcing roofs and drop-in panels, before hearing Eli's call. Briefly stopping, he said: "Let me guess, you're going to go off and do your own thing?" the 20-year old felt a small burst of metaphorical heat in the back of his head; he was a little angry, but not at Eli; he can do whatever he wanted. Rather, he was angry at fate itself for throwing him such a dick move. "All right, I assume you'll be keeping Olivia safe?" Cedric continued resignedly. "I know it's Lancaster but who is attacking? I got a place North of here that'll keep her safe. It'll take me about ten minutes to get there back. "Eli said slinging another over his shoulder. "From Security Cameras, it seems like a hooded figure who extends metahphysical tendrils and arms that can break even the unbreakable, with little to no range limit to said arms! Said hooded figure, according to several people's dying messages, seems to access his or her powers by muttering gibberish!" Cedric said frantically. Eli froze for a more than a moment. Caught up in pure terror, he stumbled when tried to speak for a second. "Cedric if you have any value for your own life run. Keep running and don't look back, this binding and almost everyone in it is dead. Good luck kid." With that said Eli hung up the phone. He had a pretty good idea of what was about to happen. Cedric was going to die here and Olivia was going to take over. He thought silently for a a second. In his own twisted mind of right and wrong. Cedric was still a child for the most part, ill suited to what needs to be done. Oiliva could and more than likely would be the better option here. But deep down, Eli was gonna miss him. Eli quickly picked up the third bag and went back to Oilivas room. Eva WA was cowering in a corner while Albert, Oilivas Butler, was trying to to pack a bag for her. Say what you will about him. The guy was dedicated. Eli called over to Albert, and did what he could to comfort Eva while he waited for Albert to finish what he was doing. Albert held much the same thoughts on Eli that his boss held. The thoughts didn't bother him as much as that constant look of disgust. Eli explained exactly what to do and how to do it. Where to go and how to get there. It was a detailed explanation on how to escape and go north to a location hidden away just a handful of miles north to Angeles National Forest. There was plenty of places to hide and Eli had paid plenty of money to make sure those places were kept that way. Handing off two of the go bags and reexplained everything. He quickly left and went to find Oiliva. It didn't take long to find her. Too much time together is what Eli guessed. "Dela, gives me pause you running down my name like that. If I was gonna kill you, or Eva I'd of done it by now. Honestly I'm starting to like you..." Eli said just after watching the her loose a few arrows. He sighed right then knowing how difficult this was gonna be. "All that aside, I need you to come with me. I'd much obliged if this went the easy. It'd save us both a lot of time,I don't even know if I can kill what's coming." Eli knew she wasn't about to jump into his arms and take off, but it never hurt to try the easy first. He looked at the man who Oiliva had just shot at. Eli couldn't help it, or damn sure couldn't hurt anything. "Good Lord that man is pretty. Holy hell I'm not even gay but I'd fuck that man. Land of Goshen that is a highly fuckable man." Eli couldn't help but chuckle. Maybe it would be lighten the mood but Eli sure as hell thought it was funny.</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya's head shot up when she heard a bark from the doorway. Seeing that Cedric no longer needed her, she darted over to follow Jake out the door and down the hall. That woman with the greying hair was doing her best to herd people towards the back exit. Miss… Sir? Aya wasn't sure but this really wasn't the time to be questioning names. She followed the group out the door just in time for the air to fill with an inhuman whispering, thick with promises of destruction. People around her were just meandering around, seemingly put out by the inconvenience of this "drill." She gaped then as the Sir woman stepped back into the building.</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Jake Monsters When the blood pierced his muzzle, Jake tried to yelp in pain but no sound came out. He hated this man. He wanted him dead. He wanted to kill him. Sebastian tossed the dog aside and Jake hit the ground hard but ignored the pain, trying frantically to get the blasted blood muzzle off of his face. He heard the maniac talk with Aya but he didn't pay attention to what was being said. He was too angry to listen. He continued to paw at the blood over his mouth as more blood tendrils approached him. When he noticed them he jumped into an attack posture, even though there was little he could do to them without his mouth beside growl. But then there was nothing to be done. He heard a dull thud from nearby and then the blood dropped to the ground. Finally free of the horrific restraint, Jake turned to see both Aya and Sebastian drop too. He had seen Aya use her power enough now to know what was going on. She had taken Sebastian to the astral plane. He couldn't decide if that was clever or stupid. Mouth finally healing, he made his way quickly to Aya's side and sniffed at her to see if there was any sign of her waking. She didn't move though and Jake shifted his attention back to Sebastian, growling through his teeth at him. He too was unconscious. This was Jake's chance. He was going to kill the creep. It was nothing less than he deserved. Nothing less than he had given to everyone else here. He stepped over to the seemingly lifeless Sebastian and stomped his forepaws down on the killers chest. There was enough force behind the blow to leave a bruise and maybe even deeper damage. But that wouldn't matter. He was going to be dead in a second anyway. With another deep growl, Jake looked down at Sebastian, ready to tear into his throat and and his miserable life...But then something caught his eye. Jake looked up to see a young girl standing about 50 feet away. She couldn't have been more than five or six years old and clearly a meta if the scales on her forehead and neck were any indication. Jake had met this girl before, although he failed to remember her name. She had been laughing. Smiling...And now she stood, surrounded by death. The expression on the girls face was one of pure horror. Eyes wide and jaw slack. Tears rolled down her face though she had been stunned into silence by the events that had just transpired. Jake couldn't blame her. Sebastian had...Wait...She wasn't looking at Sebastian. She was looking Jake dead in the eye. Jake suddenly realised what he must have looked like to this girl. A snarling, rage filled beast covered in blood and burns, about to kill a defenceless man...A monster. Was that what he was? Was that what this girl saw him as? He didn't want that. He didn't want this girl to be afraid of him. There were plenty of real monsters around here for her to be afraid of. He didn't want to be one of them. His head was swimming now and his heart pounding. He didn't want to be a monster. -0h</s> <\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Though beautiful, the astral plane did little to mask the carnage around her. There was no more iron in the air to make Aya gag, but all around she could see the mangled, half-dissolved bodies. She'd done this. Sebastian may have been a murderer, but who had let him live? Who'd let him remain a threat to everyone in the city? All this death could've been avoided if Aya'd just done the responsible thing when she should've and left him to die. If she'd just done the right thing then… Aya drifted to the bodies, too weighed down by her guilt to bother moving her legs as she normally did. But then something caught her eye. One of the bodies glittered slightly, and then a starry mist raised from it and dissipated. The soul, she realized with a start. She'd just witnessed someone dying. She looked around again and found another body beginning to glow and darted over, leaning close to it. She watched as the glow grew and the mist began to rise. Captivated, Aya reached out a hand, and the soul drifted through her feelings. Flashes of emotion shot through her – pain, sorrow, acceptance… for a single moment she was part of that soul. And then it drifted away just like the one before. A shiver ran through her, feeling that she'd just invaded on something terribly intimate. Hearing Sebastian's voice, she looked over to find him sitting down, accepting whatever fate would come to him. He was so calm… how could he be so calm after killing so many? Aya just stared at him, trying to understand. She had no reason to fear him here, but he still set her skin prickling. The adrenalin fading out of her system, she couldn't bring herself to feel the rage she'd felt before. "Tell me where Cassandra is," she finally managed to say.</s> <\|message\|>Ian Sebastian "She's at some old base, Avalon or some such nonsense, that the Underground movement has taken over as their own. It's not like I could very well bring her here, she has no way of fighting effectively. While my care for her life is low, it doesn't mean I'd throw it away by bringing her here." Sebastian repined as he watched the Aya's mutt come close to his body, looking as if he was about to tear his throat out. And yet, the beast stopped, for whatever reason Sebastian couldn't understand. So he'd live a while longer before he went to hell, or into nothingness if their was no such thing as an afterlife. Turning to look around, he saw the saw strange stardust that Aya had seen rising from a body next to him. Curious, he stretched his hand into it, and he'd feel similar emotions as Aya had. He'd feel the pain, so agonizing that it made him want to wretch, the sorrow that came with knowing that you were going to die, and the acceptance that came after it. Wriggling his fingers, he couldn't help but chuckle a little. "You really have a marvelous ability, Lynn, truly magnificent. Truly enviable, the ability to feel one's soul as they pass on. Truly an interesting experience. . . that is all I've deer wanted, for life to be interesting and fun. Just so happens that my definitions of fun differ from the norm, from what people find acceptable." Sebastian gave another look at Jake, still quite puzzled by the dog's actions. "Do you have any idea why your pet didn't rip my throat out? There is nothing to stop him, he had every right, and yet he stopped himself from taking his rightly earned vengeance. I'd call it stupidity, but then I'd be looking the gift horse in the mouth. . . .I guess by questioning it, I already am, aren't I?" -0h</s> <\|message\|>Solf Patel The Walk of God - Part 4 Mu's final endeavor before leaving appeared to be quite futile as the vector coming out behind Patel subsided upon meeting up with its creator. As a matter of fact, the transparent vectors had all vanished the instant Patel's previous target started to flesh for some strange reason. All of a sudden, a beam of energy was shot, but the starting flash was enough for Patel's abnormal way of sensing things to react. "..." An armored body of a security guard a meter away from Patel would be grabbed after the quick whisper and whipped in the middle of the beam's trajectory. Patel only proceeded that way because it could only guess by the feel of the armor that it was meant to resist, effectively deflecting the beam while leaving the majority of the body burned. Then came Light who had regenerated from everything. Solf could finally recognize the individual known as the Reformists' trump card, the living cartoon that didn't fear death for a second. Lancaster and Camille had warned the entire team of her potential, and even though Patel's mind would be too damaged to make effective use of the intel, it knew she was the number one threat. Even though Patel continued a perfectly linear walk without a single interruption, it kept its focus on Light rather than anything else. It noticed a new tool being used, a bottle filled with liquid. In Solf's simple mind, it would be weapon, meaning it would represent a danger. It would make that deduction even with a small candycane. "...Ru ..." A stronger sound came out of Patel's being, this one barely echoing but ringing strongly in the ears of those in the room (and the rooms nearby with the walls are torn apart). The second later, a portal opened up in front of it, catching it somewhat by surprise, as it was ready to explode with the many factors verified by Light for a good combustion. However, in reaction to Patel upping its game with the sight of Light's threatening body language, it had easily caught the bottle as it would explode with one of its invisible hand (because the vile wasn't organic) and had the vector purposely enlarged to keep the thing contained. Some of the gas had been released as even Patel wouldn't be able to instantly contain an explosion, but it would be easily blown away with fan-like movements from other vectors. All those without the vision of Mu or Aya would only see a large ball of brown gas that would quickly fade to white floating just above Patel's being. All the while it marched forward, enlarging the corridors as it breezed through them with its invisible vectors. This would cause some of the foundation to lose stability and multiple tremors being felt in higher levels. The ball of gas would be suddenly hurled at the direction of the medical ward where the most injured of combatants were still being evacuated but the endless chaos made the progress much slower. If no one were to do anything, everyone in the area would get a nice dosage of Light-made gas in their face.</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya felt his words wash over her as he pondered. "Not everyone's a monster like you," she answered him in an empty voice. That didn't mean people weren't capable of monstrous things, though. Aya thought back to the man she'd killed not too long ago. She thought of all the new graves that would need to be dug because of her weakness. But now wasn't the time to be feeling sorry for herself, not when there was still something she could do. "Where's Avalon?" she asked. Aya didn't know if it was too late to pull Cassandra back from whatever road Sebastian had started on, but she had to try. Didn't she?</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Karen Muller Karen at least liked the speedster. She kissed the vibrating man as best she could. It did not matter at the moment if she had strong feelings for the man but she had feelings for him. He was also able not to have frostbite from contact with her. "Well Road Runner I hope the mint flavored lipstick I put on before I was abducted by these hooligans is still there." She smiled, "But if say I am cold as Ice I will playfully smack. Sing Ice Ice Baby, I'll freeze you solid." She was purring at Ian.</s> <\|message\|>Alto Ganze Ah dammn it. Alto thought, She saw through it already! His act had been rather ineffectual. There hadn't seemed to be anything wrong with it, the girl most definitely didn't know who he was. Maybe she was psychic or something. Either way, he couldn't just drop the act now, even if he didn't actually have any plans for escaping. Also, some time or another he was going to have to reveal himself which would be awkward but those were thoughts for another time. "Of course my lady!" He said, still kneeling. "Knight Dural always has a plan!" He got up a little before continuing. "Please follow me, but at a safe distance. There may be more enemies roaming these halls." With that, he fully stood up and started to walk down the corridor of pods. Hopefully the girl would actually follow. Santa and @NarcissisticPotato if you guys want to meet the rest of the squad</s> <\|message\|>George Maxwell Washington DC As stated earlier, Abu Bakr Al-Baghdadi, as well as many members of the remnants of IS, were Metahumans. Thus, they were also prey to the Alien Abductions, abductions that in turn left the IS-controlled zone shattered, without their leader and prime fighters. George Maxwell, being frustrated in his designs as regards International Cooperation and establishing telepathic contact with the Metas, began to establish plans for the remains of the zone, including Raqqa, which had held out because of Al-Baghdadi's Metahuman Abilities, to be retaken by Iraq, Syria, and the Kurds. If he cannot have his 'World Government', then he was going to destroy IS, once and for all. But it was not just IS he had to deal with; the World Economy would feel the shocks of the Alien Abductions as well, from investor confidence failing, to Metahuman-made gadgets and infrastructure breaking down, and Metahuman businesses and charities trying to function without said Metahumans, with those who did business with those businesses and charities suddenly finding that they could no longer make use of such talent. Right now, such things were distant, very much so, but George knew he had to plan ahead; he had some suggestions to make to anyone who wanted to 'consult' him on the looming financial crisis. Of course, those who would consult him would be doing so in defiance of the President - he hated that woman now! The world was going to pot and she preferred to electioneer? If she dropped dead...no, he was a loyal soul; best not to think about that. Damnit all, he had nothing to do but put out fires, and he was circumscribed on how to do that! Restricted, forbidden! And all because of petty ambition; was Humanity really that dumb? Enough of this. He reviewed the Overdrive Project; Overdrive himself was missing, probably killed in the assault on the New Sun Tower or the assault on the International Heroes HQ. For a moment, he thought of an army of combat robots equal to Metas, all with human conciousnesses transferred to them. Then he dismissed it; it wouldn't work. No plan to defend Earth without Metahumans can work. "Damn them. Damn the Aliens, Damn the President, Damn Abernathy, too, for being the bearer of bad news," George said, his voice heavy with rage as he clenched his fists until they were white. "Damn the lack of good Telepaths on those Alien Ships, Damn the lack of any way to make contact with the Metas, Damn my inability to come up with a good strategy. And finally, Damn me," George finished, tears falling out of his eyes. "Cedric, I failed you, and we failed each other. We failed to pursue the dream of coexistence that we wanted," he was speaking to nowhere now, half-mad. For some brief moments, this madness extended to thoughts of WMDs and coups and wars and even killing off Humanity because it might be better than letting the Aliens victimize them. But George recovered himself, he was not the Secretary of State for nothing! "I am not letting myself get beaten by this. No, I can, and will, reach the abducted Metahumans. I can, and will, ensure a world that is not hostile to them when I secure their return. And I will ensure a future where Humanity can flourish, a future where man, woman, and child will live happily," he spoke to nowhere. <Maxwell Sheppard, if you are there, just know, not everything's going to be bad.></s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Camille & Aya: Reunions (Collab, the usual) Aya, or rather Lynn for Camille, had apparently revealed her powers to a supposed enemy. It didn't really strike Camille as she assumed the little asian girl would actually open up after all Camille had done for them to get out. The child nodded in response to Aya's latest question and marched foward to the darkness that awaited them in the alien ship. Camille kept a steady step despite her condition, an effort keep herself from appearing too weak in a time like this. Aya followed Camille's lead out of the room. The barely-healed cuts on her foot twinged every time they took a step, but she ignored it. The two walked for a time, too focused on their alien surroundings to say anything. The ship seemed… rather normal, actually. Or at least, as normal as a spaceship could be. The technologies and pipes that lined the walls carried an earthen familiarity about them, and Aya wondered at that. Shouldn't it have been… weirder? She glanced around, having Camille stop every now and then so she could use her powers and scope out the area. There was another odd thing about this ship: it seemed deserted. Where were the other captured metas? The aliens? She supposed she really shouldn't have been questioning a good thing as she didn't actually want to run into any, but still. Eventually the silence became too much for her, and she spoke up. "Where is everyone?" Her whisper was defening in the echoing halls. "There should be… something, right? I mean, it's good that we haven't run into any aliens and all that, but we need to find the others." "... Are you really jinxing this? Really?" Camille responded with sass as elegant as Oprah's behind, arms crossed with her patience running thin. She got quickly annoyed over the fact that there was absolutely nothing, a little action wouldn't hurt, but at the same time Aya was right, aliens were not the best things to encounter, ever. Aya did her thing, Camille gathered strengths while waiting, but evidently they were getting nowhere. However, an idea roamed in Camille's mind, but before actually voicing her concern, she scrutinized her surroundings a bit more, more specifically: The walls. Aya noticed Camille had stopped after a few steps and turned back to look at her, a question in her eyes. Camille was standing in the hall, looking very hard at a wall. Aya then wanted to smack herself in the head for not having thought of it earlier. The walls. The others were probably closed off in rooms just like they'd been. "Wait, wait," she said, walking back beside Camille. "Let me just make sure you're not gonna blow a hole in the side of the ship first." Aya jumped to the other side, and looked around a bit. Poking her head through the wall, she was momentarily thrown when her vision was split into two completely different scenes: one side was some storage/electrical room of sorts that Aya couldn't make sense of. But on the other side… "Oh thank god." She pushed her head to the side so a wall was no longer splitting her vision and gave a laugh of relief. Snapping back to her body, Aya looked back at Camille with a smile. "Ok, right here," she said, touching the wall in the correct spot. "Do you have enough in you to break this part?" Cocking an eyebrow, Camille didn't quite get why her partner in arms was so happy about after checking what was on the other side. Well, at least it wouldn't be aliens if she actually desired entry through the wall. Rolling her eyes, Camille almost mocked the final question she was asked, she'd be convinced she was far stronger than any of the looneys she'd meet around here. She approached the wall they were both analyzing and simply poked it. The wall slowly turned to nothingness, portion by portion, the layers of metal fell and revealed a group inside. Camille would be both pleased to see that people were actually here, but burdened with a new set worry as she realized these people would be the least welcoming of all toward her anyway. She took a step back, afraid of the inevitable outcome. Ignoring the pain in her foot (and Camille), Aya hurried through the newly-made door. "Jake!" she called out, beaming. And there was Owlman and some… other person too. Some dark part of her was a tad annoyed to see Owlman alive, but the rest of her was too relieved to worry about that. They'd found someone. zero mc</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Emile King The Zombie --- The Fresh Heralds looks down at their weapons in confusion. They didn't shoot, and they were supposed to shoot, but they weren't functioning. Upon closer inspection, they'd realize their tools had been sabotaged by an unknown assailant that seemed to be some reformist kid talking speeches about things the zombies were practically programmed to disregard. Throwing away their primary weapons, they each drew a pistol, only to have more knives thrown at them. The police officer seemed a lot more agile with a gun, a likely reminiscence of his life before being a Herald and would manage to shoot the knife despite its enhancement, barely deriving it. The other one took it to the should, but almost shrugged it off as he unloaded toward Ian, and consequently, to the panicking people riled up. The masked Heralds took the knives but acted as if they weren't hit at all. Even with damage to the knee, they walked more or less fine. They dropped the bodies they were carrying at the sounds of gunshots, however and simply started jogging toward the panicked masses and in the middle of the roads. It would quickly be revealed that they'd be wearing explosive vests, the kinds prepared specifically for genocides (considering they're likely slow down good infantry). In various corners, they'd quickly detonate themselves no matter the interruption. They had to kill as many as possible like fanatics. The remaining two would do their best to at least handle Ian before the civilian fresh Herald would detonate himself in hopes to take out Ian while the Officer would attempt an escape. The van stocked with a few bodies would of course take off during this entire dramatic scene. --- Nancy always kept a pretty upbeat smile all the time, like a well trained secretary doing her best to handle customer service. However, whenever Sebastian would come in and blather on about his exploit and desires, she'd have the most over-exaggerated frown depicting just how upsetting his monologues could be. Her hand was slowly reaching into one of her drawers, blatantly making it obvious she was reaching out of a weapon as she rattled through the junk in there, taking all his monologue time to actually get what she wanted. Suddenly, she slammed a machete onto her desk, severing her right hand in the process. It already leaked black blood almost everywhere, but she seemed completely unfazed by it. She'd toss the hand on Sebastian's face and revert to her usual smiling stance. "Here you go Sebastian! Yes yes! You definitely know how to spray my blood on them right?!" She he spun on her spinning chair, only noticing now the message sent by Edge through the radio as she was in her little fantasy world of chopping off her own member. She quickly grabbed the mic of said radio and replied. "Y-yes sir! Yes yes I am super duper fine, with all my buddies, thank you! I hope the operation was an absolute success!" She said nervously, he feet sporadically stomping the ground as she replied to the leader. She jumped out of her chair, her arm pissing blood all over the office floor and furniture. She only acknowledged her two buddies from the underground, buddies she sure wished she could blow the guts out off to turn into Heralds of course. Randomly, she froze into position, for absolutely no reason. She was in deep thought, but her posture made her seem like she was frozen in place. She'd let all the events fly by her head, as if she pushed everyone away from her mind before snagging a bag of what seemed to be cheetos on an unopened box near her desk. "Hey! To celebrate, anyone wants to have some good ol' Cheetos?! They're greeeat! I made them myself you know?" She'd open the plastic to let the aroma of the treats invade the near vicinity. Approaching Ellen of all people, she'd wave the sack of cheetos right in front of her face like some kind of leech trying to devour the famous woman's face. Cheetos were just flinging out of the bag and rubbing against her face. It was almost as if she was treating Ellen like some kind of imagined animal she fed, but all the food would drop down. The cheetos were of course, poisoned with a toxin capable of killing pretty much anyone who simply ate one of those. "Mmmmm some good cheetos aye Ellen? Do you like cheetos? Mmmm I love cheetos! C'mon, delicious cheetos..." Though no matter the response, she'd rinse and repeat, next stop was Sebastian and she'd give the same scene she did with Ellen to the psychopath. Hopefully, he'd eat it and fall into cardiac arrest, finally getting rid of his constant monologues. And finally, the giant ugly man she just wished should mutilate and turn into something super awesome like a giant Herold. Her dialogue would change however with Isaac as she had other ideas roaming his mind concerning him. "Isaac! These Cheetos are the best, mmmm! If you eat one I'll fix you up and make you look the way you've always wanted, yes yes!" She said with so much glee, but it'd be almost a known fact that giving one's life in the hands of Nancy would be a death sentence, or at least a forfeit of any freedom they had. Plus her attempts in killing pretty much anyone would be under more blatant forms more often the naught. Her favorite maneuver being to try and shoot someone with a shotgun, missing, and flying backwards with the recoil. Luckily for everyone, she'd be way too much of an incompetent klutz to actually kill anyone. Though, there shouldn't be any confusion, she'll turn anyone into a Herald if given the correct circumstance.</s> <\|message\|>Light After both having no answer from the masked man, the guy running away and Light giving chance, Light saw a large group of the same people running towards the streets. She noticed another reformist there, Ian, who Light hadn't seen in some time having spent a good amount of time overseas. He was also dealing with these masked thugs, and from the looks of the knives on the ground, had tried to attack them but failed as he was attacked by two of them with a third running at him, breaking away from the group that Light was chasing. "Well, if they're going to be openly hostile..." Light said, grabbing a black glob from under her dress. When she let go of the glob, it turned into a shadowy portal which Light entered, popping out between Ian and the charger, punching said charger causing it to explode in her face, turning her black as if she was covered in ash and causing one of her arms to go flying in Ian's direction. "Really? REALLY?" Light said, exhaling a large cloud of smoke as she was momentarily stunned from the explosion, shaking it off after a few moments. Noticing her missing arm was by Ian's feet, she called to him. "Hey Ian, mind giving me my arm? It kinda hurts when your missing a limb." When she was all fixed up, she'd tell Ian that she'd go after the masked Heralds going at the civillians, groaning at having to set off so many explosives in her face.</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya Aya couldn't help but step back again when the stranger (knight? He'd called her 'my lady' four times in the last two minutes, and was wearing a full suit of armor in Los Angeles. He seemed pretty serious about the knight thing.) held up his ands. It was no doubt meant to be a calming gesture, but fear still pumped through her veins like blood. She flinched when he said she was the cause of this. There went her anonymity. But this man seemed… nice? At least, he didn't seem as psychopathic or murderous as Edge, though that wasn't saying much. She'd reacted out of pure fear, but now that she had this moment to take everything in, he seemed ok. Her heart still pounded in her throat, and her ears rang with the sound of gunfire… but sense slowly leaked back to her. Her gaze darted around as he patiently asked his very reasonable questions. Still not looking at him, she finally opened her mouth to answer. "I'm sorry," she blurted out in a rush. Her eyes flicked up to him, gauging his response before quickly darting away again. "I–… I didn't mean to…" She ran a hand through her hair and risked looking up at him again. Goodness, he was tall. "The… constellation you're standing in. That's us – our bodies, I mean. We're still on the street." She looked away to see the shimmering outlines of buildings around them. "That's the salon," she said, gesturing to a shorter cluster of stars, tinted pink, "and that bookstore that only stocks volumes in Russian," she said, pointing at another. Aya pulled her arms around herself, searching for anything to focus on aside from the man she'd revealed herself to. She could still hear the muffled sounds of chaos even from beyond the veil. The situation at the Center for Humans no doubt devolving even more. Whoever this knight was, he was fast and in the few moments he'd had before she'd freaked out on him, he'd carried her almost an entire block away by now. But it likely wouldn't be far enough to escape whatever was going on. Their bodies would be sitting ducks, his shining armor like a beacon. She knew they had to go back. But that meant touching this man and activating her power again. She chewed her lip a moment before drawing out her hand, holding it out. "I can put us back," she said, looking down again. But she made no move to close the distance between them.</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Marcus Collins Marcus leaped from one building to the next at speeds that seemed inhuman as well the fact that he was leaping well over a hundred with every jump. He needed to get to his target as quick as possible before they made his assassination more difficult. This job would see almost a million bucks in his pockets and to make this job even better, the women he was assassinating was a member of the British parliament. He would take great pleasure in putting a bullet in this Brit's brain. His mind for a short moment went back to the memory of his father's murder and his hatred rose up inside of him. "Time to send this buck toothed Bure to God" he said to himself as his target came into a little ways down the street getting a vehicle that was being escorted by several guards. Once in position, Marcus quickly took out his sniper rifle and took aim at the vehicle. For a normal human the shot would have been very difficult, but his incredible senses and his fast thinking brain made the shot more easier. "Goodnight lassie" he said and the pulled the trigger. The bullet flew its course and found its target going right through the skull of the female politician. "Gotcha!" Marcus exclaimed and then made his escape, moving at speeds ten times faster than an athletic human. Now he needed to get away as fast as possible before he would have to fight off the authorities. After he had gotten away and made back to his safe house, Marcus contacted his contractors and received his money for his job well done. Now he was waiting for his next job and even though it didn't really matter to him Marcus still kept up on the situation with humans and metahumans. He had taken jobs for organizations who hired metahuman hit men and they paid handsomely. Maybe sometime soon they would offer him work.</s> <\|message\|>Isaac Grimes Beauty and the Beast: Part Two "Ha!" Ellen blurted with all the sarcasm she could muster. "You think you are just sooo clever trying to analyze people but you are just trying so hard to fill that trope that you have to be some psychotic slag." She sounded irritated but the reality was that Ellen Bowers was cold and heartless at this point. She couldn't give two shits about 'Sebastian the Wannabe Lector', or his attempt at trying to size her up. He didn't know shit about her actual situation, she never told him. He was just pulling shit out of his ass and spewing the same old bullshit that the media liked to say. "Pfft!" Ellen spat with a grin before Sebastian even had a chance to finish. "Oh please, don't give me that bullshit, Sebastian. You can put on this act all you want, but in the end you're just some shithead who jerks it in his own pool of blood. And nothing will ever cha- Ack! God!" Ellen was suddenly interrupted by Nancy's fevered attempts at sloppily waving a bag in front of Ellen's flawless face. She had even forgot Nancy was still in the room with all of Sebastian's attempts at strutting about. With nothing held back for her colleague, Ellen rudely shoved Nancy's little forehead away. "No thanks, loser!" She added with a scowl but that would have been her reaction regardless of the chips being poisoned or not. To Ellen, there was no difference between a oily Cheeto and one laced with Ricin. "Losers! All of you!" She shook her head and threw up her hands, signalling her intent to resign. "I cannot believe I'm stuck here babysitting this lot..." She muttered in resentment as she turned and stormed out into the hallway and around the corner. - Meanwhile, Isaac had been taking it all in. He wasn't much for words but he would never tune out of a conversation. It was actually a scary concept to see the constant bickering among the Underground Members. There was no sense of camaraderie, it seemed, and everyone appeared to be tied together by loose string, all pulling and tugging at them to get free. EDGE, himself, was that string and there was a lot riding on him. It was times like these, and many others by unrelated facts, that made Isaac reconsider his position. The Underground promised results and revenge but it all seemed so volatile. The flips side of that was the Reformist but progress over there seemed so painfully slow and Isaac was in disagreement with their methods. But it seemed a heck of a lot safer. Sebastian's question snapped Isaac back to the conversation. He honestly wasn't ever phased by Sebastian's taunts and always kept a cool head. He had become accustomed to taunts and insults growing up that they never penetrated the skin. In response to Sebastian's offer, Isaac merely shrugged and grunted, not really sure if Sebastian really intended on sparring. It didn't seem like his thing to do. The sound of crinkling soon after his grunt, brought Isaac to the smaller figure in front of him. Nancy was insisting on sharing a snack in a rather gleeful manner. Gently, Isaac grabbed Nancy's cold wrist and lowered. "No thank you, Nancy." He said softly, not even realizing that he had just turned down poisoned puffs and rather said no on his instinct that he 'just wasn't hungry.' Nancy's interruption was rather timely in jogging his memory, however. He had to admit to being really curious about the official response of authorities everywhere. "Hey, Nancy. I don't suppose you know what's happening out there right now?" Isaac asked in politely, finally releasing the girl's hands.</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya Five times, Aya thought to herself as the knight addressed her once again. Shifting uncomfortably, she looked down as he marveled at her power. Sure it was pretty to look at, but what good was it really? Besides, it'd never been something she'd been particularly proud of anyway. She forced herself to breathe as she felt his hand on hers. All she had to do was use her power again, but the thought made her hesitate – the image of her father's face appeared in her mind. His sad eyes as he realized what his daughter was, how he tried to smile through the pain for her, as though making some false reassurance… Aya cut herself off by snapping her and the man back into their bodies. Sensation rushed back into the world, the LA heat, the mass or colors, the sounds of the fight… The sharp metal edges of the knight's armor were once again digging into her skin. There was another man standing behind him, with a hand on the knight's shoulder. Though his voice had been slightly muffled from beyond the veil, it was now clear as day in Aya's still ringing ears. She hurried to climb down from her 'savior's' arms, swaying a bit as her shaky legs struggled to support her, but quickly finding her balance. "Um," she started, "Right, well… thank you." Aya shifted away from him, feeling vulnerable with this man who now knew her secret. She glanced between the two strangers, then back down the block. The commotion was too far away for Aya to make out clearly, but it seemed like fighting was still going on. Something pulled in her to go and… do something. Help. But what was she supposed to do? How could she be expected to keep up with people like Edge, or people carrying guns? Besides, this wasn't her fight. But even as she told herself that, she chewed her lip in uncertainty. Wasn't this her fight? She was a Meta after all, no matter how much she hid it. But no. Aya had no place in fights or politics or any of that. The image of Edge emerging from the building, blood and bodies clearly visible behind him, flashed through her mind and she shuddered. Giving her head a small shake, she turned her attention back to the knight. "I'll just, uh, go then. If you need to… help over there or something, you can go. I'm fine. Thanks. Again." Her cheeks began to color as her stammering went on, and she quickly turned on her heel. She was ready to leave the knight and the bodies behind, and hide in the relative safety of her apartment. Of her normal life. Though it seemed she'd be taking the path through the ghetto home today.</s>
<\|description\|>Aya Lynn Germain Alias(s): Cosmos Age: 19 Affiliations: N/A Factions: Honestly just trying to get by Description: Small and lithe, Aya's 5' build is less than impressive. Her long hair falls down her back, dark brown and thick. She's never been one for doing much with it. Aside from the occasional ponytail or braid, she's content to just let it rest where it falls. Her eyes are a deep brown color, and fairly weak. She's supposed to wear glasses, but she often finds them too much of a hassle to put on, and dislikes the idea of contacts. Powers: Astral Projection Aya is capable of extending her consciousness outside of her body. Invisible to others, her spirit form is capable of passing through solid objects or going into dangerous situations or environments that she otherwise would avoid. She can also create projections of other people if she's touching them, separating their consciousness from their bodies. She has to be touching them to bring them back from the astral plane, however. If Aya snaps back to her body without touching the other person's projection, then the person will be stuck there until she snaps to the other side again to bring them back. Aya also has the ability to glimpse into another person's soul when it leaves their body – that is to say, when they're dying. When on the astral plane, the soul materializes as a shimmering silver dust, floating from the body to the sky. If Aya touches this, she can get flashes of what they saw and thought in the moments before they died. She's still in the process of figuring out how her powers work and there are likely still things that she doesn't know about them. In the past she actively tried to avoid using them because she was so nervous about the potential consequences she could face if they were discovered, but now it's more out of habit. Strengths: Aya can keep up her projection indefinitely, and can hear and see everything around her, making her ideal for reconnaissance missions. So long as she keeps up her concentration, she can also sustain the projection up to three miles from her physical location. She also has a heightened awareness of the astral plane and everything on it, such as ghosts or other metas who might make use of it. Weaknesses: When maintaining her projection, her physical body is more or less helpless. She's still conscious, and can talk to others, but it's difficult for her to move, and she is oblivious to her surroundings. Due to her projection's intangible nature, she's also unable to influence her spiritual environment or talk to anyone through it. Skills: Fluent in English and Japanese, conversational in Spanish, intelligent, adaptable Equipment: N/A Ranking: C Brief History: Aya was just a quiet girl from Oahu before all of this. The discovery of her power had been terrifying to say the least, but keeping it hidden was an easy task. It's not like her ability was particularly noteworthy anyway – she couldn't breathe fire or heal herself or anything like that… thus life went on as usual for her. Her parents separated when she was young, her mom moving back to Japan. Aya's relationship with her today is still strained, but she had a happy life with her father. That is, until her dad was diagnosed with cancer when she was sixteen. Then life got a bit harder. They were well-off financially, so medical bills weren't much of an issue. But despite their best efforts, Mr. Germain continued to deteriorate. He passed away when Aya was 18, just before she graduated high school. The day that he died, Aya had been sitting at his hospital bed, holding his hand. He was asleep, and she'd already gone through the stages of grief, accepting that he was going to die. Then his heart monitor began to sputter. Aya snapped to attention gripping his hand and hoping for any way to make him better, or at peace, or something. Her hopes manifested in her powers activating on accident. On the astral plane, Mr. Germain was as hearty and alert as he'd been before his diagnosis. They were both shocked at the turn of events… and then he realized what had happened. His daughter was a meta. It was no secret that the Germain house wasn't the most welcoming to metas, which was part of the reason why Aya kept it secret for so long. He didn't cry or shout or reject her as she feared he would… instead, he just sighed. Like he was disappointed. Aya thought that was probably worse. But he still loved his daughter and he smiled through the sadness and stroked her hair until he finally faded away. Aya hasn't used her powers since then. After graduating from high school, Aya left "the rock" for college in LA. She's not exactly a big-city girl, but she gets along fine. She takes her classes, works part time at a local bookstore, and makes her way through tense, weekly phone calls with her mom. Thus far she's done a very good job of keeping out of meta politics, and to this day she remains unregistered and undiscovered.</s> <\|message\|>Cain Cain - Cain Enters the Fray! "You know buddy you're just making this harder on yourself. I don't normally hurt other metas but you are awfully stubborn. How much pain do you think you can really endure?" The man in question was a meta George was his name he was able to control air currents and influence the weather. He was tied to a chair with a broken left hand and dislocated jaw. Cain was smoking as he paced in front of George. "Now buddy, George wasn't it. I just want you to tell me where your wife is. All I'm going to do is go there and kill her, nice and quick no pain at all." Tipping the chair backwards onto the floor he looked at George in the eyes. "Oh sorry I forgot you're probably going to have trouble talking what with the whole mouth thing. But look here is a map of the city, you point to the place and I'll go there kill your wife and then come back set you free. If it turns out you were wrong I'll back here and see if I can't jog your memory with the same techniques that I've been using these past four hours." To address his point he ground his foot on George's left hand. George's reply was a groan in pain, he had lost the energy to scream after Cain had infected him with his own blood. His ability was eating away at George's cells, a broken hand and a dislocated jaw were the least of his worries as his body was being destroyed from the inside. Cain lifted the chair back upright placing the map in George's lap and untying his right hand. George looked at the map then back up at Cain a defiant look in his eyes. "So still gunna play that game? No matter I'm sure my gift to you will finish you off in a day. But until then we can enjoy ourselves. Right?" Cain had walked away from George to the table he had set up, on it were a selection of tool you might find in a tool kit. Picking up the pliers he turned round to George. "Let's see if we can't clip away that stubbornness of yours." As he walked over to Cain the wall where he had placed his tool blew inwards, standing there was his George's wife Hollie a meta blessed with super strength. "Well hello there Hollie just the woman i was looki-" Cain didn't finish what he was saying as Hollie had pounced onto him and clothes-lined him into the wall behind him. The wall cracked from the force. Cain struggle to stand several of his ribs were broken and his lungs were punctured. His ability quickly began to heal him but Hollie gave him no time to catch his breath uppercutting him and then side kicking him in the kidneys. Coughing up blood he staggered up. Hollie looked at Cain anger in her eyes. "You're a monster Cain, preying on people like me and my husband you make me sick!" Hollie Grabbed Cain's head and pounded it into the ground, the concrete that made up the floor cracking with the force. Hollie released Cain's head. Cain hadn't planned to fight this woman on even grounds and now he was paying for it. Hollie left Cain on the floor untying her husband. Cain's body quickly stitched itself back together faster then Hollie thought was possible for him. She was holding George in her arms giving Cain the advantage as he stood up. "Bad move sister, you have a choice; Drop your husband and I kill him or run away with your husband and I kill you both." Hollie jolted through the hole she had made and began to run away from him. Cain shook his head sadly, his feet became elongated and cheetah like allowing him to move faster then even an Olympic athlete. Chasing after Hollie and George, super strength is good but she wasn't super fast. He easily caught up to her his right arm became elongated and blade like bending backwards he zoomed past her his arm snapping forwards with enough force to crush concrete. He skidded to a halt in front of her. Turning around his body returned to normal as Hollies head fell at her feet. George fell with her he had missed Cain's blade by inches. Looking down at Hollie and George he smiled. "Sorry George buddy it's nothing personal, your wife has caused problems for my employer and now well. She wont be causing problems for anyone. I'll do you a solid though." Cain grabbed George's broken hand and removed Cain's cells from George's body. "Now you should survive and live to fight another day. I do like it when people are out to get me, keeps me on my toes." Cain called the hospital telling them George's location. Tipping his imaginary hat to George who had fallen unconscious from shock he turned and left. Leaving the area he phoned his employer who told him where the dead drop for the money was. Smiling he found the dead drop and collected his money. Turning around he heard the sound of a rifle bolt clicking. He reacted to late as his body was peppered with bullets from the fully automatic Assault Rifle. Looking at his chest he saw blood pouring from the holes made by the bullets. Falling to the floor he looked up, seeing the determined look on his assailants face he memorized it as he fell unconscious.</s> <\|message\|>Sam King Pixel The ghost gave cries of frustration when Alex avoided them and went through a door that was too small for them to pass through and Pac-man had been knocked off course and wasn't able to devour Acacia before her brother rescued her. Sam cursed in frustration and made both the ghosts and Pac-man disappear. He then created a man-size version of Mario from the Donkey Kong arcade game that was wielding the hammer power-up. "Go get those scumbags and give them a taste of old-school gaming!" he commanded the pixel plumber and Mario chased after the two metas with great speed swinging his hammer up and down continuously just like in the arcade game. Sam then created a pixel sword and followed after his creation. He wasn't going to let them get away, he had something to prove to himself and the others. He was going to be a real hero and save lives. Sam decided to stay close by Lizzie and Lucas in case the two enemy metas had something up their sleeves. Mario was gaining on Alex and Acacia and unless they took evasive actions or defended themselves then otherwise they would get horribly whacked by the old arcade game character's hammer. Bee@NarcissisticPotato</s>	<\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya The force of the collision sent Aya tumbling a few feet back, falling to the ground. She heard a grunt and a clatter, no doubt coming from whomever she'd run into. Catching herself on her hand before her head could hit the ground, she was instead treated to a flash of pain shooting from her thumb and up to her shoulder that threatened to bring tears to her eyes. She opened her eyes to inspect the damage, but before she could look down, bright red captured her attention. A man, one of the tallest she'd ever seen, and wearing a bizarre glowing mask was sprawled in front of her. A woman looking worse for wear was next to him. Both had crimson hair, the brightest she'd ever seen. Aya and the man looked at each other for a moment, as though still trying to process that they'd just knocked each other to the floor. It was then the sound of footsteps crashing down the hallway that made them finally break eye-contact. Aya looked up to see a very colorful and irritated girl – one of the Reformists she remembered standing beside the mayor – come charging towards them. Right behind her was… Mario? Aya looked back at the red headed man in confusion when realization slammed into her: he was part of the Underground. He and this woman were the ones causing havoc. She remembered a flash of red on the corner of the screen before the smoke bomb went off. Then a glint of silver lying on the floor caught her attention, and her eyes fell on a gun. A gun, two Undergrounders, an anthropomorphic rainbow, and Mario the plumber. It was then that Aya began seriously questioning the choices in her life that had lead her to this moment. But then reality snapped her back she saw everyone prepared for a brawl in the middle of the hallway. Aya's body reacted without her telling it to, and in the next instant she'd scrambled forward, ignoring her throbbing hand, and grabbed the two redheads by the naked skin of their wrists. There was a flash of instinct coiled inside her, some unknown reflex that snapped at her just before she pulled the two with her to the astral plane. Don't. When she opened her eyes to see the constellations that made up her world, she understood. Aya had only brought other people to the astral plane twice before: her father, and the knight from the massacre. Both times, the men had more or less retained their physical appearances, though her dad's soul had looked healthier than his body. She supposed the Undergrounders looked roughly the same too, but there was something fundamentally wrong with how their souls had manifested. The man was darker, more sinister, as though he was merely the shadow his body cast. The lines of his body were hazy, plumes of thick smoke – or floating, moving clouds of sand – flowing to make his form, like some sort of solid cloud. His image rippled, multiple currents fighting for domination. They ebbed and flowed back and forth, almost completely consuming each other, but in the next moment, the currents would push back the other way. Tendrils of mist floated away from his body, escaping the battle only to dissolve the moment the connection broke. The woman was completely drained of color. She ranged from a pearly grey to a deep smoke color, and seemed fragile as rice paper, as though a single touch could shatter her image, revealing it for the illusion it was. The only color on her body was a series of crimson runes seared into the skin of her wrists, ankles, and neck, like chains shackling a prisoner. Something between a gasp and a scream escaped her as she tried to scramble back from the two. There was something dark and tainted about them, and if Aya's instincts had snapped at her before, they were all but screaming at her now. This was wrong. She needed to get away from them. She needed to scrub her skin raw and red if it meant getting clean of them. "What," Aya whispered, almost to herself, "did you do…"</s>
<\|description\|>Solf Patel Alias(s): 'The Boogieman' 'The Strongest Meta' 'The Lancaster Monster' Age: Between 23 and 37 Affiliations: Corporate Factions: The Underground Organization Description: Solf is always seen wearing a hood over its head, keeping its face in complete darkness and only allowing its red glowing eyes to glimmer within the abyss. The clothes it is wearing varies but it usually wears all white with barely visible clothes behind the cloth. It can be seen that it has a normal left arm that doesn't appear to show any deformity, but it always shown to be wearing a long, gray glove extending to its elbow. The rest of the arm being covered in its turn by a white shirt. It also wears white boots. Its powers allow it to never have its hood to fall eve by the most violent of shocks. Powers: Submitted to God To reach such a level of power and spreading fear to all officials in the world, Solf's abilities are bound to be of a monstrous gravity. Solf's abilities rest on a very simple activation: Its voice. It does not matter whether it is heard, understood or even possible in certain fields, all it needs to do it talk in unintelligible speech in order to activate its abilities. When done normally, everyone in a certain distance from it can hear its chatter as if it were ominous whispers breathed directly into their ears. The louder it speaks, however, the greater the intensity of the ability. Apoptosis: Solf's most recognizable ability as it has caused countless deaths in both humans and Metas alike. This ability is capable of interacting with living beings, unlike Recall, and manifests itself as six transparent, almost invisible arms that are slightly thicker than the average, all link to its body. They are only manifested through certain chants. They can be compared, heck they're almost identical to Elfen Lied's Vectors. Depending on the speech's length and intensity, the vectors can stretch to an undefined distance. Once they get into contact with a victim, one alone can easily overpower a member and ultimately crush it either by bending it or squeezing it. Hitting them only causes them to stop for a few seconds before they try to grab their victim once more. A proof of its power: A bulky fighter with the ability to harden can avoid having his arm ripped, crushed or contorted through sheer force. However, by either screaming or chanting certain words that release a higher amount of power (in both cases, gray smokes spews out of the hood), the arm can be easily toyed with. Recall: This power is pretty much everything Apoptosis cannot do and vice-versa. Why? Unlike Apoptosis, it cannot affect the composure and body of a living being nor grab anything they could be wearing (weapons are different). Vectors are manifested, by are completely invisible due to the weaker amount of power invested in them, in exchange they can only interact with inanimate objects, whether it is to contort them, crush them, lift them, anything one could imagine. The arm vectors are also capable of changing sized and spreading much faster into long distances through basic chant. The biggest Solf can perform is completely contorting and distort a block of giant buildings in one minute through endless blather of gibberish. As much as they are harmless to living beings, the effects on anything around them may as well make Recall just as lethal as Apoptosis. Cannot be used in tandem with Apoptosis. God's Will: Solf's body holds a huge amount of secrets, one being that its eyes are barely proof of its sight. In reality, it is capable of using a form of sense that enables near 360 degree vision (it can't focus on the whole circle but it can react to any movement). This makes it particularly difficult to reach it and hit it correctly. Weaknesses: Solf is unable to run, dodge, fly or perform any kind of relevant melee move. It simply walks and destroys whatever is in its path. Whenever it chants, it requires about two or three seconds for it to amplify the effects of its power, giving easy openings. Its mental health is pretty bad too, making it simple in its actions and only doing tactics if explained and given the order to do so. Skills: -No reaction to pain -The heart and the brain seem to be the only vital spots that matter -Acute reflexes Equipment: N/A Ranking: SS - Let's be real here. It's an NPC submitted to GM control. Brief History: Little is known about Solf, not even its gender is truly known by officials. It is said that it was one of Isabella's experiments on making Meta's transcend their current powers, just as the US Government did. Solf was the only "success" in this procedure, effectively making it the strongest renown Meta on the planet. The price would be, however, complete disfigurement. It is currently known as an abomination by the select few who saw the results of the experiment.</s> <\|message\|>Jake Monsters When the blood pierced his muzzle, Jake tried to yelp in pain but no sound came out. He hated this man. He wanted him dead. He wanted to kill him. Sebastian tossed the dog aside and Jake hit the ground hard but ignored the pain, trying frantically to get the blasted blood muzzle off of his face. He heard the maniac talk with Aya but he didn't pay attention to what was being said. He was too angry to listen. He continued to paw at the blood over his mouth as more blood tendrils approached him. When he noticed them he jumped into an attack posture, even though there was little he could do to them without his mouth beside growl. But then there was nothing to be done. He heard a dull thud from nearby and then the blood dropped to the ground. Finally free of the horrific restraint, Jake turned to see both Aya and Sebastian drop too. He had seen Aya use her power enough now to know what was going on. She had taken Sebastian to the astral plane. He couldn't decide if that was clever or stupid. Mouth finally healing, he made his way quickly to Aya's side and sniffed at her to see if there was any sign of her waking. She didn't move though and Jake shifted his attention back to Sebastian, growling through his teeth at him. He too was unconscious. This was Jake's chance. He was going to kill the creep. It was nothing less than he deserved. Nothing less than he had given to everyone else here. He stepped over to the seemingly lifeless Sebastian and stomped his forepaws down on the killers chest. There was enough force behind the blow to leave a bruise and maybe even deeper damage. But that wouldn't matter. He was going to be dead in a second anyway. With another deep growl, Jake looked down at Sebastian, ready to tear into his throat and and his miserable life...But then something caught his eye. Jake looked up to see a young girl standing about 50 feet away. She couldn't have been more than five or six years old and clearly a meta if the scales on her forehead and neck were any indication. Jake had met this girl before, although he failed to remember her name. She had been laughing. Smiling...And now she stood, surrounded by death. The expression on the girls face was one of pure horror. Eyes wide and jaw slack. Tears rolled down her face though she had been stunned into silence by the events that had just transpired. Jake couldn't blame her. Sebastian had...Wait...She wasn't looking at Sebastian. She was looking Jake dead in the eye. Jake suddenly realised what he must have looked like to this girl. A snarling, rage filled beast covered in blood and burns, about to kill a defenceless man...A monster. Was that what he was? Was that what this girl saw him as? He didn't want that. He didn't want this girl to be afraid of him. There were plenty of real monsters around here for her to be afraid of. He didn't want to be one of them. His head was swimming now and his heart pounding. He didn't want to be a monster. -0h</s> <\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Though beautiful, the astral plane did little to mask the carnage around her. There was no more iron in the air to make Aya gag, but all around she could see the mangled, half-dissolved bodies. She'd done this. Sebastian may have been a murderer, but who had let him live? Who'd let him remain a threat to everyone in the city? All this death could've been avoided if Aya'd just done the responsible thing when she should've and left him to die. If she'd just done the right thing then… Aya drifted to the bodies, too weighed down by her guilt to bother moving her legs as she normally did. But then something caught her eye. One of the bodies glittered slightly, and then a starry mist raised from it and dissipated. The soul, she realized with a start. She'd just witnessed someone dying. She looked around again and found another body beginning to glow and darted over, leaning close to it. She watched as the glow grew and the mist began to rise. Captivated, Aya reached out a hand, and the soul drifted through her feelings. Flashes of emotion shot through her – pain, sorrow, acceptance… for a single moment she was part of that soul. And then it drifted away just like the one before. A shiver ran through her, feeling that she'd just invaded on something terribly intimate. Hearing Sebastian's voice, she looked over to find him sitting down, accepting whatever fate would come to him. He was so calm… how could he be so calm after killing so many? Aya just stared at him, trying to understand. She had no reason to fear him here, but he still set her skin prickling. The adrenalin fading out of her system, she couldn't bring herself to feel the rage she'd felt before. "Tell me where Cassandra is," she finally managed to say.</s> <\|message\|>Ian Sebastian "She's at some old base, Avalon or some such nonsense, that the Underground movement has taken over as their own. It's not like I could very well bring her here, she has no way of fighting effectively. While my care for her life is low, it doesn't mean I'd throw it away by bringing her here." Sebastian repined as he watched the Aya's mutt come close to his body, looking as if he was about to tear his throat out. And yet, the beast stopped, for whatever reason Sebastian couldn't understand. So he'd live a while longer before he went to hell, or into nothingness if their was no such thing as an afterlife. Turning to look around, he saw the saw strange stardust that Aya had seen rising from a body next to him. Curious, he stretched his hand into it, and he'd feel similar emotions as Aya had. He'd feel the pain, so agonizing that it made him want to wretch, the sorrow that came with knowing that you were going to die, and the acceptance that came after it. Wriggling his fingers, he couldn't help but chuckle a little. "You really have a marvelous ability, Lynn, truly magnificent. Truly enviable, the ability to feel one's soul as they pass on. Truly an interesting experience. . . that is all I've deer wanted, for life to be interesting and fun. Just so happens that my definitions of fun differ from the norm, from what people find acceptable." Sebastian gave another look at Jake, still quite puzzled by the dog's actions. "Do you have any idea why your pet didn't rip my throat out? There is nothing to stop him, he had every right, and yet he stopped himself from taking his rightly earned vengeance. I'd call it stupidity, but then I'd be looking the gift horse in the mouth. . . .I guess by questioning it, I already am, aren't I?" -0h</s>	<\|message\|>Solf Patel The Walk of God - Part 4 Mu's final endeavor before leaving appeared to be quite futile as the vector coming out behind Patel subsided upon meeting up with its creator. As a matter of fact, the transparent vectors had all vanished the instant Patel's previous target started to flesh for some strange reason. All of a sudden, a beam of energy was shot, but the starting flash was enough for Patel's abnormal way of sensing things to react. "..." An armored body of a security guard a meter away from Patel would be grabbed after the quick whisper and whipped in the middle of the beam's trajectory. Patel only proceeded that way because it could only guess by the feel of the armor that it was meant to resist, effectively deflecting the beam while leaving the majority of the body burned. Then came Light who had regenerated from everything. Solf could finally recognize the individual known as the Reformists' trump card, the living cartoon that didn't fear death for a second. Lancaster and Camille had warned the entire team of her potential, and even though Patel's mind would be too damaged to make effective use of the intel, it knew she was the number one threat. Even though Patel continued a perfectly linear walk without a single interruption, it kept its focus on Light rather than anything else. It noticed a new tool being used, a bottle filled with liquid. In Solf's simple mind, it would be weapon, meaning it would represent a danger. It would make that deduction even with a small candycane. "...Ru ..." A stronger sound came out of Patel's being, this one barely echoing but ringing strongly in the ears of those in the room (and the rooms nearby with the walls are torn apart). The second later, a portal opened up in front of it, catching it somewhat by surprise, as it was ready to explode with the many factors verified by Light for a good combustion. However, in reaction to Patel upping its game with the sight of Light's threatening body language, it had easily caught the bottle as it would explode with one of its invisible hand (because the vile wasn't organic) and had the vector purposely enlarged to keep the thing contained. Some of the gas had been released as even Patel wouldn't be able to instantly contain an explosion, but it would be easily blown away with fan-like movements from other vectors. All those without the vision of Mu or Aya would only see a large ball of brown gas that would quickly fade to white floating just above Patel's being. All the while it marched forward, enlarging the corridors as it breezed through them with its invisible vectors. This would cause some of the foundation to lose stability and multiple tremors being felt in higher levels. The ball of gas would be suddenly hurled at the direction of the medical ward where the most injured of combatants were still being evacuated but the endless chaos made the progress much slower. If no one were to do anything, everyone in the area would get a nice dosage of Light-made gas in their face.</s>
<\|description\|>Aiko Fujiwara Alias(s): Age: 12 Affiliations: Description: Powers:Memory Leech: Unlike many mind-readers, Aiko's ability to steal and view the memories of others is nearly impossible to stop. With many mind-readers, they use spiritual powers that allow them to gain a temporary access to the others' beings and then peek into their memories. This can be stopped with technology that has been in development for an awfully long time and even some powers permit a blocking of mind-reading. Aiko's ability is radically different but far superior. Instead of trying to coax out memories from their being, she easily gains access to their very mind and withdraws memories. This allows her to view someone's life placed in front of her without a single filter. On more than one occasion, she was even able to trace the life of cells in a body to the conception of that person, which was strange as she saw everything from conception to the modern day. So, theoretically, Aiko can access the memories of anyone with a functioning brain and the ability to store memories. The ability itself is immensely powerful considering there is nothing that can really stop her apart from simply killing her. Nevertheless, this is actually a viable method as the young girl has no offensive nor defensive abilities that could keep her safe. Far Sight: Reading someone's memory is an easy enough feat for the young powerhouse. The actual difficulty in her powers lie in her ability to see forward into the future and ultimately discern prophecies from distinct probabilities and improbabilities. She herself doesn't even know how the process works but she does know that her consciousness is scattered to the aether, to a higher dimension that allows her to view time as if it was a canvas laid out before her eyes much like viewing the memories of people. Nevertheless, she can see things that she should never be able to see. This could equally be described as a curse, however, as the young girl has seen her own life and everything that will happen to her. Of course, she sees things the way fate intends for them to go. The fates' design could prove to be inconsequential and one, given enough willpower, could go against their own plan. Aiko can see a diverging in the fates' plan when it happens and can quickly receive newer visions of what will happen due to it. Skills: Skills she can acquire from her powers. (see above) Knitting, top scores in Facebook game Farmville. Equipment: Cell phone, a stuffed cat. Ranking: SS (Optional) Brief History: She is one of the most powerful metas on the planet her powers have made it required she is observed from a distance. She hailed from Sendai but now is with our heroes at "the Beach"</s> <\|message\|>Marcus Collins Green Bullet Marcus watched as a newsflash came onto the tv screen in his safe house and the headlines massacre scrolled across in red letters. He recognized the area to be somewhere in LA and now he realized why there didn't seem to be as much police activity on the look out for the assassin that killed a politician. This massacre was a crime involving metahumans and anti metahuman protestors. His assassination work would most likely just be blamed on a normal human killer and not have any relations to metahumans. This incident made him curious and Marcus decided to go and investigate the crime scene and get some idea of the players involved in this game kill humans or metahumans, this might mean more money for him. He left the safe house and jumped up the roof of a nearby building. Moving as fast as his superhuman legs could carry him Marcus leaped from one building to the next until his vision spotted the crime scene. He got as close as could without being noticed and even from a distance he could see the blood of those slaughtered. It was almost like a scene from a movie with brutal the killings looked and he had seen his fair share of brutality. "By God's fury, now there's some innocent bloodshed that I've not seen in a long time" he said to himself, the reformists were already on the scene and he wondered how they would respond with this attack by the Underground. I didn't need to take sides immediately, he would watch and wait to see who would pay him the most for his services. Normally the group most desperate were the ones who reached deeper into their pockets for help. Pixel Pixel was riding on top of a flying saucer made of pixels that he created and while on his rounds above LA he noticed the crowds of people gathered at the crime scene were humans had been killed by the Underground movement. Some people looked on with awe and some with anger as he landed his pixel creation on the ground not too far away from the scene of the massacre and made the craft disappear. "My God, what happened here?" he asked himself as he created two pac-man ghosts, which went to have a look since they could fly and get over the blockade. "It looks like somebody slaughtered the people at the LA Center for Humans" one of the ghosts replied as they returned to him. Sam didn't have much kindness towards the group, but no amount verbal hate would warrent such a massacre and he felt angered at the culprits who did this. He clenched his fist in anger. "The savage idiots who did this are trying to ruin the peace that humans and metahumans are trying to maintain with each other. I can't wait to get my hands on the bastard that did this and make him pay and face proper justice" he said angrily to his pixel creations. "You humans sure do have problems accepting each other, we ghost all agree and work together for one thing, which is catch Pac-man" the other ghost replied.</s> <\|message\|>Light "Ok, I've got it." Light said, reattaching her arm, waving to Ian as she made her way to the downed officer, dislocating his arms while she also slashed at the bomb vest to get it off of him, storing what bits she got off inside her pocket space. the Officer tried to fight her off, but it didn't amount to much without working arms. Not feeling threatened much at all as a few other metas nearby were dealing with the other explosive jacket guys, Light took a casual look over the battlefield. A meta in armor was carrying some girl who he had just saved or rescued or whatever, Ian was dealing with his things, and another meta was protecting the crowd of people who Light was surprised got anywhere near this place. Still, the dead bodies were not a pleasant sight, and she guessed that she was called back to LA to deal with whoever was doing these terrorist attacks on the people. "Hey Ian, whenever everything settles down, we should catch up." Light said, tying the officer up with his own shirt. She looked at the armored meta and the girl in his arms and called out to them with a hello. -0h</s>	<\|message\|>Aiko Fujiwara "Lucas!" shouted out a voice from the nearby corridor, "don't scare the little girl!" And with that, a sixteen-year old young woman, with dyed-rainbow hair and wearing a T-Shirt and short shorts that left little to the imagination, ran to just beside the taller man. "I mean, seriously, don't be so miffed you didn't get a position you didn't deserve, anyway, Scrappy-Doo! Fact is, I'm interested in space, you're interested in space, but you're turning 'being interested in space' into a life-and-death matter!" Lizzie - for that was who the girl was, put her hands on her hips. "Liz," said Lucas, "I don't like being ridiculed, simple as that. Ian and Sable can believe whatever they want; their beliefs are just...well, how do I put it, too mundane. We need to focus Sapientkind's attention on what's up there, the stars, so that we would be able to channel our energies peacefully, or at least, sort of peacefully. And I am not about to work just to make others realize what should be...So. Fucking. Obvious." "It's my way or no way, and Ian and Sable have chosen no way." Lizzie rolled her eyes, then turned towards Aiko, holding out a bag of dried apple pieces. "Here, a gift," she said. "Thanks." Aiko replied. "I still can't tell him what he wants to know." she rplied to the younger of the two. "That's okay," Lizzie was smiling. "You don't have to answer him. Anyway, let's go to the Entertainment Room; watch some Star Wars. Or would you prefer a rom-com?" "I'll follow you guys," said Lucas, "I've got nothing better to do except lose to Edge. I mean, seriously, I only have hydrokinesis, and while conjuring up and controlling water is powerful to you, it's still not enough, still not enough to fix the world." "You cannot fix the world without hard work, just saying, nor can you fix the world without relying on somebody else at one point," Lizzie was already walking Aiko towards the entertainment room. "Well, too bad," Lucas was about to admit his true feelings. "I'm too jealous of Ian - he has everything - while I have nothing at all." "Didn't your profile say that you were kind, idealistic, and compassionate?" Lizzie had almost reached the entertainment room, "well I'm not seeing any of that." "Well, it's because I just realized I wasn't powerful enough to change the world, and no one is willing to lend me their power without caveats - I mean, seriously, I have a grand vision - get humanity to Space. People should be flocking to follow me on the strength of that vision alone -" "TSUNDERE KICK!" shouted Lizzie in allcaps, kicking Lucas in the stomach, but not using her super strength. Lucas staggered back, and said: "Sorry for being delusional by all objective standards. It's just that I've been drinking a lot lately and -" "Enough excuses, we're here," Lizzie said as they arrived in the entertainment room. "So," she turned to Aiko again, "want Star Wars, or a Rom Com?" "Star Wars, but episode 4." replied Aiko. She wanted pizza. "I can make Lucas forget about his desire to beat Edge." She smirked. "I want a pizza," Aiko wanted Pizza and did the sad eyes. "All right," said Lizzie. "Hey, Lukie!" she looked at Lucas, "get us some pizza; Four Cheeses!" With a frown, Lucas went off, and a few minutes later, just as the movie was starting, returned with a Pizza. "Well can I at least get a soda as well?" asked Aiko. Lucas frowned, and, after setting the pizza down, went back, and got three sodas. The three would then keep watching the movie, until Lizzie said something: "Hey," she said to Aiko, "I know I shouldn't mix business with pleasure, or pleasure with business, but what do you think of this?" The sixteen year-old then showed her iPad to Aiko, showing her the picture of a boy, also sixteen, with black hair and blue eyes and a sorrowful look. "Doesn't he look hot? Read the documentation that comes after the picture; it tells his story." Yes, Lizzie was talking about Jackson. Now Lucas felt he was justified in rolling his eyes. "Listen, I don't share my Church's view on Premarital Sex - it is, after all, the same Church that proclaims Reason and Faith as two sides of the same coin, yet condemned Galileo - but can you not lust after the bad boys? That kid's bad business, or at least two of his personalities are." Lucas did care for Lizzie, after all. Then he faced Aiko. "Hey, if you cannot tell my future, can you at least warn Liz' about how her getting boy-crazy will lead to her death?" "He looks cute but he seems a little mopey. I'd rather have a happier person. Not too happy just a person that gets cranky and actually can be happy." Aiko bit into her pizza. She did the inward blow as she cooled the hot cheese. Aiko did not want to ask about relationships it was not something she was fond of. "Anyways lets watch this movie!" replied Aiko. They were at the scene where Luke was dreaming about going off to explore the great wide galaxy, with Lizzie saying: "So, Aiko, happier now?" "Yes, but lets not talk about it." Aiko was watching the movie.</s>
<\|description\|>Alex Trebons Alias(s): Paladin, The Paladin Age: 24 Affiliations: Heroes. Factions: Independent. Description: Alex is an unassuming, somewhat scholarly looking young man. He works in a museum and looks the part, with somewhat messy brown hair, thick glasses, and a generally mousy demeanor. He bears himself in a way that seems to take a foot off his height and most of the broadness from his shoulders - he is, in general, a man nobody would think twice about. The Paladin persona, however, is nothing of the sort. The Paladin is a towering figure, clad from head to toe in steel armor that looks straight out of the Middle Ages. He tries to present himself as a larger-than-life ideal heroic figure, with varying success - to some, he may seem an angel, a mighty savior descended from on high to deliver the innocent. To others more accustomed to the world of the Gifted, he... may just seem like a dorky, old-fashioned weirdo. What's certain about him is that there seems to be no darkness in the man whatsoever. He is a tireless optimist, an incorrigible idealist, and an absolute puppy dog of a human being. He has yet to affiliate himself with the politics of his world, preferring to help out where he can as a 'small steps' sort of hero. Powers: Alex possesses, in addition to increased durability, strength and speed (think Captain America rather than Hulk or Thor), primarily photokinetic abilities - he has the power to manipulate and control light, even being able to create 'hard light' tools and objects. He mainly uses this to make glowing swords or shields out of pure light, being a stickler for his theme. He is also capable of producing light, being able to make his body 'glow' - this, however, tends to tire him out very quickly, leading to his powers being much less effective in a no-light environment. A side-effect of his light generation is that his body also tends to produce an immense amount of heat while he does so. He is able to survive this, being largely resistant to the effects of heat (though very vulnerable to cold temperatures), but anything else touching him when he gets warmed up may as well have touched the inside of an oven. Skills: He's not the most talented Gifted around, though he's put a lot of hours into practicing with his hard light weapons and so has become a capable combatant with those. Otherwise, he has little in the way of relevant talents - he's a History Major, in case that ever comes up. Oh, he's also a decent cook, should that matter. Equipment: His suit of armor is the only notable piece of equipment he owns - it's made of an alloy he doesn't fully understand that possesses both physical durability as well as confusing, sciency photon-storage properties. The upshot of all this is that it's a full body suit of armor that provides reasonable protection and glows when he pours light into it. It's pretty heavy though, so even in spite of his increased strength, his movements when inside it can be... awkward. The armor is his most prized possession, and he treasures it highly. Ranking: Upper B Rank. (Optional) Brief History: Alex was a normal boy with superpowers trying to get by in a world getting weirder every day. For most of his life, he hid what he was, hoping only that he wouldn't be noticed. That changed one night two years ago, when he met an older, technologically gifted Meta who was impressed by his character and convinced him to take a more active role in the world. Thus, The Paladin was born, with the help of a suit of armor crafted for him by his mentor, and the new knight began his daylight patrol of city streets and dark alleyways, seeking to spread light and hope wherever he was able.</s> <\|message\|>Fletcher Parkmen Fletcher woke with a jolt sweat dripping down his forehead, sitting up he rubbed his forehead looking at his damp hands another nightmare. He had been plagued by these nightmares. He could never remember what they were about, he just knew that every night he dreaded closing eyes and going to sleep. Whatever these nightmares were about they sure as hell scared him. Jumping out of bed he rubbed his mustache as he looked at himself in the full length mirror that made up the doors to his walk-in wardrobe. These nightmares were troubling but he had other things on his mind. Leaving the room he made himself breakfast and teleported to the local store to buy a newspaper. Teleporting back just as his toast popped out of the toaster he started spreading butter as he read the paper. The main story was about a terrorist attack on LA Center for non-metas. Fletcher dropped the toast, he had to report this! Teleporting into his room he threw open his wardrobe and got dressed as fast as he could. Grabbing his jacket and reporting things he teleported to LA into an alleyway. Smiling he tapped his head, he had forgotten his hat. Teleporting back to his home in Washington he grabbed his hat of his coat rack and then returned to LA. "Much better" He said to himself. Stepping out of the alleyway he began to do his thing, gathering information from the locals he began snooping around the scene and more importantly the police. The "Terrorists" were part of the group called the Underground movement. He had heard that name before, but only as a rumor. From what he had gathered they were a group of meta's who had no problems using violence to get their point across. The thought made his blood boil, he was a meta and to have this group essentially representing him and painting all meta's in such a bad light was infuriating. Looking at the sky he saw it was getting dark, snapping his notebook shut he would write up the story later. He wanted to look one more time around the city. However it didn't take long for LA's night to start with a bang. He heard the scream of a woman coming from the right of him, teleporting back to Washington he telported into his costume and telported straight back to LA around the area of the scream. He found the source quickly blood bodies and a man splattered in blood emerging from the building. "Jesus Christ!" Fletcher had seen his fair share of blood and bodies in England but this was ridiculous. Then the fighting began a Meta wearing armour and some other reformist leader appeared. Both attacking the other people who followed the trench coat man out of the building. "what are you doing don't you realize that you're just painting us Meta's in a bad light. Are you just stupid?! How does that." He pointed at the open doors. "Prove anything except that none of us are capable of reasonable thinking?!" He saw the reformist offer the man in armour a box. He accepted the box of sweets and nodded. "I will get the civilian to safety, then return to cover you. Should you have any need of direct assistance, do call for me, and I will come as quickly as I am able." Holding the box under his arm and probably crushing most of the goodies within, the Paladin took off running towards the woman - more of a girl, really, getting closer to her. "Apologies, my lady, but the hour is much too desperate for chivalry!" he shouted out as he grabbed at her and kept running, already forming a thick bubble of hard light to protect his passenger from harm. "Hey Holy Knight? I'm a Teleporter need a hand getting these people out of harms way? Or you Reformist man? You need a hand either or should I consider you an enemy?!" Fletcher may be a hero but he wasn't going to make a move until they said something. This reformist fella could hurt someone if he wasn't careful then he would be an enemy. A simple 20'000 foot drop would finish him. This Paladin guy though he defiantly seemed a good guy.</s> <\|message\|>Ian Sebastian Lyone Not long after Nancy made contact with Edge, a scream full of agony and despair tore through the base, likely interrupting the woman's response to the movement's leader. These would continue for a short while longer before stopping with a sudden quickness. Something that anyone who had been apart of the movement for any length of time would find odd. The screaming usually went on for at least an hour, usually more. The sound of a door slamming open was the next sudden sound to come, followed by a set of harsh footsteps coming from down the way. It wasn't long before a young man walked into Nancy's office, and with him came the heavy metallic smell of blood, a surer sign than the screaming that he had been enjoying his hobbies again. If Nancy looked up from her computer at the man, she would notice something else strange about him, his lack of a smile. He was usually always smiling, no matter what horrible, depraved deed he was taking part in, but right now his face was set in a rather childish pout. One that really didn't fit this man if you knew him well enough. "I've got a new body for you, Nancy," Sebastian said rather disinterestedly as he sat down somewhere in the room that seemed relatively stable. "Oh, and you know that cliche in movies where the psychopath tortures people while quoting literature and scripture, well I tried it with this one, but it was beyond dull and really distracted me from the fun of the work. The guy might have a big gaping hole in his chest from when I decided to just call the quits, but I doubt that matters much anyway. Everything important to his movement and motor skills is mostly undamaged." Letting out a sigh, the psychopathic haemokinetic sadist began to fiddle with his red hair, looking down at his blood-stained clothes. He made a single motion with his hand and the blood rose off from his clothes, a white long-sleeved T-shirt, black jeans, and a pair of loose fitting sandals. His bright green eyes looked around the messy office, the blood forming a small sphere in his hands that he began to twist and turn into various geometric shapes. "Nancy, do you have any minions to spare, cause I need to beat the crap out of something and watch it bleed, even if it is the weird black gunk that they have, or maybe I can play with Issac again, that's always fun to do." Sebastian snickered to himself a little, cheering up at the thought of kicking the crap out of the mutated Meta. Tearing zombies to pieces was fun, but they didn't feel any pain, which took quite a bit of the fun out of the activity for him. Getting back on to his feet, he'd walk around the woman's desk to look over her shoulder at whatever she was doing on the computer. "Hmm, looks like you won't be getting to use those idiots at Center for material now that the Reformist's number one Mascot and poster-boy have arrived on the scene. I don't know why Edge let the Blackwood guy escape, it would be better to kill him now and get it over with, but hey, who am I to question the motives of our oh-so brilliant leader. I still say a better message would've been to blow up a corporate building or something. More attention grabbing and likely to actually help Meta's." Sebastian turned his emerald gaze to nancy, a smile splitting his face into as he continued to speak. "If you ask me, I think the whole 'for Meta's everywhere' line is just his excuse to kill people. He should just accept his insanity and do what I do, kill for the sake of it, and bask in the suffering of everyone around you. Torture is a very, very relaxing past time once you get the hang of it."</s> <\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya Aya was still frozen when a group of people emerged out of seemingly nowhere to surround Edge. Then the gunfire started. This time Aya really did scream. The people around her erupted into panic and began scrambling every which way, but the large armored man who'd jumped down shortly before seemed unfazed. She was still trying to get her bearings, her ears ringing from the gunshots, when another man, younger than the first, materialized in a blur. Before she even comprehended what was going on, the knight was charging at her, scooping her up in a none too delicate grip. Adrenaline potent as it thrummed through her veins, she reacted in fear before she could even comprehend what was going on. "No, no let me go!" she shouted as she began squirming in his arms her mind ran through years of training, but it was hard to flip someone when you had no leverage to work with. So she pushed against him, trying vainly to escape his grasp. A burst of light enveloped them and on a terrified impulse, Aya shut her eyes and shoved her hand up at her savior's face, finally managing to escape his grasp. She expected a harsh impact with the street – but it never came. When she opened her eyes again, she saw the astral plane. Suddenly, the overwhelming LA heat, city smells, the pain of being held against hard metal armor, all disappeared. Sounds became muffled, as if Aya had cloth over her ears. The world was dark around her, objects and people outlined with brilliant stars, hinting at their shapes and colors. Only her spirit, and the spirit of the man holding her carried the same colors as in life. Aya's eyes widened as they darted from the stranger's spirit to the shimmering outline of their physical bodies, her own still in his grasp, still as statues. "Oh my god," she whispered, taking a step backwards, away from the man. She'd been doing so well. She'd managed to stay under the radar in a city so rife with Meta politics. It'd been over a year since she'd used her power. Another twilit man materialized next to their bodies, speaking to them – or rather, speaking to the knight. Apparently she didn't warrant any consideration. In spite of the situation, a bubble of annoyance rose in her stomach. But it was quickly smothered with fear again as she looked down at her hands, to the knight, to their bodies. "I –… I…" Her mind drew a blank as she tried to think of what to say. What was there to say? Sorry I just ripped your soul out of your body, please don't hurt me? She just snapped her mouth shut and stared at him with wide eyes, watching him like a cornered animal would, ready to jump at the slightest action. @Nytefall</s>	<\|message\|>Alex Trebons "My lady, I am here for your - " The knight's attempted reassuring words were cut off in a flash of white as the girl shoved her hand into his faceplate. Suddenly, the pair were standing apart from each other, in a world of dark, washed-out shadows and brilliant constellations. The Paladin jerked from side to side, trying to get his bearings straight. What had happened? Was this an attack? Had the same meta who'd comitted the attack somehow transported them to this strange place? He raised his fist and tried to direct light around it, trying to make a torch, cast away some of the darkness. His powers did not respond. He looked back to the girl, who was stammering not far from him. "My lady, have no fear. Whatever foul power this is, I will..." His voice trailed off as he caught the look in her eyes, wild, desperate, terrified... guilty? "... You did this." Obviously, there was more to the girl than had previously met the eye. Had she attacked him? Was this some act of malice designed to hinder or impede him? Alex rejected the theory out of hand. Even if it wasn't entirely against his principles to assume malice when other explanations were available, the way the girl was quivering like a leaf seemed to belay that theory. An accident, then. The Paladin brought his armored hands up in an attempted placating gesture. "My lady, I mean you no harm. It seems that, in our misunderstanding, we may have been taken somewhere we should like very much not to be... where are we? What do these constellations mean? How do we get back?"</s>
<\|description\|>Alex Trebons Alias(s): Paladin, The Paladin Age: 24 Affiliations: Heroes. Factions: Independent. Description: Alex is an unassuming, somewhat scholarly looking young man. He works in a museum and looks the part, with somewhat messy brown hair, thick glasses, and a generally mousy demeanor. He bears himself in a way that seems to take a foot off his height and most of the broadness from his shoulders - he is, in general, a man nobody would think twice about. The Paladin persona, however, is nothing of the sort. The Paladin is a towering figure, clad from head to toe in steel armor that looks straight out of the Middle Ages. He tries to present himself as a larger-than-life ideal heroic figure, with varying success - to some, he may seem an angel, a mighty savior descended from on high to deliver the innocent. To others more accustomed to the world of the Gifted, he... may just seem like a dorky, old-fashioned weirdo. What's certain about him is that there seems to be no darkness in the man whatsoever. He is a tireless optimist, an incorrigible idealist, and an absolute puppy dog of a human being. He has yet to affiliate himself with the politics of his world, preferring to help out where he can as a 'small steps' sort of hero. Powers: Alex possesses, in addition to increased durability, strength and speed (think Captain America rather than Hulk or Thor), primarily photokinetic abilities - he has the power to manipulate and control light, even being able to create 'hard light' tools and objects. He mainly uses this to make glowing swords or shields out of pure light, being a stickler for his theme. He is also capable of producing light, being able to make his body 'glow' - this, however, tends to tire him out very quickly, leading to his powers being much less effective in a no-light environment. A side-effect of his light generation is that his body also tends to produce an immense amount of heat while he does so. He is able to survive this, being largely resistant to the effects of heat (though very vulnerable to cold temperatures), but anything else touching him when he gets warmed up may as well have touched the inside of an oven. Skills: He's not the most talented Gifted around, though he's put a lot of hours into practicing with his hard light weapons and so has become a capable combatant with those. Otherwise, he has little in the way of relevant talents - he's a History Major, in case that ever comes up. Oh, he's also a decent cook, should that matter. Equipment: His suit of armor is the only notable piece of equipment he owns - it's made of an alloy he doesn't fully understand that possesses both physical durability as well as confusing, sciency photon-storage properties. The upshot of all this is that it's a full body suit of armor that provides reasonable protection and glows when he pours light into it. It's pretty heavy though, so even in spite of his increased strength, his movements when inside it can be... awkward. The armor is his most prized possession, and he treasures it highly. Ranking: Upper B Rank. (Optional) Brief History: Alex was a normal boy with superpowers trying to get by in a world getting weirder every day. For most of his life, he hid what he was, hoping only that he wouldn't be noticed. That changed one night two years ago, when he met an older, technologically gifted Meta who was impressed by his character and convinced him to take a more active role in the world. Thus, The Paladin was born, with the help of a suit of armor crafted for him by his mentor, and the new knight began his daylight patrol of city streets and dark alleyways, seeking to spread light and hope wherever he was able.</s> <\|message\|>Fletcher Parkmen Fletcher was concerned about these new people popping up left and right, what he had to deal with were these bomb strapped fellas. They seemed intent on running into the crowd, possibly to cause mass casualties by blowing themselves up. Fletcher acted in an instant teleporting to the dead eyed person who was the closest to the crowd, giving the man no time to react he teleported him away from the crowd on top of a building out of the way. Fletcher was no bomb genius and did not want to give him a moment to detonate the bomb. Teleporting it of his chest and off into a desolate desert. Putting the person into a choke hold he hand cuffed him. Reappearing with the hand cuffed man he proceed to engage the next bomb-man the exact same way. As teleporting back with the two hand cuffed he left them in the hands of e policemen and reappeared back at the building. The whole scene seemed to be wrapping itself up with another meta getting involved to help clear away and take down the assailants. The Knight man was just standing their with the girl in his arms. Walking up to him he patted him on the shoulder. "Hey buddy, looks like it's all wrapping up here it's safe to put her down now." There was no reply. "Mate? You there?"</s> <\|message\|>Aiko Fujiwara Aiko Fujiwara Aiko Fujiwara was training at the Reformist Council in LA. She was not sure why they wanted something as powerful as her her at the reformists. Aiko was happy on the island with her aunt and uncle it was a small fishing island where there were more cats than people. She at least had a good relationship with her aunt and uncle was unsure why this old woman took her to Los Anglese. The island allowed her the ability not to be inudated by mental images hitting her from all directions. Aiko haed the instructor whomever it was he was a jerk. She was going to call and ask to be sent to island. At least the island was calm and uninteresting. She would not be able to see into others minds and alter them when she was on the island. Why was she here was the only thought she had and her reply to it was. She did not know and she just wanted to go home.</s> <\|message\|>Lucas Abd-al-Yasu (Lucas, Servant of Jesus, the Anti-Eli) Lucas Abd-al-Yasu walked towards Aiko's room; he wasn't the instructor, but he had some questions to ask her, questions about the past and future. For, you see, Lucas, normally an idealistic soul, had broken down, and the reason for said breakdown was that things did not go his way. Why had things not gone his way? Well, basically, he got passed up for promotion to an adminsitrative position, even though he was so much better, or at least, his vision for what the world should be was. Don't be like that, he chastised himself. That way lies hubris. It's my emotional comfort in an uncomfortable world, his own insecurities replied, without my ideals, I am nothing. Those were his thoughts as he knocked on Aiko's door. "Yes?" asked the accented English of Aiko from behind the door. "It's not your instructor, but I did come here to ask you something," Lucas then remembered to introduce himself. "My name is Lucas Abd-al-Yasu, and I need someone with your powers." "What is it?" asked Aiko cautiously. "Because I doubt my head's policies, and I need the help of someone who can see possible futures to see if those doubts have any meat to them," Lucas was now opening himself up. "Because I have this flaw, that I'm rigid and inflexible, while I think Auntie Sable's policies are just too...cynical and..." he looked around him, "weak. Basically, what I'm saying is: I want to know, am I being a baby, or should I oppose my head's polciies?" "Doing that is difficult it requires energy and a lot of effort. Also I cannot control where it goes. It could be a possiblity and not the real future. So you could be preparing for something that never comes." Aiko replied through the door. "Then show me a future where I lose," said Lucas. "Show me a future where I lose, so that I never have the pride to air such views again." Aiko came out of her room. "Alright I will look but don't do nothing ...creepy." Aiko told Lucas. "I won't," Lucas promised, "sorry if I gave that impression." "You want to know the future, the bad future, so yes I think you are creepy. I mean are you really that desperate to humble yourself? Just use your own imagination." Aiko told Lucas. "Well, this is fruitless," said Lucas. "Yes it is because I already saw a bad future. A future where the reformists loose and the government rounds up the metas. They have killed all of them. You were shot in the bathroom at an Applebees while hiding. So it is a version of Days of Futures Past." "I don't believe that," said Lucas, "I believe, for some reasom, that the Underground Movement will win. Sorry to be my own variety of Debbie Downer, but in my travels around the world, putting our brushfires, I've long since given up hope that my ideals, of Meta and Human coexistence, can ever be put in place. Humans and Metas have so much to gain by cooperating, but the desire to control is Sapient Nature, and I myself have it. Should I join the battle brewing at the Human Centre, I'll lose, and there will be nothing." A flash of anger appeared in Lucas' eyes, and he spoke: "Why am I so inadequate? Why am I such a loser? I killed the 'Caliph' of IS, but when I think of fighting that 'Edge' guy, a chilling certainty tells me that (Edit: he's too strong for me.)" "But, at the same time, I cannot kill myself, I cannot die, I want to continue on, I want to win. It's just that, I can't win, the future is already set; Edge will win, and we are all doomed." "You think the outcome of a winning over Edge will result in an age of peace? Peace does not exsist without work. But killing Edge will just have another enemy replace him. You think I think this world is easy? Terrorsim I could stop? Possible horrible leaders. See my problem is I can't tell the difference between the true future and a possiblity. No amount of training will make the true future visible to me. The reason is I cannot see the true future until it becomes the present. I have stopped trying to see the future at least intetionally." Aiko sighed. "All I want is to go home and to be with my Aunt and Uncle. I's like to help but I can't tell what will be a win for you. Last time I listened to my insticts I ended up leaving the island and coming to LA. But I could try." Aiko rubbed her eyes. "Please, do," said Lucas.</s> <\|message\|>Elijah Craigh EDGE He wouldn't say another word till getting back. It seemed like the most important members have heeded the call. Oddly enough they we're all in Nancy's office, each one pissing and moaning about what should have been. He listened to each one carefully. Do they not see it? The bigger plan, the plan that would put Metahumans at the top. Such foolishness. "The Reformist's have shown their hands. They have no one that can stop us and the plans that have been set into motion. This is merely the first salvo in the war too come. Small and measured testing that will lead to much bigger things. War is a marathon, not sprint. What comes next will be the blood bath you've all wanted. Have no fear on that score." EDGE said as he took off his trench coat. He special assignments for each of them, a church here, a hospital there. Chaos will rub rampant before they take over and resort order. "Savor this small victory. What comes next won't be near as easy." EDGE with certain malice in his voice.</s>	<\|message\|>Alex Trebons A smile, obscured by the helmet, spread over Alex's face as he turned this way and that, marveling at the shimmering points of light all around him. "Remarkable," he breathed. "And you can see what it all means? That is... quite a power you have, my lady." The Paladin shook his head and forced himself back to business. A new shape had appeared next to his - someone was trying to talk to him. Add to that the fact that the fight might still be going on, the civilians might still be in danger... there was really no time to admire this girl's strange, beautiful world. "Yes. Take us back." The knight extended a hand to grasp hers gently. "On your time."</s>
<\|description\|>Alex Trebons Alias(s): Paladin, The Paladin Age: 24 Affiliations: Heroes. Factions: Independent. Description: Alex is an unassuming, somewhat scholarly looking young man. He works in a museum and looks the part, with somewhat messy brown hair, thick glasses, and a generally mousy demeanor. He bears himself in a way that seems to take a foot off his height and most of the broadness from his shoulders - he is, in general, a man nobody would think twice about. The Paladin persona, however, is nothing of the sort. The Paladin is a towering figure, clad from head to toe in steel armor that looks straight out of the Middle Ages. He tries to present himself as a larger-than-life ideal heroic figure, with varying success - to some, he may seem an angel, a mighty savior descended from on high to deliver the innocent. To others more accustomed to the world of the Gifted, he... may just seem like a dorky, old-fashioned weirdo. What's certain about him is that there seems to be no darkness in the man whatsoever. He is a tireless optimist, an incorrigible idealist, and an absolute puppy dog of a human being. He has yet to affiliate himself with the politics of his world, preferring to help out where he can as a 'small steps' sort of hero. Powers: Alex possesses, in addition to increased durability, strength and speed (think Captain America rather than Hulk or Thor), primarily photokinetic abilities - he has the power to manipulate and control light, even being able to create 'hard light' tools and objects. He mainly uses this to make glowing swords or shields out of pure light, being a stickler for his theme. He is also capable of producing light, being able to make his body 'glow' - this, however, tends to tire him out very quickly, leading to his powers being much less effective in a no-light environment. A side-effect of his light generation is that his body also tends to produce an immense amount of heat while he does so. He is able to survive this, being largely resistant to the effects of heat (though very vulnerable to cold temperatures), but anything else touching him when he gets warmed up may as well have touched the inside of an oven. Skills: He's not the most talented Gifted around, though he's put a lot of hours into practicing with his hard light weapons and so has become a capable combatant with those. Otherwise, he has little in the way of relevant talents - he's a History Major, in case that ever comes up. Oh, he's also a decent cook, should that matter. Equipment: His suit of armor is the only notable piece of equipment he owns - it's made of an alloy he doesn't fully understand that possesses both physical durability as well as confusing, sciency photon-storage properties. The upshot of all this is that it's a full body suit of armor that provides reasonable protection and glows when he pours light into it. It's pretty heavy though, so even in spite of his increased strength, his movements when inside it can be... awkward. The armor is his most prized possession, and he treasures it highly. Ranking: Upper B Rank. (Optional) Brief History: Alex was a normal boy with superpowers trying to get by in a world getting weirder every day. For most of his life, he hid what he was, hoping only that he wouldn't be noticed. That changed one night two years ago, when he met an older, technologically gifted Meta who was impressed by his character and convinced him to take a more active role in the world. Thus, The Paladin was born, with the help of a suit of armor crafted for him by his mentor, and the new knight began his daylight patrol of city streets and dark alleyways, seeking to spread light and hope wherever he was able.</s> <\|message\|>Marcus Collins Marcus leaped from one building to the next at speeds that seemed inhuman as well the fact that he was leaping well over a hundred with every jump. He needed to get to his target as quick as possible before they made his assassination more difficult. This job would see almost a million bucks in his pockets and to make this job even better, the women he was assassinating was a member of the British parliament. He would take great pleasure in putting a bullet in this Brit's brain. His mind for a short moment went back to the memory of his father's murder and his hatred rose up inside of him. "Time to send this buck toothed Bure to God" he said to himself as his target came into a little ways down the street getting a vehicle that was being escorted by several guards. Once in position, Marcus quickly took out his sniper rifle and took aim at the vehicle. For a normal human the shot would have been very difficult, but his incredible senses and his fast thinking brain made the shot more easier. "Goodnight lassie" he said and the pulled the trigger. The bullet flew its course and found its target going right through the skull of the female politician. "Gotcha!" Marcus exclaimed and then made his escape, moving at speeds ten times faster than an athletic human. Now he needed to get away as fast as possible before he would have to fight off the authorities. After he had gotten away and made back to his safe house, Marcus contacted his contractors and received his money for his job well done. Now he was waiting for his next job and even though it didn't really matter to him Marcus still kept up on the situation with humans and metahumans. He had taken jobs for organizations who hired metahuman hit men and they paid handsomely. Maybe sometime soon they would offer him work.</s> <\|message\|>Isaac Grimes Beauty and the Beast: Part Two "Ha!" Ellen blurted with all the sarcasm she could muster. "You think you are just sooo clever trying to analyze people but you are just trying so hard to fill that trope that you have to be some psychotic slag." She sounded irritated but the reality was that Ellen Bowers was cold and heartless at this point. She couldn't give two shits about 'Sebastian the Wannabe Lector', or his attempt at trying to size her up. He didn't know shit about her actual situation, she never told him. He was just pulling shit out of his ass and spewing the same old bullshit that the media liked to say. "Pfft!" Ellen spat with a grin before Sebastian even had a chance to finish. "Oh please, don't give me that bullshit, Sebastian. You can put on this act all you want, but in the end you're just some shithead who jerks it in his own pool of blood. And nothing will ever cha- Ack! God!" Ellen was suddenly interrupted by Nancy's fevered attempts at sloppily waving a bag in front of Ellen's flawless face. She had even forgot Nancy was still in the room with all of Sebastian's attempts at strutting about. With nothing held back for her colleague, Ellen rudely shoved Nancy's little forehead away. "No thanks, loser!" She added with a scowl but that would have been her reaction regardless of the chips being poisoned or not. To Ellen, there was no difference between a oily Cheeto and one laced with Ricin. "Losers! All of you!" She shook her head and threw up her hands, signalling her intent to resign. "I cannot believe I'm stuck here babysitting this lot..." She muttered in resentment as she turned and stormed out into the hallway and around the corner. - Meanwhile, Isaac had been taking it all in. He wasn't much for words but he would never tune out of a conversation. It was actually a scary concept to see the constant bickering among the Underground Members. There was no sense of camaraderie, it seemed, and everyone appeared to be tied together by loose string, all pulling and tugging at them to get free. EDGE, himself, was that string and there was a lot riding on him. It was times like these, and many others by unrelated facts, that made Isaac reconsider his position. The Underground promised results and revenge but it all seemed so volatile. The flips side of that was the Reformist but progress over there seemed so painfully slow and Isaac was in disagreement with their methods. But it seemed a heck of a lot safer. Sebastian's question snapped Isaac back to the conversation. He honestly wasn't ever phased by Sebastian's taunts and always kept a cool head. He had become accustomed to taunts and insults growing up that they never penetrated the skin. In response to Sebastian's offer, Isaac merely shrugged and grunted, not really sure if Sebastian really intended on sparring. It didn't seem like his thing to do. The sound of crinkling soon after his grunt, brought Isaac to the smaller figure in front of him. Nancy was insisting on sharing a snack in a rather gleeful manner. Gently, Isaac grabbed Nancy's cold wrist and lowered. "No thank you, Nancy." He said softly, not even realizing that he had just turned down poisoned puffs and rather said no on his instinct that he 'just wasn't hungry.' Nancy's interruption was rather timely in jogging his memory, however. He had to admit to being really curious about the official response of authorities everywhere. "Hey, Nancy. I don't suppose you know what's happening out there right now?" Isaac asked in politely, finally releasing the girl's hands.</s> <\|message\|>Aya Lynn Germain Aya Five times, Aya thought to herself as the knight addressed her once again. Shifting uncomfortably, she looked down as he marveled at her power. Sure it was pretty to look at, but what good was it really? Besides, it'd never been something she'd been particularly proud of anyway. She forced herself to breathe as she felt his hand on hers. All she had to do was use her power again, but the thought made her hesitate – the image of her father's face appeared in her mind. His sad eyes as he realized what his daughter was, how he tried to smile through the pain for her, as though making some false reassurance… Aya cut herself off by snapping her and the man back into their bodies. Sensation rushed back into the world, the LA heat, the mass or colors, the sounds of the fight… The sharp metal edges of the knight's armor were once again digging into her skin. There was another man standing behind him, with a hand on the knight's shoulder. Though his voice had been slightly muffled from beyond the veil, it was now clear as day in Aya's still ringing ears. She hurried to climb down from her 'savior's' arms, swaying a bit as her shaky legs struggled to support her, but quickly finding her balance. "Um," she started, "Right, well… thank you." Aya shifted away from him, feeling vulnerable with this man who now knew her secret. She glanced between the two strangers, then back down the block. The commotion was too far away for Aya to make out clearly, but it seemed like fighting was still going on. Something pulled in her to go and… do something. Help. But what was she supposed to do? How could she be expected to keep up with people like Edge, or people carrying guns? Besides, this wasn't her fight. But even as she told herself that, she chewed her lip in uncertainty. Wasn't this her fight? She was a Meta after all, no matter how much she hid it. But no. Aya had no place in fights or politics or any of that. The image of Edge emerging from the building, blood and bodies clearly visible behind him, flashed through her mind and she shuddered. Giving her head a small shake, she turned her attention back to the knight. "I'll just, uh, go then. If you need to… help over there or something, you can go. I'm fine. Thanks. Again." Her cheeks began to color as her stammering went on, and she quickly turned on her heel. She was ready to leave the knight and the bodies behind, and hide in the relative safety of her apartment. Of her normal life. Though it seemed she'd be taking the path through the ghetto home today.</s> <\|message\|>Clementine Mercer. Clementine Mercer --- The movement of the crowd was now readily apparent to Clem as she stumbled out into the open and toward an alleyway down the street from the L.A. Center for Humans. Sat in the alleyway was her salvation. Silver and shining dimly as it reflected the light from her entrance into the alley. So mysterious and alluring in its solitude, she felt herself being willed towards it. She couldn't stop herself, as her stomach pulled her forward toward this argent anomaly before her. She reached out her hand, quick but sluggish as time seemed to slow around her. Its surface was cool. Smooth. With a clatter, she lifted the lid off of the trash can and promptly threw up. So much blood, so many dead in that center. It was sickening, it was barbaric. She could feel her insides churning and gurgling as she horked up the remainder of the strawberry smoothie she has been nursing earlier. A deluge of pink goop, thrown into the open trashcan as she lifted herself from the trash, and put the lid back on in disgust. At both what she had seen, and herself. A gloopy chunk of pink froth clung to her pristine white hair, like the aftermath of a bubblegum bubble-bath. The acrid smell was going to take ages to come out. The images of the dead were never going to, on the other hand. Those people. They may have been misguided and bigoted, but they were still people. No one deserved to have their fate decided for them like that. Clementine mused to herself as she rubbed at her rumbling stomach, now empty and burning as was her throat. She spat pink and red onto the floor of the alley and swiped at her phone with one hand, as the other shook itself clean of leftover smoothie and stomach acid. Those people were just people, and the fact that they were attacked like that only meant that no one was safe, and that something was stirring up. Clementine had to protect herself. To find a safe haven, and protect herself but she's just a girl, what could she do besides buy a gun? She paused for a second, before starting to tap away on her phone. She knew of a way to protect herself, but she would need some help. And some money.</s>	<\|message\|>Alex Trebons Alex jerked his head slightly as he was returned to the world of the physical. He felt the girl scrambling out of his grasp and released her quickly - the danger, it seemed, had passed. Someone was talking to him. "Mate? You there?" The Paladin cleared his throat. "Ah, yes. Apologies, my friend, I was just having something of an... out of body experience." Considering the girl's timid reaction to the use of her powers, it would... probably be polite not to let slip what had just happened. If she wished to hide her nature, that was her right. He looked around again. The scene certainly seemed to be wrapped up - the henchmen were dealt with, the people were safe, and the murderous meta was nowhere to be seen. It would have been better if he could have been apprehended, though in a situation like this perhaps it was simply better that nobody else had been hurt. "It seems to me that the rest of you have handled matters very well in my absence. You should well be proud. I... suppose if you have no further need of me, I will take my leave." The knight turned and began to trudge off, his cloak dragging on the ground. At another thought, he turned again. "Take care of yourself, my lady. And thank you for the... invitation."</s>
<\|description\|>Fletcher Parkmen Alias: Blink Gender: Male Age: 23 Affiliation: The Heroes Faction: None General Clothes: In-costume Jacob completes this costume with a mask to cover his face. Jacob isn't psychically very strong he goes the the gym and looks after himself but he's no body builder. Powers: Fletcher can Teleport to literally any place he has visited and can remember. This is only limited by his mental willpower he could if he wanted to teleport a whole building but in doing so it would overload his brain and cause him to have several seizure or strokes. He can comfortably teleport a maximum of 4 people or a Van (with nobody inside), anymore and it starts to take a toll on him both physically and mentally. Fletcher does not have to teleport with the object or person he teleports. Fletcher needs to be able to concentrate on his target so if he was in pain or had a headache (basically distracted) he would not be able to focus on the location. Fletcher's power works through physicals touch, so he must touch the thing he want to teleport. Skills: - Trained in Jujutsu and is a Black belt in the Art - Journalist - Eidetic Memory - Natural Charmer - Street Smart Equipment: - Camera - Notepad - Mechanical Pencil - Collapsible Steel Baton Rank: A Background: Fletcher lived a rather ordinary life, went to school excelled in his lessons and passed his GCSE's with flying colours. Than his mother died, a Brain Tumour the doctors were baffled as to how such a thing went unnoticed. She just went to sleep and never woke up. This all happened when he was 16. Fletcher mourned and got on with his life, his Father didn't. He became a raging alcoholic and when Fletcher finished Sixth form his father died from Alcohol poisoning. Fletcher was distraught but not surprised, orphaned Fletcher looked for a job not finding one he decided to work as a journalist and instantly found his calling. Landing 12 good stories he managed to earn enough money to buy a small apartment. Second is the story after receiving their abilities. After 31 amazing stories that all landed him a nice bag of cash Fletcher turned his eye to Photography. Instantly he took to it, and spent a year of his life using his camera to help him gather evidence for his stories. Of course he went down a dark road of using blackmail to get what he wanted, but that is all in the past. After he discovered his power he abused quite a lot. Stealing a lot of money in order to move to Washington and buy himself a small and well stocked house full of everything he wanted. He soon grew bored and guilty of this and decided to stop stealing and to only use his power for good. He thought of himself as Superman. Journalist by day and Hero by night. Now he's working on a big story that he hopes will provide him with some answers...</s> <\|message\|>Jonathan Lines Jonathan Jon grimaced as he came to a halt on a street corner, turning his mouth into the crook of his elbow to let out a cough that sounded as miserable as he felt, while waiting patiently for the cross sign to turn green. The lights blurred as his eyes watered, once again mentally restraining himself from sneezing like a madman for the umpteenth time today, oh what a joy it was to be him. Four weeks had passed now and Jon was still sick, his GP was baffled by the rapid appearances of symptoms and the constant bruising and grazes he seemed to gain overnight without knowledge. It was like he was cursed or something. Today had left him more worn out than usual, slumped over his handlebars he almost missed the lights while watching the shadows play on the pavement. He groaned softly to himself as he got the bike in motion, frowning as he thought back on today. His boss Rebecca had been getting on his case lately, like it was his fault he was sick all the time and how he should be more like Jerry who had the good grace to recover fast from his cold while working in the shop and once again he had been assigned to stacking boxes in the back, followed by sitting on his ass whilst he watched the minutes tick by. God Rebecca can be such a bitc... He sat up suddenly at the sound of gunfire, from just around the corner, ripped from his thoughts by the startling sound. "Jesus.." He muttered, squeezing the brakes to bring his bike to a stop, the sound of a commotion emanating just out of his sight. Fear held him still for some time as he strained to hear what was going on, sweat trickled down his spine as he sat poised on his bike, ready to move at the first signs of danger. Shockingly enough to Jon he found himself dismount his bike, gently resting it against the sidewalk as he moved along at a crouch toward the scene, curiosity finally getting the better of him. Nervously he peeked around the corner, a small crowd of people was all he saw, yet it looked like they were about to face off against each other. His heart raced in his chest as he slowly looked out from his cover again, he might just be lucky enough to witness a battle between Metas.</s> <\|message\|>Light Light was having a good time traveling along the streets of LA, visiting her usual stops after having spent a good amount of time abroad doing whatever missions the Government wanted her to do. She was a bit thankful that she wasn't being swarmed by fans having not been in LA for quite some time as she grabbed some food, jumping into one of her portals before people realized who she was. Appearing on top of a billboard Light started to eat her lunch. "Man, its nice being able to travel the world and get meals for free, but I don't know if I like being so famous." She thought to herself, noticing the billboard she was on was an advertisement for a soda brand that had her face plastered all over it. "If its not being swarmed by fans, its being a target for those anti meta groups. oy... Being shot isn't fun." Thinking about that, she looked around the area where anti metas were often hold up, and noticed some smoke coming from that direction. "Yay... I'd better check this out before I get a call about it. Better to be already there then doing something embarrassing again." Pulling out a portal from her dress, Light made her way over to the fight in front of the human meta relationship building. When she started to get near, Light could now hear gunshots and when she could overlook the situation, she noticed that there were a lot of bodies in piles, with some masked people carrying them away while some officers were shooting a guy. "Well, this is confusing. What the heck is going on down there?" Light said, noticing that while some cops were attacking a meta, others were trying to stop them and save the meta. "Well... They probably have that. The body thing is a lot more suspicious. Why would anyone want dead bodies?" Jumping down from her perch, Light made her way to intercept one of the masked guys who were carrying bodies off. "What are you doing? Did you kill all these people? Carrying off bodies is mighty suspicious..." Light said, getting in a ready stance as she got in the way of the masked man who had just picked up a couple bodies. While he did look quite big, Light wasn't too worried. While she had a thin frame, she was very strong.</s>	<\|message\|>Fletcher Parkmen Fletcher woke with a jolt sweat dripping down his forehead, sitting up he rubbed his forehead looking at his damp hands another nightmare. He had been plagued by these nightmares. He could never remember what they were about, he just knew that every night he dreaded closing eyes and going to sleep. Whatever these nightmares were about they sure as hell scared him. Jumping out of bed he rubbed his mustache as he looked at himself in the full length mirror that made up the doors to his walk-in wardrobe. These nightmares were troubling but he had other things on his mind. Leaving the room he made himself breakfast and teleported to the local store to buy a newspaper. Teleporting back just as his toast popped out of the toaster he started spreading butter as he read the paper. The main story was about a terrorist attack on LA Center for non-metas. Fletcher dropped the toast, he had to report this! Teleporting into his room he threw open his wardrobe and got dressed as fast as he could. Grabbing his jacket and reporting things he teleported to LA into an alleyway. Smiling he tapped his head, he had forgotten his hat. Teleporting back to his home in Washington he grabbed his hat of his coat rack and then returned to LA. "Much better" He said to himself. Stepping out of the alleyway he began to do his thing, gathering information from the locals he began snooping around the scene and more importantly the police. The "Terrorists" were part of the group called the Underground movement. He had heard that name before, but only as a rumor. From what he had gathered they were a group of meta's who had no problems using violence to get their point across. The thought made his blood boil, he was a meta and to have this group essentially representing him and painting all meta's in such a bad light was infuriating. Looking at the sky he saw it was getting dark, snapping his notebook shut he would write up the story later. He wanted to look one more time around the city. However it didn't take long for LA's night to start with a bang. He heard the scream of a woman coming from the right of him, teleporting back to Washington he telported into his costume and telported straight back to LA around the area of the scream. He found the source quickly blood bodies and a man splattered in blood emerging from the building. "Jesus Christ!" Fletcher had seen his fair share of blood and bodies in England but this was ridiculous. Then the fighting began a Meta wearing armour and some other reformist leader appeared. Both attacking the other people who followed the trench coat man out of the building. "what are you doing don't you realize that you're just painting us Meta's in a bad light. Are you just stupid?! How does that." He pointed at the open doors. "Prove anything except that none of us are capable of reasonable thinking?!" He saw the reformist offer the man in armour a box. He accepted the box of sweets and nodded. "I will get the civilian to safety, then return to cover you. Should you have any need of direct assistance, do call for me, and I will come as quickly as I am able." Holding the box under his arm and probably crushing most of the goodies within, the Paladin took off running towards the woman - more of a girl, really, getting closer to her. "Apologies, my lady, but the hour is much too desperate for chivalry!" he shouted out as he grabbed at her and kept running, already forming a thick bubble of hard light to protect his passenger from harm. "Hey Holy Knight? I'm a Teleporter need a hand getting these people out of harms way? Or you Reformist man? You need a hand either or should I consider you an enemy?!" Fletcher may be a hero but he wasn't going to make a move until they said something. This reformist fella could hurt someone if he wasn't careful then he would be an enemy. A simple 20'000 foot drop would finish him. This Paladin guy though he defiantly seemed a good guy.</s>
<\|description\|>Lucas Abd-al-Yasu (Lucas, Servant of Jesus, the Anti-Eli) Alias(s): Retribution Age: 26. Affiliations: Heroes Factions: Reformists Description: A brown-skinned man with perfectly combed, short black hair and green eyes, Lucas is a tall, atheletic, handsome man with a lean, scuplted physique who prefers to wear a flak jacket over a shirt and tan jeans, completed by a brown longcoat. For footwear, he chooses sturdy desert boots. Powers: Lucas can produce and control water and to a limited extent, ice. He can create whips, high-pressure water jets, ice ramps, bolts of ice, and, well, basically anything that requires water and ice to make. His weakness is that he is severely vulnerable to electricity when using water and, when using ice, fire. He also cannot control water already inside a living being, so no plantbending or bloodbending (unless the blood is outside the body). Flaws that aren't directly connected to his power, yet affect it, are Lucas' runaway idealism, which, when combined with impatience, leads him to regard struggle and effort as unecessary, which in turn leads him to break down when things don't go his way. Skills: History, Literature, Strategy and Tactics, Unarmed Combat, Firearms, Swordsmanship and Knives. Equipment: Several types of Gun, Ammo, a Scimtar and a Kalis, as well as Grenades, a First Aid Kit, and Pills that help Concentration. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kalis Ranking: A (Optional) Brief History: Born in Jordan as the son of a Chirstian Arab Lieutenant Colonel (Muqaddam) and a Filipino Domestic Worker, Lucas was a an immensely intelligent and skilled youth with Dual Citizenship, which allowed him entrance into Jordan's circles of privilege, while at the same time keeping him grounded by interaction with his poorer Filipino relatives. A good fighter and already a soldier in Jordan's Armed Forces, Lucas was (edit: 18) at the time of the Maybark Incident, when Metahumans came to the Public's Attention. Originally hiding his powers from people, he chose to go public when ISIS began overruning Syria and Iraq, which in turn was the same time Metas began being more accepted. In 2015, Lucas (Edit: and several other Metas were) sent by the UN to relieve the city of Ramadi, then under siege by IS forces. He suceeded, and thereafter underwent further missions in Mosul, Tayl Abd, and Raqqa itself, where he killed the 'Caliph' of IS, Abu Bakr Al-Baghdadi. After that, well, he's been wandering around, putting out brushfires all around the world.</s> <\|message\|>Fletcher Parkmen Fletcher was concerned about these new people popping up left and right, what he had to deal with were these bomb strapped fellas. They seemed intent on running into the crowd, possibly to cause mass casualties by blowing themselves up. Fletcher acted in an instant teleporting to the dead eyed person who was the closest to the crowd, giving the man no time to react he teleported him away from the crowd on top of a building out of the way. Fletcher was no bomb genius and did not want to give him a moment to detonate the bomb. Teleporting it of his chest and off into a desolate desert. Putting the person into a choke hold he hand cuffed him. Reappearing with the hand cuffed man he proceed to engage the next bomb-man the exact same way. As teleporting back with the two hand cuffed he left them in the hands of e policemen and reappeared back at the building. The whole scene seemed to be wrapping itself up with another meta getting involved to help clear away and take down the assailants. The Knight man was just standing their with the girl in his arms. Walking up to him he patted him on the shoulder. "Hey buddy, looks like it's all wrapping up here it's safe to put her down now." There was no reply. "Mate? You there?"</s> <\|message\|>Aiko Fujiwara Aiko Fujiwara Aiko Fujiwara was training at the Reformist Council in LA. She was not sure why they wanted something as powerful as her her at the reformists. Aiko was happy on the island with her aunt and uncle it was a small fishing island where there were more cats than people. She at least had a good relationship with her aunt and uncle was unsure why this old woman took her to Los Anglese. The island allowed her the ability not to be inudated by mental images hitting her from all directions. Aiko haed the instructor whomever it was he was a jerk. She was going to call and ask to be sent to island. At least the island was calm and uninteresting. She would not be able to see into others minds and alter them when she was on the island. Why was she here was the only thought she had and her reply to it was. She did not know and she just wanted to go home.</s>	<\|message\|>Lucas Abd-al-Yasu (Lucas, Servant of Jesus, the Anti-Eli) Lucas Abd-al-Yasu walked towards Aiko's room; he wasn't the instructor, but he had some questions to ask her, questions about the past and future. For, you see, Lucas, normally an idealistic soul, had broken down, and the reason for said breakdown was that things did not go his way. Why had things not gone his way? Well, basically, he got passed up for promotion to an adminsitrative position, even though he was so much better, or at least, his vision for what the world should be was. Don't be like that, he chastised himself. That way lies hubris. It's my emotional comfort in an uncomfortable world, his own insecurities replied, without my ideals, I am nothing. Those were his thoughts as he knocked on Aiko's door. "Yes?" asked the accented English of Aiko from behind the door. "It's not your instructor, but I did come here to ask you something," Lucas then remembered to introduce himself. "My name is Lucas Abd-al-Yasu, and I need someone with your powers." "What is it?" asked Aiko cautiously. "Because I doubt my head's policies, and I need the help of someone who can see possible futures to see if those doubts have any meat to them," Lucas was now opening himself up. "Because I have this flaw, that I'm rigid and inflexible, while I think Auntie Sable's policies are just too...cynical and..." he looked around him, "weak. Basically, what I'm saying is: I want to know, am I being a baby, or should I oppose my head's polciies?" "Doing that is difficult it requires energy and a lot of effort. Also I cannot control where it goes. It could be a possiblity and not the real future. So you could be preparing for something that never comes." Aiko replied through the door. "Then show me a future where I lose," said Lucas. "Show me a future where I lose, so that I never have the pride to air such views again." Aiko came out of her room. "Alright I will look but don't do nothing ...creepy." Aiko told Lucas. "I won't," Lucas promised, "sorry if I gave that impression." "You want to know the future, the bad future, so yes I think you are creepy. I mean are you really that desperate to humble yourself? Just use your own imagination." Aiko told Lucas. "Well, this is fruitless," said Lucas. "Yes it is because I already saw a bad future. A future where the reformists loose and the government rounds up the metas. They have killed all of them. You were shot in the bathroom at an Applebees while hiding. So it is a version of Days of Futures Past." "I don't believe that," said Lucas, "I believe, for some reasom, that the Underground Movement will win. Sorry to be my own variety of Debbie Downer, but in my travels around the world, putting our brushfires, I've long since given up hope that my ideals, of Meta and Human coexistence, can ever be put in place. Humans and Metas have so much to gain by cooperating, but the desire to control is Sapient Nature, and I myself have it. Should I join the battle brewing at the Human Centre, I'll lose, and there will be nothing." A flash of anger appeared in Lucas' eyes, and he spoke: "Why am I so inadequate? Why am I such a loser? I killed the 'Caliph' of IS, but when I think of fighting that 'Edge' guy, a chilling certainty tells me that (Edit: he's too strong for me.)" "But, at the same time, I cannot kill myself, I cannot die, I want to continue on, I want to win. It's just that, I can't win, the future is already set; Edge will win, and we are all doomed." "You think the outcome of a winning over Edge will result in an age of peace? Peace does not exsist without work. But killing Edge will just have another enemy replace him. You think I think this world is easy? Terrorsim I could stop? Possible horrible leaders. See my problem is I can't tell the difference between the true future and a possiblity. No amount of training will make the true future visible to me. The reason is I cannot see the true future until it becomes the present. I have stopped trying to see the future at least intetionally." Aiko sighed. "All I want is to go home and to be with my Aunt and Uncle. I's like to help but I can't tell what will be a win for you. Last time I listened to my insticts I ended up leaving the island and coming to LA. But I could try." Aiko rubbed her eyes. "Please, do," said Lucas.</s>
<\|description\|>Teresa Wilderflame Race: Demi-fire elemental Age:16 Appeareance: Personality: Teresa is a hot-headed and ambitious girl. She doesn't take defeat lightly. At first glance, she's rude and bossy, but she easily softens to most people, as most girls do. Ready to take on anything, she is a strong and independent girl full of love towards those who give her a chance.</s> <\|message\|>Teresa Wilderflame Teresa was so close, just a few more feet and she'd be safe. She stopped, took her prize and fate into both hands, and threw it. Just a few seconds until time was up, and everyone around her watched the object soar. 3, 2, 1, score! She won! The game was over, and her team won by 2 points! The girls lifted her up, and then the referee screamed. He was trying to pick up the basketball, but as soon as he touched it, the rubber melted onto his hand and he was burned badly. Teresa and the others were shocked. How did the ball heat up? Teresa had just touched it a few seconds ago. A hand ripped her from the scene, and she found herself being dragged outside by a slightly older looking guy. Who was he, and what did he want?</s> <\|message\|>Drake Fireborn Drake squirmed as he watched the games below from his perch on the top row of what he had read were called bleachers. Apparently, humans were supposed to be punished for watching these things. Why else would they consider planks of hard wood fastened together by steel bars a suitable seating arrangement for an event that took hours to complete? He scanned the people in shiny uniforms below him as the threw an orange ball back and forth, occasionally throwing it into a basket that hung above their heads. Unfortunately, the baskets each had holes in the bottom, so they were forced to continue thrown the ball into container that wouldn't catch it. How pointless... The human realm was confusing. Thankfully, it seemed that the time he had to spend here would be minimal. His eyes came to rest on one of the females in the game, a girl about his age with fiery orange hair and a brazen demeanor that could only mean one thing. Yep, he thought. She's a Fireborn. The girl ran up to the basket, shoving the orange ball into the air with what appeared to be all of her strength. It sailed above the others, who tried in vain to keep it from falling into what he dubbed the Basket of Uselessness. The ball entered the poorly-woven container, which as he suspected did not hold it even for a second. Then a long shrill whistle blew out, and people around him began to stand, putting their hands together over and over in some sort of strange human signal of approval. The applause did not last long. The man with the whistle began screaming, dropping the orange ball to his feet as it melted. They use rubber for those things! He blinked indignantly. And they let her play? Don't they know that rubber isn't fireproof! He turned back to the court, scanning it for any sight of the girl he had come for, but she seemed to have disappeared...</s>	<\|message\|>Teresa Wilderflame He slammed her against the wall. His hands were on the wall above her shoulders. His mask and hood covered everything but the eyes. They looked icy blue and seemed to have an icy sheen. "You are in danger. Get out of here and hide. Do not trust anyone. Do you hear me? If I find out I laid my life on the line to warn you and you end up getting caught anyway, I will be extremely displeased with you. You don't want me displeased. Now go! Don't trust anyone!" An icy wind blew, and a small tornado of snow swirled around the stranger. It all vanished in a few seconds, taking the guy with it. Panting for air, Teresa came into the sunlight and away from the wall, now covered in burns and ice where she was pushed against and where his hands were. What just happened? Danger? The people from the game were coming out, carrying the referee onto an ambulance. When did the ambulance get here? She must have been so shocked about being kidnapped that she didn't hear the sirens. Now they were blazing alarms everywhere. People started to come toward her, calling her and asking if she was okay. Teresa didn't know what to do, so she just ran, leaving the gravel sizzling.</s>
<\|description\|>Grace Whyte Alias: Hasn't decided yet Age: 15 Power/ Limitations: Water Manipulation -Can shape and manipulate water -Density manipulation/ water solidification -Is unable to create water, is limited to using existing sources. -Distance and the amount of matter depends on user's strength -Controlling and manipulating greater bodies is exhausting. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte The sun began streaming in through the window, the light hitting Grace in the face and causing it to scrunch up before she opened her eyes reluctantly and rolled over, lying on her back and placing her hands behind her head as she stared at the ceiling. Today was her first day of high school. It was still taking a little while for that fact to sink in, it seemed like just yesterday her and her mother were moving in even though it was more like ten or so years ago now, right before she'd started primary school. Truth be told she hadn't thought about it much until now. Glancing over at her clock Grace sighed, realising she had a lot of time to fill before school was even close to starting now. Sliding out of bed she walked over to the large fish tank in her room, kneeling down and watching the small collection of guppies swimming around. "Morning guys." She said, still staring at them. After a few moments, however she sighed and stood up. "Still not talking to me hu?" Grace had always been slightly hopeful that, along with her water powers, she would have developed the ability to talk to marine creatures. To this day she'd had no such luck. Walking into the bathroom she also checked her neck for gills, another hopeful wish of hers. Though she was aware by now she'd probably developed all the powers she was going to she still liked to hope. She took a fairly long shower, seeing as she had a lot of time to spare and then went back to her room. She quickly closed her blinds and got dressed before heading downstairs. The house was quiet and still; meaning her mother still hadn't gotten back from her most recent crime fighting endeavours or she had gotten back rather late and was just asleep upstairs sleeping. Grace set about making herself some breakfast and sat down in the living room, turning on the TV and flipping to a channel that had cartoons. She did pause briefly on a news channel where her mother was fighting off some crazy bug lady. Obviously the result of last night's call out. However it was quickly over and she flicked over to cartoons. It wasn't that Grace was an overly childish person, she just enjoyed watching cartoons, mostly anime, which was often directed at an older audience anyway. They often had better plot than anything else that was on anyway.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker A void surrounded him, emptiness, nothingness, then something. A bright flash, the laughter of children, a lover's whisper. The elements sang, sang hymns of nature and solace, of war and chaos. Water and fire danced with one another, swirling in the emptiness, blissful. The elements were speaking to him, but he could not understand them, their words were blurred by the inferno suddenly engulfing him and then- "Master Parker," the unnaturally deep voice suddenly forcing him back to reality, broke the trance he was in, but the void remained, blackness enveloped his world once more. "Master Parker, it is time to wake and begin preparations for the day ahead." Kyle had already been awake for quite some time already, he had actually taken upon the opportunity to meditate and reflect upon the universe a skill he was taught early on by his father. Though Kyle knew how to project himself, his father knew that and more, even telling tales of delving into the far reaches of the astral plane, where only the pantheons would know what damnable beasts lurked in that darkness. That, however...was a story for another time. "Can I not be allowed five minutes more of silence to explore my mind further?" Kyle asked calmly. "Your father has expressed...great interest in your activity today, he would be most displeased to learn that you did not attend for...unjustifiable reasons." One of his father's creations, a soul bound to an autonomous being, a rather large thing, but with the patience and class of a professional 'care taker'. Supposedly it was made to look completely real, though the one time Kyle had looked upon his caretaker he was overcome with an insatiable rage and woke up hours later in his bed. Truthfully, he couldn't really make an opinion of it even if he wanted to. That being said, the automaton was completely right, though the activity mentioned was really just day one of a four year trip through high school; he wasn't looking forward to it. "I suppose you are right," he sighed, unfolding his legs and lifting himself up from the cushion he had chosen for his session. He moved forward, each step carefully memorized, he easily navigated his way over to what he knew was his mirror. He stared into what he knew was his reflection and it stared back, both completely unknowing as to what the other looked like. His eyes were closed, forced shut really, though it felt completely natural to Kyle at this point it was a side effect of the seal placed upon him. The seal was there to keep the curse at bay... "how many years has it been?" The thought echoed ".... Since birth, that's right," he'd nearly forgotten. The curse was something he was born with, it made it so that anything he looked upon would send him into a blinding rage, his powers improved drastically, but the destruction was...absolute. The seal was there to prevent him from destroying anything and everything, and so he stared into nothingness, emptiness, the void. He breathed in deeply, he had always dreamed that he would be able to open his eyes and see something without the rage overcoming him. Slowly as the years passed by, he realized that such a dream may never come true, it was something he had accepted, though hope flickered from time to time. Ah well... c'est la vie. He turned his head towards the automaton, "Prepare some breakfast and set out some clean clothes, I'm going to take a shower." "As you wish, Master Parker," the large creature stepped back into the hall closing the door behind him. Kyle turned his head back towards the mirror, he stared into the void, and it stared back.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Stretching out with a yawn and a small sigh Grace stood, taking her bowl over to the sink in the kitchen and rinsing it out before placing it in the dishwasher. Looking out the kitchen window she thought for a moment she saw some movement in the house next door, but by the time she looked it was already gone. It was always so dark over there, the curtains always drawn. Compared to her own house, which was always open, bright, warm and airy it seemed a sad way of life even though she had been taught never to judge someone without knowing their story. She didn't even know who or what kind of people lived there. Going around the house Grace made sure that everything was closed up and locked before she gathered her bag and her house keys, locking the front door behind her she began making her way down the street to the bus stop. It had rained last night, so everything was glistening with water and puddles covered the ground. She reached out, letting her hands brush against the plants as she passed, small water droplets transferring onto her hand or falling onto the ground. She always loved the smell of everything after it had rained. It smelt fresher, cleaner. Gray clouds still hung overhead, meaning they may even get more rain later. The girl felt, needless to say, most at home when she was surrounded by water. Smiling to herself she jumped up onto a small brick wall that was the fence to someone's yard and began walking along it with her arms outstretched to the sides. It was only a short walk to the bus stop, but she always tried to enjoy it as much as possible. If the school had been closer she would have been happy to walk or even ride a bike. The bus itself was not the most pleasant of places. Kids there were always so crude. She herself had been called immature plenty of times, but at least she still acted intelligent, she just enjoyed childish things. Whereas most people her age acted like idiots most of the time and she highly doubted it was out of choice, believe they truly didn't know any better. Up ahead there was a large puddle and Grace smiled, running a short ways before jumping off the low brick wall and into the puddle, splashing water in all directions and giggling happily to herself. There was just something about jumping in puddles that made her laugh.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He turned the water knob, the hot one only, and steaming water came running out, as the tub filled he removed his clothing and when it filled he tested the waters. A small smile made its way upon his lips, the temperature would have been way too hot for anyone else to handle, but to Kyle this was just right...though it could probably use a little more heat. He stepped into the water, and lowered himself in, calling upon his mana he breathed in deeply and exhaled, allowing his body temperature to heat up the water from scalding hot to boiling, literally. Easing himself in, he sighed, his muscles greatly enjoyed the intense heat and his lungs filled up with the steaming air. To him, this was Nirvana, and he would take as much time as he could to enjoy it. Time passed and after feeling satisfied, he stepped out from the water, drained the tub and toweled off. He made his way back to his room and towards his bed... his clothes were there, perfect. Dressing himself, he wandered near the window and pulled back the curtain ever so slightly and stared in the direction of the house next to his. He didn't know what it looked like, but every so often he'd... sense, the vibrancy of the house, a latent talent to having a mana source, a form of innate six sense. He couldn't identify what an object was or who a person was, but he could sense the presence of the being, the movements being made and the emotions being felt. There was always something about that house that felt...different, like it was lighter in comparison to his own, maybe it was the presences he felt inside, but there was usually a sense of joy coming from that house. Speaking of which, a presence made itself known, he couldn't tell what it was doing exactly, though it was something with their hands based on the movement. A glimmer, the presence shifted where it was looking and Kyle receded back from the window, he didn't want to provoke unwanted attention, especially with the kind of person his father was. A smell wafted its way into his room, finishing dressing he made his way downstairs to eat his breakfast, then afterwards his caretaker would drive him to school.</s>	<\|message\|>Grace Whyte Standing on the street corner Grace waited for the bus, her hands clasped behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels, humming to herself. An odd bubbly feeling in her stomach made itself known. Nerves. Butterflies beating themselves against the walls of her gut. Of course she was nervous. During primary and middle school she had been attending with normal humans. All her friends had been there, since most other like her had been… well like her and kept their abilities hidden from others. Now she was entering this new school with people she didn't know all with super powers like her. What if she didn't match up? What if they laughed at her? What if no one liked her? Reaching into her bag she took out her water bottle and took a long drink, the water usually helping to calm her nerves. She noticed the bus approaching and raised her hand to signal for it to stop and quickly climbed aboard. Looking down the aisle she quickly selected a seat with no one currently occupying it and made a beeline for it, sitting down and keeping her vision straight. If she didn't look at anyone then she couldn't offend. If she didn't offend no one would be tempted to beat the snot out of her. The reasonable and rational side of her tried to assure her that no one was going to beat her up because she looked at them funny. But the side of her that watched too many teenage movies told her to fear everyone and everything. The ride was only short, luckily, and no one decided to sit next to her. Grace was certain she looked as scared as she felt. It was strange too because she wasn't usually one to be so nervous. Once the bus arrived at the school she sat patiently, waiting for everyone else to get off before she did so as to avoid getting in anyone's way. Picking up her bag he quickly disembarked and stopped for a moment, looking up at the building. It looked just like any other school really. As she stood there she felt a small drop of water, then another and another before the heavens opened up and started raining down upon them. It was a light shower really, but it made her smile and giggle as if the water washed away all the worries she'd had.</s>
<\|description\|>Grace Whyte Alias: Hasn't decided yet Age: 15 Power/ Limitations: Water Manipulation -Can shape and manipulate water -Density manipulation/ water solidification -Is unable to create water, is limited to using existing sources. -Distance and the amount of matter depends on user's strength -Controlling and manipulating greater bodies is exhausting. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker Running his finger over the indentations in his watch, Kyle determined a little bit of time had passed since they first arrived in the gym. Personally, it didn't entirely matter how long it took, time was something he could work with and patience had become one of his best virtues. Suddenly voices lowered as the loud tapping of heels to wood echoed through the gym. Perfect timing, he closed his watch and listened intently as the heels came to a stop. "Good morning students, my name is Principal Nightingale, I know, it's a bit of a mouthful." A bit of a mouthful? Just how low were they setting their standards here? "That aside, some of you are no doubt wondering what you're doing here." He put a finger to his chin and thought over her words carefully, she sounded powerful, confident, informative, everything that a good principal would need, even in a school of supers. As she continued on, she explained to the students about what they were doing here, what the school was trying to accomplish, and of course, what their 'special class assignments' were. So they were grouping students into categories, well he was the literal definition of an elemental, so he'd most likely be grouped there, he wondered... "Kyle Parker, elementals." Speak of the devil... He made his way over to the group of students classified as elementals, most of them were conversing among other, either with close friends who were grouped with them or new students introducing themselves to others. Kyle of course, remained away from the group, closer to his silence, he wasn't exactly here to make friends. "Grace Whyte, elementals." He thought as much, her earlier display would make her an avid candidate in the elemental category. He sensed as her aura approached, well...he could only assume, but the vibrancy of it was soft, not nearly as timid or nervous as it was earlier. He sensed movement from her, just from one spot on her body, back and forth, was she waving. Looking in her direction he smiled a little to acknowledge her, "Nice to see you again, especially after such a long time," he grinned a little, a bit of teasing never hurt anyone and it might actually help her relax a little if she was still nervous.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte When Kyle looked over to her and waved back Grace blushed slightly at his words. "I'm sorry for running off on you earlier. I was… surprised a little I guess. I hadn't expected you to know I was there…" Maybe that was why she'd done it in the beginning, it had been a nice thing to do and she hadn't thought anything would have come from it. So when she had been forced to interact with someone it had caught her off guard. But now that she had a better idea of what to expect he wasn't nearly as intimidating especially since now she was fairly sure he couldn't read her mind. Once again her mind wondered to what exactly his powers may be, that allowed him to see her without sight like she had. Asking would have been easier, but it seemed a rude question to ask someone. Perhaps he had earth powers, or air could possibly work, either could be used to an extent to assist in sight. She supposed she would find out eventually regardless. The girl moved to say something else when the man whom they had been assigned to spoke up. He was a large man, tall and muscular. Grace thought he looked a little intimidating, but then again she felt that way about most people. In a way she was very much like water, preferring to move around obstacles instead of taking on things head on. "Alright Elementals. First off if anyone believes their placement was incorrect you should go and take it up with Nightingale now." His voice was loud, maybe a little too much so. And deep. It almost boomed really. Looking around Grace noticed no one seemed to have any arguments. Then again she didn't think this was a particularly hard group to place. "Very good. I am Mr Steele, I'll be your group advisor, so if anyone ever has any questions or concerns regarding powers I will do my best to help you. I'll also be your teacher for Power Theory and Practical. Practical will take place in the gym, Theory will be in room seventeen. Make sure to write it down on your schedules. Do we have any questions?" He looked out over the group and Grace lowered her eyes for a moment, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to herself.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker She seemed much more relaxed now than his first interaction with her not even twenty minutes ago, to Kyle, this was good; however. His brow crinkled slightly at her response, so he had startled her, he actually felt kind of bad for that. For what reason though? The whole thing was so inconsequential, and yet here he was feeling guilt for causing such a minor thing to escalate...well not escalate that might be taking it somewhat dramatically; regardless. "I apologize, I didn't mean to startle you with that. Knowing a person is there when I can't see them is just something that comes so naturally that I sometimes forget about it," he pondered this a bit, his finger rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "I suppose that's not really good, forgetting things like that," he smiled a bit weakly at that, but returned back to more a normal expression. She moved to speak once more until the rather large aura began to speak. His voice was loud and thunderous, actually it was a bit deafening, Kyle found himself digging in his ears afterwards to check his hearing. He told them what their classes were going to be, where, etc. all part of the orientation. When he asked for questions, Kyle remained silent as other students asked their general questions. He pretty much had an idea of what was to go down, but in all honesty, he just didn't care to ask any questions he never felt he needed to, everything else he'd find out eventually. Looking over to Grace, her aura had changed again, back to a nervous frequency. He sighed internally, this girl, how she could be so skittish knowing where she was going... No he couldn't judge her based on that, not everyone was like he was, cool, in control... Maybe it was time to return the favor, keeping his senses open and alert he used his cane to gently tap her foot. When he got her attention he gave her a reassuring smile, as if to say, "don't be nervous."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Feeling something tap on her foot Grace looked up to see Kyle smiling at her and she smiled gently in return. She knew she was too timid, people had often told her but she couldn't help it. She had always viewed attention as bad; because of the fear her powers may be discovered. However things were different here and she needed to remember that. There were probably other fears she could have in this new environment however she thought that the less thought she gave to them the less they'd bother her. Mr Steele suddenly spoke up again, catching her by surprise. "Alright then, you've got about ten minuted before your next class is supposed to start. Stay in the gym, but have some free time." "Can't help it." She whispered back, feeling safe in speaking now that they'd been dismissed. "I mean… what if I don't hold up against the others?" What if she was labelled the weak link? Smiling despite herself she shrugged slightly. I didn't really get to practice my powers a lot when I was younger… I guess I'm not that confident in myself." She shrugged slightly, thinking maybe she had said too much. Grace was aware that she sometimes spoke too much but smiled despite herself. "Sorry," She shrugged slightly. As before she found herself curious as to how his powers worked, how he saw and things like that but was much too polite to ask. So she instead chose to ask something else since she really didn't know much about him. "So do you have any siblings?" She paused for a moment but decided not to ask about his parents, since it could sometimes be a sensitive subject for people, especially people like them. "I don't have any myself, but I kind of always wanted one. It wouldn't have been as quiet growing up."</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He could feel her smile, but her aura remained almost entirely unchanged; what a timid girl. It wasn't too long after that Mr. Steele fired off again and Grace began to speak to him once more. "Can't help it." She whispered back, "I mean… what if I don't hold up against the others?" Oh man, her confidence was staggeringly low, "I didn't really get to practice my powers a lot when I was younger… I guess I'm not that confident in myself. Sorry"She paused for a bit before asking another question, "So do you have any siblings? I don't have any myself, but I kind of always wanted one. It wouldn't have been as quiet growing up." "No I...don't have siblings." His brow crinkled, something was eating him, she was changing the subject because she wasn't confident in herself. Damn it, he felt bad for her again, this girl was doing things to him, messing with his head, but that couldn't be the case, because no one could actually be that...that...shit... "Grace," he began, this was going to be a long one, "speaking honestly, I don't think you need to worry too much, I can guarantee you that most of the students here probably haven't had a lot chances to use their powers either, probably for safety reasons. You'll have your shining star or two, but from what I can gather already your water powers already seem to be at a good level. The thing you did earlier today, shielding me from the rain, it may not seem like much, but it was a lot of fast moving droplets of water, constantly showering an area, yet you were moving them out and down away from me consistently without faltering. Even as I approached you remained in the same state, not once did you try to catch your breath. Just based on that initial observation, and for what its worth" he leaned against the gym bleachers, nicely folded up for the school day activities, "I think you're going to outclass a lot of these chumps."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked to Kyle in surprise as he changed the topic on her again. However his words made her smile and a blush spread over her cheeks and she glanced down slightly in modesty, glad he couldn't see the red in her cheeks. "It… it was nothing really. I've done things like that tones of times before. I…" She took a small breath and looked up at his face still smiling gently and nodded slightly. "Thank you." No one had ever really said something like that to her about her powers. Then again there hadn't been much chance to now she thought about it. Maybe he was right. Maybe she needed to stop worrying so much. "But now you've got me a little curious. It was something I've been wondering for a little bit now, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to. But I was kind of wondering… what your powers were? And how you can see without really using your eyes like a lot of us have to." The girl dared to ask. She wouldn't hold it against him if he didn't want to tell her, but he just seemed so confident, despite everything. It gave her hope in a way; if he could be so sure of her then maybe she'd be able to be surer of herself too. She had never really thought her powers were anything special, but that was comparing herself to her mother and other supers… maybe her problem had just been that she'd been setting unrealistic goals and expectations of herself. Either way she decided there that she liked this guy, and could see being around him very beneficial for her. Hopefully he didn't mind if she hung around him.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker A wave of emotions flooded her aura, but the one thing he was really looking for, was for her to relax and that mad him smile; even more so when he could feel the heat from her cheeks. She tried to be modest about it at first, but eventually thanked him. He couldn't help but smile a little, for some reason, her smiling made him smile, it was...a good feeling, not one he felt often. It seemed like whatever he said boosted her confidence a little and made her relaxed enough to start asking about him and his powers. "Ah, I was wondering when that was going to be brought up," he raised his head up," ahhhh now where to begin... ok, so you know that most supers get their powers through genetics, via some form of mutation in them right? I'm something a little different, a little more wild so speak, but that might just be me being dramatic. My powers are the direct result of being a descendant of a fire elemental, in other words, I can control that element, produce it and extinguish it at will. As for my sight, because of my inherently magical nature, I have access to what's known as a 'mana source' and a power called 'mana'. Mana is a source of energy for all life, it flows and ebbs through everything, but is completely invisible to the naked eye, because of my source, I can sense that mana. While you might see me for what I am, whatever that may be, the way I see you is as this constantly flowing and waving source of colors. I can sense exactly where you are, what actions you're doing and," he smirked at this, "honestly your fiery red cheeks."</s>	<\|message\|>Grace Whyte "Oh…" Grace said, some of it making sense to her, some of it losing her a little. The whole mana thing was not a concept she was familiar with, he did a fairly good job explaining it. "I got my powers from my mum." She piped up quickly. "Elementals run in our family too, though she's more earth, so we're still not sure why I ended up with water… we figured it has something to do with natures, that certain elements just work better for certain natures." However when he mentioned that he could see her blushing Grace gasped slightly, dropping her gaze back to the ground and feeling her cheeks burning even fiercer. The girl was quiet for a few moments when someone else spoke up. "Aww look, isn't that cute? She's got a crush on the blind boy!" Gasping again Grace looked up and to the source of the voice. A girl who was a fair bit taller than her with dark brown hair and green eyes. "Look how red she is." "I… don't" Grace replied softly, her voice barely auditable. "What was that? You need to speak up, I didn't hear you?" "I said I don't…" She said, only a fraction louder, still not enough to be heard very well. Tears were now starting to well up in her eyes on top of it all and she took a few nervous steps away as the other girl advanced on her. She shook her head slightly. "Sorry sweetie still can't hear you." It wasn't entirely clear if her intent was malicious or not, she hadn't said anything outright mean, though she had invited herself into a private conversation. Either way it was making Grace uncomfortable and she began to look around for the quickest exit.</s>
<\|description\|>Grace Whyte Alias: Hasn't decided yet Age: 15 Power/ Limitations: Water Manipulation -Can shape and manipulate water -Density manipulation/ water solidification -Is unable to create water, is limited to using existing sources. -Distance and the amount of matter depends on user's strength -Controlling and manipulating greater bodies is exhausting. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker All of Kyle's morning classes followed the same pattern of introductions, the syllabus, and the rest of the period spent in free time. Philosophy was his only saving grace as they at least began asking some questions. Most of them were things he had already thought of during time with his father, but at least his classmates were thinking. That being said, Kyle's mind wandered towards other things; Grace, what an enigma. In just the short amount of time he had known her, she already had a profound effect on him, he enjoyed her company, respected her opinion and knew that deep down, there was power yet untapped. He had to wonder though if maybe, just maybe, if she were a true elemental descendant, that she too possessed a mana source and could tap into it. When lunch came, he'd have to bring it up with her, see what her thoughts were. The lunch bell finally rang and Kyle made his way to the cafeteria, keeping along with the flow of people also filing their way towards the same destination. He found it somewhat difficult to concentrate while moving in the crowd, but he was able to track Grace down in the crowd. She was just a little further ahead of him, but he was able to navigate through people before coming up behind her and tapping her shoulder. "I don't suppose you like tea, do you?" He asked inquisitively.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace was in line for food at the cafeteria when she felt someone tap on her shoulder and she turned quickly, looking surprised before she realised who it was and smiled gently. "Tea the meal or tea the beverage made of hot water and dried leaves?" She replied with a small laugh. "I like both. A very calming drink; tea." She contemplated for a moment. Honestly it wasn't a drink she had a lot, since she rarely drank anything else besides water for a number of reasons. It had a load of health benefits, was exceptionally calming for her, and having a drink bottle full of water was always comforting since she couldn't conjure water out of the air, but was limited to manipulating existing sources. That being said tea was still a nice drink. "Why is that?" Grace eventually asked. She doubted someone would have brought tea to school would they have? It didn't seem like a thing that was practical to bring to school. The line moved up slightly and Grace took a few steps with them. She wasn't overly keen on the whole school lunches thing, but she had forgotten to pack her own this morning so she was stuck with whatever the school was providing. It didn't look as bad as she'd heard they were supposed to be though.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker Grace's aura spiked for only a moment before the realization of who he was came to her and her body language relaxed; he simply smiled at her. Her answer had caught him off guard as his brain came to a halt, the gears eventually worked themselves out and he laughed along with her. Laughing, it wasn't something he experienced to often, but with Grace it came almost naturally, he wondered if her personality was having just as much of an effect on him as his was on her's. Eventually she ended up asking him, "why is that?" "Well, I happened to bring along an extra bag with me today and I thought you'd might like some," truthfully he was going to drink the second bag later in the afternoon, not that he was going to mention that bit to her. Just from his few encounters with her, she seemed like the type to enjoy calming things like tea. Admittedly there was an ulterior motive than just offering tea out of good will, he figured it would help her relax that much more, maybe get her to open up more and hear more of her tale. "I just need a container to heat it up in," sensing the area he found a stack of Styrofoam cups, "perfect, I'll go save a couple of seats." Making his way around her and out of line he snagged a couple of cups, just for good measure. He sensed around the entire cafeteria, pinpointing an area that would be out of the way and din the noise a little. Cafeterias were good for meeting up with people you wanted to meet up with, but for a new coming loner like Kyle and the timid personality Grace had, he figured secluded would be better. Eventually finding a more out of the way spot he made his way there and secured it, propping his bag in the place where Grace would sit. Satisfied, he pulled out the tea bags from his pack, including a ceramic mug he had brought from home and sat down in the empty space across his backpack, awaiting Grace's arrival.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Smiling happily Grace shook her head slightly, despite herself. "Thank you, but I'm fine really…" She trailed off as he began looking around for containers and moved off, saying he was going to go save her a seat. Tilting her head slightly the girl wondered to herself. He was certainly a strange one, Kyle. Maybe that was why she liked him. He didn't seem like the others around here. The entire time she'd seen him he hadn't seemed all that interested in anyone else. He hadn't gone out of his way to speak to anyone else that she'd seen. As the line moved Grace eventually collected her lunch and made her way over to where the boy was sitting over in a corner away from the busyness of the cafeteria and walked over to him. He had his bag placed on the seat opposite him and she paused for a moment. She assumed it was a seat for her, but at the same didn't want to go touching his things without permission. "You know… if you wanted me to sit with you… you just had to ask." She said softly as a thought occurred to her and she looked at him curiously. "Kyle… do you mind if I ask you a question?" Grace on, still standing there unsure exactly to in the situation. "I mean you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. I was just wondering… how you grew up I suppose?" She said, trying to figure out how to word it properly. "I mean… did you go to school like normal kids or were you home schooled? Did you have any friends?"</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker It didn't take Grace too long afterwards for her to meet up with Kyle, he waited patiently for her to sit, but after noticing how her aura was reacting, he raised an eyebrow. "You know... if you wanted me to sit with you... you just had to ask." Suddenly it felt like a pit opened up in his gut and he suddenly felt like an ass, completely assuming that Grace was just going to come over and sit with him. But... "I apologize," he started, "I guess I just thought after our talk before class that we would..." "Kyle… do you mind if I ask you a question?" Grace asked him, in a tone that implied she was going to ask her question anyway "I mean you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. I was just wondering… how you grew up I suppose?" She said, trying to figure out how to word it properly. "I mean… did you go to school like normal kids or were you home schooled? Did you have any friends?" "huh..." that was a bit of a curveball, "well um...first, would you like to sit with me?" He said this while plopping the tea bags in their separate cups and began preparing them. At this point, he didn't think there was a reason for her to say no, even though assuming is what got him feeling like this in the first place. He grabbed his backpack, allowing Grace to sit, from there he pulled a water bottle from the pack and filled both cups with water. Using the remaining water he poured it on his hands, washing them and heat drying before sticking just the tip of his pinky in each cup and instant heating both to perfect drinkable temperatures. He passed the Styrofoam cup of tea to Grace before taking a sip of his own and telling his tale. "My father is an influential businessman, an investor in projects, among other things and my mother, she was the reason why I have my powers. She is no longer among us, but my father, he is the one who helped me develop my powers further. Early on in my youth I had a difficult time controlling my powers, he trained with me, nearly night and day, to meditate, contemplate, project myself into the cosmos." He took another drink before looking at Grace, "When I had more of a reign on my powers and I was more...contemplative, my father mostly left me to my own devices. He has caretakers who watch over me and tutor me, but for most of my life I lived in a peaceful seclusion, my only real contact with the outside world, to be honest, was whenever my father would allow me to accompany him to work." He took another drink of his tea, pausing to allow everything to settle in, "All in all, I think I grew up well."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked at him for a moment as he apologised and she simply smiled and giggled slightly. Perhaps they were not so different. "No no… I just meant next time you don't have to go to the effort of offering me some kind of incentive to sit with you. Nothing so fancy as tea." She tried to clarify as she sat down with him once he moved his bag. She guessed they were still in that early stages of friendship where they were still getting to know each other, so it was to be expected that there would be misunderstandings like this. Well at least she hoped they were in the early stages of friendship. Placing her tray on the table she listened to his story, both interested and surprised by some of it. "I see…" There was a sad note in her voice now, something maybe close to pity… sympathy. You'll have to forgive me for saying… but it sounds awfully lonely." She supposed she was one to talk, so figured that maybe an explanation was due. "It may be hard to believe… but I wasn't always so shy and timid. I used to have friends." Her tone became slightly sadder at this, longing. She missed her old friends. "It was early middle school I think. One of my friends had a bit of a mouth on him, and it got him into a lot of trouble sometimes. Onetime he said the wrong thing to the wrong guy and got into a physical fight, which the other guy was winning. He was hurting my friend and… I got mad. Really mad. I'd never taken control of a person before that day… and haven't since then. Up until that point I didn't even know it was a thing I could do, though since there is so much water in the body I guess I can understand it." She paused for a moment, sipping on her tea lightly. "It scared him. Scared me. I had to change schools because of that. After that incident though I was always that little bit afraid that something else would make me mad and I'd do to them what I did to that boy. It's not something I ever want to do to a person again. My friends didn't talk to me after that, even though I was in a different school there were ways they could have contacted me. But they didn't. I don't blame them I guess I wouldn't like it if I knew my friend had been keeping a secret like that from me." Freak had been the word of choice but it wasn't one she liked repeating.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He listened to her story, quietly, intently. While his story had been met with some form of sympathy, he simply brushed it off, he didn't desire it, because he didn't need to. Her story, however, showed him that they lived practically polar opposite childhoods and it confirmed one thing for him; she had power. Enough power to even take over an unwilling being, if only she knew what true water elementals could do. "My father once told me, that born, blessed, or cursed, once we have our powers, it has become a part of who we are." Kyle looked to Grace "You had an accident, you lost control, it happens, and unfortunately those around you were unable to understand it." He remained quiet for a bit, choosing his next words carefully. "Grace, I'm sorry for what happened to you, but...don't be afraid of who you are and what powers you possess. You're a good person at heart, I can tell that and I have no reason to fear you, even with your level of power." He sipped at his tea again, he could tell stories to Grace about the times he's lost control of his powers, how he's nearly burned down more things than he could count. Kyle's face became somewhat sullen at the thoughts.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked at him in surprise. She had never really thought about it that, always assuming she had been afraid of other people. But maybe he was right, though he hadn't said it in so many words; maybe she was afraid of herself and her powers. Maybe that was why she shied away from so many people. However it was the last sentence that made her look up in surprise, her brow furrowed in confusion. However after a few moments she simply shook her head and tried to laugh it off. "My level of power? No. You must be mistaken." Her power was just like everyone else, only that it was water based rather than the other kids. She wasn't any more powerful than the next person. That made no sense. She was sure everyone got angry and lost control and had things happen they were never able to recreate, either by choice or simply because they were unable to. "I'm no more special than anyone else." She assured him, looking back down at her cup of tea and frowning again. Kyla had lived his entire life on his own anyway; he'd never had other people to compare to just like she had. How could he possibly know how powerful a person was or wasn't? Especially when he'd seen so little of her powers being used?</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He smirked slightly, "Grace, I think you underestimate yourself." While it was true that he had seen little display of her power, he just had this...feeling that she had more potential than she was letting on. Her story about controlling that one person proved at least that she had the potential, if nothing else, at least to Kyle, it didn't seem like a story anyone would just make up. Perhaps he was getting a bit ahead of himself though. He smiled and relaxed his posture a little, "I suppose it really doesn't matter right now though, how powerful we are, after all we're just students trying to learn, leave the heroics to the professionals right?"</s>	<\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace smiled slightly at the boy's words and gave him a look. Exactly what kind of look she gave him she wasn't sure, but she supposed it didn't matter either way because he couldn't see her face. "Maybe I do…" The girl pondered aloud as she rubbed her finger on the cup in her hands, bringing it to her lips and sipping gently. He had her really thinking now. What if she was powerful? What would that even mean for her? She still wasn't sure what she wanted to do with her life. Being a super hero just seemed… too out of character for her. It didn't feel right. Did the magnitude of her power open up new opportunities for her? Turning back as Kyle spoke she smiled again, nodding slightly. "I suppose so…" She said, her voice clearly indicating that her thoughts were now on other things. "Do you know what you want to do with your life yet?" She asked eventually, turning back to look at him, thinking it was rude to just sit there quietly and not really add to the conversation. That and she wondered if maybe his answer may help her find some kind of direction in some way.</s>
<\|description\|>Kyle Parker Alias: N/A Age:16 Powers/limitations: Elemental Heritage (fire) -Naturally immune to fire attacks -Can naturally produce fire and heat using a mana source. -weak to water and cold attacks Curse of Rage -drastically increases fire abilities at the cost of succumbing to his fury. -curse is kept in check by magical seal created by his father. -severely drains mana source after use, long cool down. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte The sun began streaming in through the window, the light hitting Grace in the face and causing it to scrunch up before she opened her eyes reluctantly and rolled over, lying on her back and placing her hands behind her head as she stared at the ceiling. Today was her first day of high school. It was still taking a little while for that fact to sink in, it seemed like just yesterday her and her mother were moving in even though it was more like ten or so years ago now, right before she'd started primary school. Truth be told she hadn't thought about it much until now. Glancing over at her clock Grace sighed, realising she had a lot of time to fill before school was even close to starting now. Sliding out of bed she walked over to the large fish tank in her room, kneeling down and watching the small collection of guppies swimming around. "Morning guys." She said, still staring at them. After a few moments, however she sighed and stood up. "Still not talking to me hu?" Grace had always been slightly hopeful that, along with her water powers, she would have developed the ability to talk to marine creatures. To this day she'd had no such luck. Walking into the bathroom she also checked her neck for gills, another hopeful wish of hers. Though she was aware by now she'd probably developed all the powers she was going to she still liked to hope. She took a fairly long shower, seeing as she had a lot of time to spare and then went back to her room. She quickly closed her blinds and got dressed before heading downstairs. The house was quiet and still; meaning her mother still hadn't gotten back from her most recent crime fighting endeavours or she had gotten back rather late and was just asleep upstairs sleeping. Grace set about making herself some breakfast and sat down in the living room, turning on the TV and flipping to a channel that had cartoons. She did pause briefly on a news channel where her mother was fighting off some crazy bug lady. Obviously the result of last night's call out. However it was quickly over and she flicked over to cartoons. It wasn't that Grace was an overly childish person, she just enjoyed watching cartoons, mostly anime, which was often directed at an older audience anyway. They often had better plot than anything else that was on anyway.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker A void surrounded him, emptiness, nothingness, then something. A bright flash, the laughter of children, a lover's whisper. The elements sang, sang hymns of nature and solace, of war and chaos. Water and fire danced with one another, swirling in the emptiness, blissful. The elements were speaking to him, but he could not understand them, their words were blurred by the inferno suddenly engulfing him and then- "Master Parker," the unnaturally deep voice suddenly forcing him back to reality, broke the trance he was in, but the void remained, blackness enveloped his world once more. "Master Parker, it is time to wake and begin preparations for the day ahead." Kyle had already been awake for quite some time already, he had actually taken upon the opportunity to meditate and reflect upon the universe a skill he was taught early on by his father. Though Kyle knew how to project himself, his father knew that and more, even telling tales of delving into the far reaches of the astral plane, where only the pantheons would know what damnable beasts lurked in that darkness. That, however...was a story for another time. "Can I not be allowed five minutes more of silence to explore my mind further?" Kyle asked calmly. "Your father has expressed...great interest in your activity today, he would be most displeased to learn that you did not attend for...unjustifiable reasons." One of his father's creations, a soul bound to an autonomous being, a rather large thing, but with the patience and class of a professional 'care taker'. Supposedly it was made to look completely real, though the one time Kyle had looked upon his caretaker he was overcome with an insatiable rage and woke up hours later in his bed. Truthfully, he couldn't really make an opinion of it even if he wanted to. That being said, the automaton was completely right, though the activity mentioned was really just day one of a four year trip through high school; he wasn't looking forward to it. "I suppose you are right," he sighed, unfolding his legs and lifting himself up from the cushion he had chosen for his session. He moved forward, each step carefully memorized, he easily navigated his way over to what he knew was his mirror. He stared into what he knew was his reflection and it stared back, both completely unknowing as to what the other looked like. His eyes were closed, forced shut really, though it felt completely natural to Kyle at this point it was a side effect of the seal placed upon him. The seal was there to keep the curse at bay... "how many years has it been?" The thought echoed ".... Since birth, that's right," he'd nearly forgotten. The curse was something he was born with, it made it so that anything he looked upon would send him into a blinding rage, his powers improved drastically, but the destruction was...absolute. The seal was there to prevent him from destroying anything and everything, and so he stared into nothingness, emptiness, the void. He breathed in deeply, he had always dreamed that he would be able to open his eyes and see something without the rage overcoming him. Slowly as the years passed by, he realized that such a dream may never come true, it was something he had accepted, though hope flickered from time to time. Ah well... c'est la vie. He turned his head towards the automaton, "Prepare some breakfast and set out some clean clothes, I'm going to take a shower." "As you wish, Master Parker," the large creature stepped back into the hall closing the door behind him. Kyle turned his head back towards the mirror, he stared into the void, and it stared back.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Stretching out with a yawn and a small sigh Grace stood, taking her bowl over to the sink in the kitchen and rinsing it out before placing it in the dishwasher. Looking out the kitchen window she thought for a moment she saw some movement in the house next door, but by the time she looked it was already gone. It was always so dark over there, the curtains always drawn. Compared to her own house, which was always open, bright, warm and airy it seemed a sad way of life even though she had been taught never to judge someone without knowing their story. She didn't even know who or what kind of people lived there. Going around the house Grace made sure that everything was closed up and locked before she gathered her bag and her house keys, locking the front door behind her she began making her way down the street to the bus stop. It had rained last night, so everything was glistening with water and puddles covered the ground. She reached out, letting her hands brush against the plants as she passed, small water droplets transferring onto her hand or falling onto the ground. She always loved the smell of everything after it had rained. It smelt fresher, cleaner. Gray clouds still hung overhead, meaning they may even get more rain later. The girl felt, needless to say, most at home when she was surrounded by water. Smiling to herself she jumped up onto a small brick wall that was the fence to someone's yard and began walking along it with her arms outstretched to the sides. It was only a short walk to the bus stop, but she always tried to enjoy it as much as possible. If the school had been closer she would have been happy to walk or even ride a bike. The bus itself was not the most pleasant of places. Kids there were always so crude. She herself had been called immature plenty of times, but at least she still acted intelligent, she just enjoyed childish things. Whereas most people her age acted like idiots most of the time and she highly doubted it was out of choice, believe they truly didn't know any better. Up ahead there was a large puddle and Grace smiled, running a short ways before jumping off the low brick wall and into the puddle, splashing water in all directions and giggling happily to herself. There was just something about jumping in puddles that made her laugh.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He turned the water knob, the hot one only, and steaming water came running out, as the tub filled he removed his clothing and when it filled he tested the waters. A small smile made its way upon his lips, the temperature would have been way too hot for anyone else to handle, but to Kyle this was just right...though it could probably use a little more heat. He stepped into the water, and lowered himself in, calling upon his mana he breathed in deeply and exhaled, allowing his body temperature to heat up the water from scalding hot to boiling, literally. Easing himself in, he sighed, his muscles greatly enjoyed the intense heat and his lungs filled up with the steaming air. To him, this was Nirvana, and he would take as much time as he could to enjoy it. Time passed and after feeling satisfied, he stepped out from the water, drained the tub and toweled off. He made his way back to his room and towards his bed... his clothes were there, perfect. Dressing himself, he wandered near the window and pulled back the curtain ever so slightly and stared in the direction of the house next to his. He didn't know what it looked like, but every so often he'd... sense, the vibrancy of the house, a latent talent to having a mana source, a form of innate six sense. He couldn't identify what an object was or who a person was, but he could sense the presence of the being, the movements being made and the emotions being felt. There was always something about that house that felt...different, like it was lighter in comparison to his own, maybe it was the presences he felt inside, but there was usually a sense of joy coming from that house. Speaking of which, a presence made itself known, he couldn't tell what it was doing exactly, though it was something with their hands based on the movement. A glimmer, the presence shifted where it was looking and Kyle receded back from the window, he didn't want to provoke unwanted attention, especially with the kind of person his father was. A smell wafted its way into his room, finishing dressing he made his way downstairs to eat his breakfast, then afterwards his caretaker would drive him to school.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Standing on the street corner Grace waited for the bus, her hands clasped behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels, humming to herself. An odd bubbly feeling in her stomach made itself known. Nerves. Butterflies beating themselves against the walls of her gut. Of course she was nervous. During primary and middle school she had been attending with normal humans. All her friends had been there, since most other like her had been… well like her and kept their abilities hidden from others. Now she was entering this new school with people she didn't know all with super powers like her. What if she didn't match up? What if they laughed at her? What if no one liked her? Reaching into her bag she took out her water bottle and took a long drink, the water usually helping to calm her nerves. She noticed the bus approaching and raised her hand to signal for it to stop and quickly climbed aboard. Looking down the aisle she quickly selected a seat with no one currently occupying it and made a beeline for it, sitting down and keeping her vision straight. If she didn't look at anyone then she couldn't offend. If she didn't offend no one would be tempted to beat the snot out of her. The reasonable and rational side of her tried to assure her that no one was going to beat her up because she looked at them funny. But the side of her that watched too many teenage movies told her to fear everyone and everything. The ride was only short, luckily, and no one decided to sit next to her. Grace was certain she looked as scared as she felt. It was strange too because she wasn't usually one to be so nervous. Once the bus arrived at the school she sat patiently, waiting for everyone else to get off before she did so as to avoid getting in anyone's way. Picking up her bag he quickly disembarked and stopped for a moment, looking up at the building. It looked just like any other school really. As she stood there she felt a small drop of water, then another and another before the heavens opened up and started raining down upon them. It was a light shower really, but it made her smile and giggle as if the water washed away all the worries she'd had.</s>	<\|message\|>Kyle Parker At the door Kyle tied up his shoes, standing he went to retrieve the two things that openly signified his blindness, his sunglasses and his cane. This was probably the one thing he detested the most, not because he was embarrassed to use them, but because it gave the wrong impression of him. His father encouraged the misinterpretation, he told him it was a weakness he could exploit. Begrudgingly he put on the sunglasses, the frame and lenses wrapping around his head so they completely blocked out his eyes and picked up the cane. Turning and waiting patiently, the caretaker approached and opened the door leading the way for Kyle as he followed behind, before being ushered into the backseat of the car. The car's interior felt nice, smooth leather, with the kind of work his father did, Kyle knew he was well off, more so than most others. The car ride itself was pretty uneventful, the caretaker spoke only when he needed to and never made conversation, though Kyle more than preferred it this way. Quiet was a great escape for him, it brought him back to the void of his mind where he could project himself, explore himself, think and drink deeply from the fruits of knowledge. It was the subtle pattering of rainfall that brought him out of his thoughts once more and he stared in the direction of the window, facing the moving world. Everything he sensed was nothing more than brief flickers, he had no idea what was going on out there, only that something was happening. The fast moving world suddenly slowed though and the car brought itself to a stop. "Wait one moment, Master Parker," The caretaker spoke, slow and deep. "That won't be necessary, caretaker," he replied reaching for the door handle. "Your father insists upon it..." Kyle's hand falters for a just a moment before retreating back into his lap, "Proceed." The caretaker nodded to Kyle so slow, he wasn't sure if the caretaker had moved at all. Exiting the vehicle, the caretaker made his way around the car to open Kyle's door, stepping aside so as to let Kyle pass through. Sighing to himself, Kyle exits the vehicle.</s>
<\|description\|>Kyle Parker Alias: N/A Age:16 Powers/limitations: Elemental Heritage (fire) -Naturally immune to fire attacks -Can naturally produce fire and heat using a mana source. -weak to water and cold attacks Curse of Rage -drastically increases fire abilities at the cost of succumbing to his fury. -curse is kept in check by magical seal created by his father. -severely drains mana source after use, long cool down. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker The rain pattered on Kyle, only for it to instantly evaporate on contact with his skin, rainwater wasn't really a bother for him, though it was unusual for rain to suddenly stop in one spot yet continue everywhere else. Looking up he sensed the water sort of...just sliding away from him, not hitting anything, just moving away from him, as if they were curtains parting open for him. Kyle looked to his caretaker, who had already worked out Kyle's distress. "A young girl Master Parker, I believe she is the cause." "Hm..." he looked up at the sliding water then towards the energy of the girl, there was activity, "water manipulation?" "That would be the most plausible assumption." Unusual that someone would just go out of their way for some complete stranger, it made Kyle feel somewhat paranoid, "The question is...what's her angle?" "You are asking me a question as to speculate upon a specific situation, this is something I cannot do." "I'm more than well aware, caretaker..." he calmly stated before beginning to ponder thoughtfully on his situation. "However..." the caretaker spoke, taking Kyle slightly aback, "if any word were to be used to describe her actions, it would be kindness." "Kindness? ...heh," that wasn't a word he was used to, it was...unusual that someone would just go out of their way like that simply just out of a sense of kindness, but the words the caretaker uses are always thougtful, the caretaker contemplated it deeply to even have had a sense of a word. To pick kindness though... "Very well then, I think that will be all caretaker," Kyle nodded slowly and the caretaker did so back before they parted ways. Kyle's cane scraped along the ground, tapping here and there to identify obstacles that were new and unusual to him. That being said, he really didn't ever need to use the cane, his sense abilities were already more than enough to compensate, but the cane was for appearances. After all, who knows, maybe a girl who would do something out of kindness, completely at random, could be used to his benefit. That...however, would have to be determined later down the road, if she was to even follow him down that road at all. As he moved, he couldn't help but notice the manipulation area move along with him, until it dispersed as he made his way underneath the covering. He stood in front of the girl, though he couldn't see what she actually looked like, he could sense that she was...vibrant. Kindness....perhaps the caretaker's words do hold true. Kyle looked in her general direction and smiled, "Thank you for helping me out there, that was nice of you," then he introduced himself, "my name is Kyle, Kyle Parker."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace waited until the boy got under cover and was about to turn and leave, in quite a hurry, she may add. However stopped for a moment when she looked at him properly. It almost looked like he was looking at her… but that made no sense. It was only in her general direction but it was her general direction! And he smiled at her! He was blind… how did he know where she was? And then it occurred to her that she was at a school for people with powers. She wasn't sure what his were exactly, but they were helping him to navigate whatever they were. And then he thanked her and once again she was thrown into a nervous confusion. How did he know? Maybe he could red minds. Maybe he was reading her mind right now and was thinking how much of an idiot she was. Regardless it would have been rude of her to not say anything at all now that he had introduced himself. "G-Grace." She stumbled for a moment, her voice a little shaky. Grace was kind and bubbly in her own right, but she was also very shy and nervous around people she didn't know. "Don't mention it, with the water thing, really. I'm sure mostly anyone would have done the same thing… maybe." She once again nibbled at her lip and took her water bottle out again, taking another sip. It was a nervous habit of hers, since water always seemed to have a calming effect on her and it wasn't like she was able to just take some water out and start playing with it to calm herself down. Well not until now that was. She wasn't sure on the school's policy about using powers for personal reasons during class. "I um…" As if it had read her mind and had swooped in to save her the bell rung and she let out an internal sigh of relief. "I have to go, sorry. Class and… and stuff. Don't want to be late on my first day." She turned and walked away for as long as she thought she could get away with before picking up the pace to a run, taking off down the hall, which was rather wet and slippery. Instantly the playfulness came out in her and she moved to freeze the water and began sliding along the hall, making sure to return it to the less dangerous water state behind her.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker Kyle's eyebrow raised itself slightly, her vibrancy was changing, almost shaking, was she frightened? Her voice finally responded after a long moment of hesitation, "G-Grace." Ah, she was nervous, that was...completely understandable. She accepted his thanks timidly, even though his ears were used more than his eyes, he actually had a hard time catching the last bits of it as it drowned out. judging by her voice, she sounded young, around his age, along with her 'demonstration' she had powers, meaning she was some kind of super, like him. The sound of a water bottle being opened, sipped, then closed brought him out of his brief thoughts. "I um..." she started, before the bell rang and she quickly excused herself before walking, then running into the building. Kyle stood standing there, staring at the direction she ran off too, somewhat confused at the sudden departure. Perhaps he had frightened her unintentionally....right the blind thing, and yet he knew exactly where she was to begin with, that wasn't his fault...his caretaker told him about her to begin with. He shrugged, really he couldn't be bothered with this, it was a first chance encounter and it didn't end exceptionally well, end of story, move on. Out of everything said, the girl had at least one bit of useful information, it was time to get to class and NOT be late on the first day. Whistling ever so softly he began to move forward, tapping his cane against the wall every so often as he began memorizing the layout of the building whilst making his way to his first class.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace managed to find her way to her first class without much trouble, the building was fairly well set out, and there was a map attached to the back of her schedule. As she moved to sit at a desk a thought occurred to her and as she sat down she slammed her head onto the table. She was an idiot. An absolute total ditz. She'd just left a blind kid on his own to find his way around. This was not the best way for her to start the year. She tried to reassure herself that maybe it would be alright. She had no idea who that kid was; maybe he had already been here before and was in a year above her. Either way she felt sick again. Maybe someone here had time powers and could take her back to this morning before she got on the bus so she could do everything over again. That'd be perfect. A woman walked in, looking slightly flustered and busy and Grace smiled despite herself, glad the new year wasn't hard on just the students. "Good morning class, good morning. This is home room, my name is Miss Glimmer… I'll be your home room supervisor. I'm also the head of the arts department." She set some papers onto the desk and skimmed through them. "Oh yes, freshman need to go to the gym for specialised class assignments." Grace frowned slightly, not sure what exactly 'specialised class assignments' were. But she figured she'd find out what it was all about when she got there. Standing along with a dozen other confused looking students Grace followed along, checking the map on the back of her schedule again to make sure she was going the right way. Meeting up with the rest of her year she stood just on the outskirts of the group, waiting for something to happen.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker The bells resounded throughout the hall before falling silent once more. "Damn, guess I am going to be late," Kyle thought, a dry chuckle erupting from his throat. Ah well, he knew damn well he could get away with it this one time, he was, by all legal definition, blind. His right hand ran along the wall, and his cane skittered across the floor, tapping the wall every so often. Often times the walls were bare, but he'd come to a row of lockers or a room door, his hand brushing against the room number and the tiny indentations in braille. He'd already memorized which side had even numbers and which side had odds, so all he had to do was find the right floor, the right side, then he'd be golden. It wasn't too long after the second bell that he found which room he was assigned for homeroom. The door was closed and he tapped on the window pane in the door, requesting that he might enter, a voice replied from the other side, signalling him to enter. "Can I help you, young man?" The voice was male, older, sophisticated, something Kyle could work with. "My name is Kyle Parker, sir, I'm assigned to this homeroom." The sound of papers shuffling preceded the response, "Ah yes, Mr. Parker, thank you for finally joining us, I trust your tardiness won't happen often?" "Of course not sir, just need to memorize the building first," he smiled. "Very well then, as for introductions my name is Dr. Barthandulus, I am the head of the science department as well as your homeroom teacher. You can remain standing Parker, we'll find you a seat afterwards." "Afterwards?" Kyle thought. Papers shuffled once more before the teacher spoke, "alright class, everyone is to head to the gym immediately for special class assignments, let's go." The sound of chairs sliding out from under desks resonated throughout the classroom as the dozen or so students, Kyle included, all made their way to the gym. The Doctor asked Kyle if he needed any assistance, but was met with a smile and a head shake no, stating that he was perfectly fine. This was good though, something his father would have expected of him, he smiled somewhat devilishly, but quickly masked his expression as they approached the gym. When inside he stood towards the back of the group and waited patiently for their 'special class assignments', whatever that entailed.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace wondered how long they had been waiting, though honestly it could have only been a few minutes. Finally a figure walked in, a woman though she looked very different to her home room teacher. This woman seemed powerful; she walked very upright with her shoulders held back and her head high. Her hair was dark brown and tied in a tight bun behind her head and she carried a clipboard in her arms. "Good morning students, my name is Principal Nightingale, I know, it's a bit of a mouthful. That aside, some of you are no doubt wondering what you're doing here." She smiled and Grace decided she liked her; she seemed like a gentle person. "Well, our school is obviously not like a lot of other school in the district. You'll find some normal classes but we also have a range of classes specifically aimed at our unique conditions. However with the wide variety of powers we encounter amongst our students we have learnt it is best to divide you into classes with those most similar to you, so as to specialise the class so that you may gain the most out of the experience." She paused for a moment and just looked at them. Grace wondered what she was doing before she looked back to the clipboard. "So when I read your name please move off to your corresponding teacher who will have an ability similar to your group. During your enrolment we were informed of your powers, so as to have time to plan what groupings would work best with your year, however if you feel like you may be better fitted in another power grouping feel free to come speak with me after everyone has been placed." And with that she began reading off names, in alphabetical order which made Grace sigh. She would be one of the last to be called. Stupid alphabetical order. "Kyle Parker, elementals." Just over half the group had been divided but Grace perked up when she heard that name. She knew that name. Looking around she noticed the boy from this morning. Elementals? He was like her? Or at least like enough to her that they should be paired in the same group. The main group continued to get smaller and smaller and her name was finally called, second last. "Grace Whyte, elementals." Standing the girl walked over to the group, once again standing on the outskirts. Looking over at Kyle she smiled and waved shyly, a small gesture to hopefully show she felt bad for running off on him this morning.</s>	<\|message\|>Kyle Parker Running his finger over the indentations in his watch, Kyle determined a little bit of time had passed since they first arrived in the gym. Personally, it didn't entirely matter how long it took, time was something he could work with and patience had become one of his best virtues. Suddenly voices lowered as the loud tapping of heels to wood echoed through the gym. Perfect timing, he closed his watch and listened intently as the heels came to a stop. "Good morning students, my name is Principal Nightingale, I know, it's a bit of a mouthful." A bit of a mouthful? Just how low were they setting their standards here? "That aside, some of you are no doubt wondering what you're doing here." He put a finger to his chin and thought over her words carefully, she sounded powerful, confident, informative, everything that a good principal would need, even in a school of supers. As she continued on, she explained to the students about what they were doing here, what the school was trying to accomplish, and of course, what their 'special class assignments' were. So they were grouping students into categories, well he was the literal definition of an elemental, so he'd most likely be grouped there, he wondered... "Kyle Parker, elementals." Speak of the devil... He made his way over to the group of students classified as elementals, most of them were conversing among other, either with close friends who were grouped with them or new students introducing themselves to others. Kyle of course, remained away from the group, closer to his silence, he wasn't exactly here to make friends. "Grace Whyte, elementals." He thought as much, her earlier display would make her an avid candidate in the elemental category. He sensed as her aura approached, well...he could only assume, but the vibrancy of it was soft, not nearly as timid or nervous as it was earlier. He sensed movement from her, just from one spot on her body, back and forth, was she waving. Looking in her direction he smiled a little to acknowledge her, "Nice to see you again, especially after such a long time," he grinned a little, a bit of teasing never hurt anyone and it might actually help her relax a little if she was still nervous.</s>
<\|description\|>Kyle Parker Alias: N/A Age:16 Powers/limitations: Elemental Heritage (fire) -Naturally immune to fire attacks -Can naturally produce fire and heat using a mana source. -weak to water and cold attacks Curse of Rage -drastically increases fire abilities at the cost of succumbing to his fury. -curse is kept in check by magical seal created by his father. -severely drains mana source after use, long cool down. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker She seemed much more relaxed now than his first interaction with her not even twenty minutes ago, to Kyle, this was good; however. His brow crinkled slightly at her response, so he had startled her, he actually felt kind of bad for that. For what reason though? The whole thing was so inconsequential, and yet here he was feeling guilt for causing such a minor thing to escalate...well not escalate that might be taking it somewhat dramatically; regardless. "I apologize, I didn't mean to startle you with that. Knowing a person is there when I can't see them is just something that comes so naturally that I sometimes forget about it," he pondered this a bit, his finger rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "I suppose that's not really good, forgetting things like that," he smiled a bit weakly at that, but returned back to more a normal expression. She moved to speak once more until the rather large aura began to speak. His voice was loud and thunderous, actually it was a bit deafening, Kyle found himself digging in his ears afterwards to check his hearing. He told them what their classes were going to be, where, etc. all part of the orientation. When he asked for questions, Kyle remained silent as other students asked their general questions. He pretty much had an idea of what was to go down, but in all honesty, he just didn't care to ask any questions he never felt he needed to, everything else he'd find out eventually. Looking over to Grace, her aura had changed again, back to a nervous frequency. He sighed internally, this girl, how she could be so skittish knowing where she was going... No he couldn't judge her based on that, not everyone was like he was, cool, in control... Maybe it was time to return the favor, keeping his senses open and alert he used his cane to gently tap her foot. When he got her attention he gave her a reassuring smile, as if to say, "don't be nervous."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Feeling something tap on her foot Grace looked up to see Kyle smiling at her and she smiled gently in return. She knew she was too timid, people had often told her but she couldn't help it. She had always viewed attention as bad; because of the fear her powers may be discovered. However things were different here and she needed to remember that. There were probably other fears she could have in this new environment however she thought that the less thought she gave to them the less they'd bother her. Mr Steele suddenly spoke up again, catching her by surprise. "Alright then, you've got about ten minuted before your next class is supposed to start. Stay in the gym, but have some free time." "Can't help it." She whispered back, feeling safe in speaking now that they'd been dismissed. "I mean… what if I don't hold up against the others?" What if she was labelled the weak link? Smiling despite herself she shrugged slightly. I didn't really get to practice my powers a lot when I was younger… I guess I'm not that confident in myself." She shrugged slightly, thinking maybe she had said too much. Grace was aware that she sometimes spoke too much but smiled despite herself. "Sorry," She shrugged slightly. As before she found herself curious as to how his powers worked, how he saw and things like that but was much too polite to ask. So she instead chose to ask something else since she really didn't know much about him. "So do you have any siblings?" She paused for a moment but decided not to ask about his parents, since it could sometimes be a sensitive subject for people, especially people like them. "I don't have any myself, but I kind of always wanted one. It wouldn't have been as quiet growing up."</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He could feel her smile, but her aura remained almost entirely unchanged; what a timid girl. It wasn't too long after that Mr. Steele fired off again and Grace began to speak to him once more. "Can't help it." She whispered back, "I mean… what if I don't hold up against the others?" Oh man, her confidence was staggeringly low, "I didn't really get to practice my powers a lot when I was younger… I guess I'm not that confident in myself. Sorry"She paused for a bit before asking another question, "So do you have any siblings? I don't have any myself, but I kind of always wanted one. It wouldn't have been as quiet growing up." "No I...don't have siblings." His brow crinkled, something was eating him, she was changing the subject because she wasn't confident in herself. Damn it, he felt bad for her again, this girl was doing things to him, messing with his head, but that couldn't be the case, because no one could actually be that...that...shit... "Grace," he began, this was going to be a long one, "speaking honestly, I don't think you need to worry too much, I can guarantee you that most of the students here probably haven't had a lot chances to use their powers either, probably for safety reasons. You'll have your shining star or two, but from what I can gather already your water powers already seem to be at a good level. The thing you did earlier today, shielding me from the rain, it may not seem like much, but it was a lot of fast moving droplets of water, constantly showering an area, yet you were moving them out and down away from me consistently without faltering. Even as I approached you remained in the same state, not once did you try to catch your breath. Just based on that initial observation, and for what its worth" he leaned against the gym bleachers, nicely folded up for the school day activities, "I think you're going to outclass a lot of these chumps."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked to Kyle in surprise as he changed the topic on her again. However his words made her smile and a blush spread over her cheeks and she glanced down slightly in modesty, glad he couldn't see the red in her cheeks. "It… it was nothing really. I've done things like that tones of times before. I…" She took a small breath and looked up at his face still smiling gently and nodded slightly. "Thank you." No one had ever really said something like that to her about her powers. Then again there hadn't been much chance to now she thought about it. Maybe he was right. Maybe she needed to stop worrying so much. "But now you've got me a little curious. It was something I've been wondering for a little bit now, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to. But I was kind of wondering… what your powers were? And how you can see without really using your eyes like a lot of us have to." The girl dared to ask. She wouldn't hold it against him if he didn't want to tell her, but he just seemed so confident, despite everything. It gave her hope in a way; if he could be so sure of her then maybe she'd be able to be surer of herself too. She had never really thought her powers were anything special, but that was comparing herself to her mother and other supers… maybe her problem had just been that she'd been setting unrealistic goals and expectations of herself. Either way she decided there that she liked this guy, and could see being around him very beneficial for her. Hopefully he didn't mind if she hung around him.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker A wave of emotions flooded her aura, but the one thing he was really looking for, was for her to relax and that mad him smile; even more so when he could feel the heat from her cheeks. She tried to be modest about it at first, but eventually thanked him. He couldn't help but smile a little, for some reason, her smiling made him smile, it was...a good feeling, not one he felt often. It seemed like whatever he said boosted her confidence a little and made her relaxed enough to start asking about him and his powers. "Ah, I was wondering when that was going to be brought up," he raised his head up," ahhhh now where to begin... ok, so you know that most supers get their powers through genetics, via some form of mutation in them right? I'm something a little different, a little more wild so speak, but that might just be me being dramatic. My powers are the direct result of being a descendant of a fire elemental, in other words, I can control that element, produce it and extinguish it at will. As for my sight, because of my inherently magical nature, I have access to what's known as a 'mana source' and a power called 'mana'. Mana is a source of energy for all life, it flows and ebbs through everything, but is completely invisible to the naked eye, because of my source, I can sense that mana. While you might see me for what I am, whatever that may be, the way I see you is as this constantly flowing and waving source of colors. I can sense exactly where you are, what actions you're doing and," he smirked at this, "honestly your fiery red cheeks."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte "Oh…" Grace said, some of it making sense to her, some of it losing her a little. The whole mana thing was not a concept she was familiar with, he did a fairly good job explaining it. "I got my powers from my mum." She piped up quickly. "Elementals run in our family too, though she's more earth, so we're still not sure why I ended up with water… we figured it has something to do with natures, that certain elements just work better for certain natures." However when he mentioned that he could see her blushing Grace gasped slightly, dropping her gaze back to the ground and feeling her cheeks burning even fiercer. The girl was quiet for a few moments when someone else spoke up. "Aww look, isn't that cute? She's got a crush on the blind boy!" Gasping again Grace looked up and to the source of the voice. A girl who was a fair bit taller than her with dark brown hair and green eyes. "Look how red she is." "I… don't" Grace replied softly, her voice barely auditable. "What was that? You need to speak up, I didn't hear you?" "I said I don't…" She said, only a fraction louder, still not enough to be heard very well. Tears were now starting to well up in her eyes on top of it all and she took a few nervous steps away as the other girl advanced on her. She shook her head slightly. "Sorry sweetie still can't hear you." It wasn't entirely clear if her intent was malicious or not, she hadn't said anything outright mean, though she had invited herself into a private conversation. Either way it was making Grace uncomfortable and she began to look around for the quickest exit.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker She seemed to get the gist of the explanation, though some of the technical stuff might have been over her head. She explained her origin as well, seemed like she was an elemental as well although...maybe she lost touch with her magical roots...maybe his father could show her something or even...well it was something to think on later. After having mentioned her blushing though he had to wonder if he took his teasing too far, that was until someone gave him the answer clear as day. "Aww look, isn't that cute? She's got a crush on the blind boy! Look how red she is." This looked bad, Grace's aura suddenly shifted, timidity and fear enveloped her and a new aura approached; he felt webs of aggression. The new aura taunted Grace, stricken with fear of this new adversary she slowly backed away. No, he couldn't let that overcome him, but he couldn't just let this injustice take place either. "Ahem!" This attracted the girl's attention as he stepped in-between her and Grace, "you interrupted our conversation, please leave." His face was stone cold, but his insides raged with a fire he wanted to loose upon her. "Ooh what's this? Casanova gonna protect his little girlfriend?" She began taunting him, but he was unimpressed, Grace on the other hand, she probably felt that one. He was going to get this girl away from Grace, he just needed something to give him an edge in the conversation, anything would help, but until then, all he could say was. "I'm not going to ask you again," his body was becoming more like a furnace.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked up very slightly at the intervention of Kyle, her gaze slightly curious amongst the other emotions overwhelming her. At the other girl's words she looked back down. The other girl smiled slightly at the boy's words and tossed her hair slightly with a smirk and a small scoff. "Cool your jets hot stuff, I was just teasing." She said carelessly as she turned and walked away, joining a group of other very tall and attractive looking girls whom she began laughing with as if the whole encounter with the pair had never happened. Grace slowly looked away from them and then back to Kyle with a small smile. She reached out to touch him for a moment, before feeling the heat radiating off his body and quickly retracted her hand, holding it gently. "Thank you." She said gently, looking at him with another small smile as she wiped away the small tears that had formed in her eyes. "You didn't have to… but I'm glad you did. Sometimes it feels like everyone can sense my nervousness. I'm like a wounded gazelle on the Serengeti. The bullies just seem to smell me coming from a mile away." She actually laughed softly and seemed to have calmed down and mostly gotten over her nervousness from before. "I'll try not to be a burden like that in the future." She promised. "Do you always get all hot when you get mad?" Grace asked curiously, remembering how he'd been practically radiating heat. No doubt if she'd touched him she would have burnt herself.</s>	<\|message\|>Kyle Parker Kyle remained as stone faced as ever even in the girl's flippancy and departure. Once she was back with her group Kyle relaxed a bit, letting his guard down, he turned around to face Grace. "Thank you. You didn't have to… but I'm glad you did. Sometimes it feels like everyone can sense my nervousness. I'm like a wounded gazelle on the Serengeti. The bullies just seem to smell me coming from a mile away. I'll try not to be a burden like that in the future." He felt somewhat relieved that she was alright, her aura had shifted back to normal too. That being said, he was saddened by the fact that she felt the way she did about herself. To have such a low confidence, to the point of considering yourself to be a burden to others, what made her feel this way to begin with? "Do you always get all hot when you get mad?" Taken aback he looked down at his hand, before growing somewhat solemn, "Sorry," he spoke, "sometimes I forget to control the heat, but...fires rage, its in their nature," looking down at her he noticed she was holding her hand, "Grace...did I hurt you?" He looked to her slightly concerned.</s>
<\|description\|>Kyle Parker Alias: N/A Age:16 Powers/limitations: Elemental Heritage (fire) -Naturally immune to fire attacks -Can naturally produce fire and heat using a mana source. -weak to water and cold attacks Curse of Rage -drastically increases fire abilities at the cost of succumbing to his fury. -curse is kept in check by magical seal created by his father. -severely drains mana source after use, long cool down. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace was in line for food at the cafeteria when she felt someone tap on her shoulder and she turned quickly, looking surprised before she realised who it was and smiled gently. "Tea the meal or tea the beverage made of hot water and dried leaves?" She replied with a small laugh. "I like both. A very calming drink; tea." She contemplated for a moment. Honestly it wasn't a drink she had a lot, since she rarely drank anything else besides water for a number of reasons. It had a load of health benefits, was exceptionally calming for her, and having a drink bottle full of water was always comforting since she couldn't conjure water out of the air, but was limited to manipulating existing sources. That being said tea was still a nice drink. "Why is that?" Grace eventually asked. She doubted someone would have brought tea to school would they have? It didn't seem like a thing that was practical to bring to school. The line moved up slightly and Grace took a few steps with them. She wasn't overly keen on the whole school lunches thing, but she had forgotten to pack her own this morning so she was stuck with whatever the school was providing. It didn't look as bad as she'd heard they were supposed to be though.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker Grace's aura spiked for only a moment before the realization of who he was came to her and her body language relaxed; he simply smiled at her. Her answer had caught him off guard as his brain came to a halt, the gears eventually worked themselves out and he laughed along with her. Laughing, it wasn't something he experienced to often, but with Grace it came almost naturally, he wondered if her personality was having just as much of an effect on him as his was on her's. Eventually she ended up asking him, "why is that?" "Well, I happened to bring along an extra bag with me today and I thought you'd might like some," truthfully he was going to drink the second bag later in the afternoon, not that he was going to mention that bit to her. Just from his few encounters with her, she seemed like the type to enjoy calming things like tea. Admittedly there was an ulterior motive than just offering tea out of good will, he figured it would help her relax that much more, maybe get her to open up more and hear more of her tale. "I just need a container to heat it up in," sensing the area he found a stack of Styrofoam cups, "perfect, I'll go save a couple of seats." Making his way around her and out of line he snagged a couple of cups, just for good measure. He sensed around the entire cafeteria, pinpointing an area that would be out of the way and din the noise a little. Cafeterias were good for meeting up with people you wanted to meet up with, but for a new coming loner like Kyle and the timid personality Grace had, he figured secluded would be better. Eventually finding a more out of the way spot he made his way there and secured it, propping his bag in the place where Grace would sit. Satisfied, he pulled out the tea bags from his pack, including a ceramic mug he had brought from home and sat down in the empty space across his backpack, awaiting Grace's arrival.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Smiling happily Grace shook her head slightly, despite herself. "Thank you, but I'm fine really…" She trailed off as he began looking around for containers and moved off, saying he was going to go save her a seat. Tilting her head slightly the girl wondered to herself. He was certainly a strange one, Kyle. Maybe that was why she liked him. He didn't seem like the others around here. The entire time she'd seen him he hadn't seemed all that interested in anyone else. He hadn't gone out of his way to speak to anyone else that she'd seen. As the line moved Grace eventually collected her lunch and made her way over to where the boy was sitting over in a corner away from the busyness of the cafeteria and walked over to him. He had his bag placed on the seat opposite him and she paused for a moment. She assumed it was a seat for her, but at the same didn't want to go touching his things without permission. "You know… if you wanted me to sit with you… you just had to ask." She said softly as a thought occurred to her and she looked at him curiously. "Kyle… do you mind if I ask you a question?" Grace on, still standing there unsure exactly to in the situation. "I mean you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. I was just wondering… how you grew up I suppose?" She said, trying to figure out how to word it properly. "I mean… did you go to school like normal kids or were you home schooled? Did you have any friends?"</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker It didn't take Grace too long afterwards for her to meet up with Kyle, he waited patiently for her to sit, but after noticing how her aura was reacting, he raised an eyebrow. "You know... if you wanted me to sit with you... you just had to ask." Suddenly it felt like a pit opened up in his gut and he suddenly felt like an ass, completely assuming that Grace was just going to come over and sit with him. But... "I apologize," he started, "I guess I just thought after our talk before class that we would..." "Kyle… do you mind if I ask you a question?" Grace asked him, in a tone that implied she was going to ask her question anyway "I mean you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. I was just wondering… how you grew up I suppose?" She said, trying to figure out how to word it properly. "I mean… did you go to school like normal kids or were you home schooled? Did you have any friends?" "huh..." that was a bit of a curveball, "well um...first, would you like to sit with me?" He said this while plopping the tea bags in their separate cups and began preparing them. At this point, he didn't think there was a reason for her to say no, even though assuming is what got him feeling like this in the first place. He grabbed his backpack, allowing Grace to sit, from there he pulled a water bottle from the pack and filled both cups with water. Using the remaining water he poured it on his hands, washing them and heat drying before sticking just the tip of his pinky in each cup and instant heating both to perfect drinkable temperatures. He passed the Styrofoam cup of tea to Grace before taking a sip of his own and telling his tale. "My father is an influential businessman, an investor in projects, among other things and my mother, she was the reason why I have my powers. She is no longer among us, but my father, he is the one who helped me develop my powers further. Early on in my youth I had a difficult time controlling my powers, he trained with me, nearly night and day, to meditate, contemplate, project myself into the cosmos." He took another drink before looking at Grace, "When I had more of a reign on my powers and I was more...contemplative, my father mostly left me to my own devices. He has caretakers who watch over me and tutor me, but for most of my life I lived in a peaceful seclusion, my only real contact with the outside world, to be honest, was whenever my father would allow me to accompany him to work." He took another drink of his tea, pausing to allow everything to settle in, "All in all, I think I grew up well."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked at him for a moment as he apologised and she simply smiled and giggled slightly. Perhaps they were not so different. "No no… I just meant next time you don't have to go to the effort of offering me some kind of incentive to sit with you. Nothing so fancy as tea." She tried to clarify as she sat down with him once he moved his bag. She guessed they were still in that early stages of friendship where they were still getting to know each other, so it was to be expected that there would be misunderstandings like this. Well at least she hoped they were in the early stages of friendship. Placing her tray on the table she listened to his story, both interested and surprised by some of it. "I see…" There was a sad note in her voice now, something maybe close to pity… sympathy. You'll have to forgive me for saying… but it sounds awfully lonely." She supposed she was one to talk, so figured that maybe an explanation was due. "It may be hard to believe… but I wasn't always so shy and timid. I used to have friends." Her tone became slightly sadder at this, longing. She missed her old friends. "It was early middle school I think. One of my friends had a bit of a mouth on him, and it got him into a lot of trouble sometimes. Onetime he said the wrong thing to the wrong guy and got into a physical fight, which the other guy was winning. He was hurting my friend and… I got mad. Really mad. I'd never taken control of a person before that day… and haven't since then. Up until that point I didn't even know it was a thing I could do, though since there is so much water in the body I guess I can understand it." She paused for a moment, sipping on her tea lightly. "It scared him. Scared me. I had to change schools because of that. After that incident though I was always that little bit afraid that something else would make me mad and I'd do to them what I did to that boy. It's not something I ever want to do to a person again. My friends didn't talk to me after that, even though I was in a different school there were ways they could have contacted me. But they didn't. I don't blame them I guess I wouldn't like it if I knew my friend had been keeping a secret like that from me." Freak had been the word of choice but it wasn't one she liked repeating.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He listened to her story, quietly, intently. While his story had been met with some form of sympathy, he simply brushed it off, he didn't desire it, because he didn't need to. Her story, however, showed him that they lived practically polar opposite childhoods and it confirmed one thing for him; she had power. Enough power to even take over an unwilling being, if only she knew what true water elementals could do. "My father once told me, that born, blessed, or cursed, once we have our powers, it has become a part of who we are." Kyle looked to Grace "You had an accident, you lost control, it happens, and unfortunately those around you were unable to understand it." He remained quiet for a bit, choosing his next words carefully. "Grace, I'm sorry for what happened to you, but...don't be afraid of who you are and what powers you possess. You're a good person at heart, I can tell that and I have no reason to fear you, even with your level of power." He sipped at his tea again, he could tell stories to Grace about the times he's lost control of his powers, how he's nearly burned down more things than he could count. Kyle's face became somewhat sullen at the thoughts.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked at him in surprise. She had never really thought about it that, always assuming she had been afraid of other people. But maybe he was right, though he hadn't said it in so many words; maybe she was afraid of herself and her powers. Maybe that was why she shied away from so many people. However it was the last sentence that made her look up in surprise, her brow furrowed in confusion. However after a few moments she simply shook her head and tried to laugh it off. "My level of power? No. You must be mistaken." Her power was just like everyone else, only that it was water based rather than the other kids. She wasn't any more powerful than the next person. That made no sense. She was sure everyone got angry and lost control and had things happen they were never able to recreate, either by choice or simply because they were unable to. "I'm no more special than anyone else." She assured him, looking back down at her cup of tea and frowning again. Kyla had lived his entire life on his own anyway; he'd never had other people to compare to just like she had. How could he possibly know how powerful a person was or wasn't? Especially when he'd seen so little of her powers being used?</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He smirked slightly, "Grace, I think you underestimate yourself." While it was true that he had seen little display of her power, he just had this...feeling that she had more potential than she was letting on. Her story about controlling that one person proved at least that she had the potential, if nothing else, at least to Kyle, it didn't seem like a story anyone would just make up. Perhaps he was getting a bit ahead of himself though. He smiled and relaxed his posture a little, "I suppose it really doesn't matter right now though, how powerful we are, after all we're just students trying to learn, leave the heroics to the professionals right?"</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace smiled slightly at the boy's words and gave him a look. Exactly what kind of look she gave him she wasn't sure, but she supposed it didn't matter either way because he couldn't see her face. "Maybe I do…" The girl pondered aloud as she rubbed her finger on the cup in her hands, bringing it to her lips and sipping gently. He had her really thinking now. What if she was powerful? What would that even mean for her? She still wasn't sure what she wanted to do with her life. Being a super hero just seemed… too out of character for her. It didn't feel right. Did the magnitude of her power open up new opportunities for her? Turning back as Kyle spoke she smiled again, nodding slightly. "I suppose so…" She said, her voice clearly indicating that her thoughts were now on other things. "Do you know what you want to do with your life yet?" She asked eventually, turning back to look at him, thinking it was rude to just sit there quietly and not really add to the conversation. That and she wondered if maybe his answer may help her find some kind of direction in some way.</s>	<\|message\|>Kyle Parker Her aura spiked suddenly, confused he raised an eybrow, unsure of exactly what that was Grace had just...felt, done, anything. The good news though, he got her thinking, which was exactly what he was driving for, letting her take a deep long look at herself and think on things. It seemed though that whatever pondering she had was short lived and her mind wandered elsewhere. Her minimal responses suggested it before she asked him her question. "Do I know what I want to do with my life yet..." he thought on that, he had always lived in the present, never really dwelling on things that have happened or things that have yet to happen, that being said... "I've never really thought about what I've wanted to do with my life, I generally live in the here and now, but, to be honest, I think my father has... expectations of me, though I'm unsure of when he'll exactly share them with me. I honestly believe though that it has something to do with sending me to this school, up until now, I've never been in a social learning environment." This got him thinking though, "And what about you? I'm sure that's what you were thinking about before you asked me."</s>
<\|description\|>Kyle Parker Alias: N/A Age:16 Powers/limitations: Elemental Heritage (fire) -Naturally immune to fire attacks -Can naturally produce fire and heat using a mana source. -weak to water and cold attacks Curse of Rage -drastically increases fire abilities at the cost of succumbing to his fury. -curse is kept in check by magical seal created by his father. -severely drains mana source after use, long cool down. Appearance:</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker He understood the reference, it was one his father had used on him once before as well, though he could already tell that she wasn't completely into the idea. She told him what she really wanted to do, stereotypical, sure, but there were those who did just want a peaceful life, honestly, it was one he desired as well. "I think you should do what you want to do, what you feel is right. As I said, your powers are a part of you, whether you like it or not, however, I never said you needed to save people with them or be public and flashy with them. If raising a family is what you aspire to in life, then you should do so." He finished the rest of his tea before setting the mug aside and folding his arms, "As for me...well, I'm not so sure about kids, but, to live in such a peaceful existence," he breathed in, dwelling on the thought before letting it go, "I think I would enjoy it."</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace shrugged slightly. "Like I said I don't really know what I want to do yet. I'm sure I can't just leave school and start a family, so I think I'd have to find some kind of job in the mean time. I just can't think what it is I'd like to get up and do every day." She shrugged lightly once more as she listened to Kyle saying he wanted a peaceful life. It made her smile, knowing that someone else was content to join one of the more generic lifestyles even with their powers. It made her feel a little less odd, which was a nice change in a world like this. Finishing off her lunch and tea she sighed gently. "Luckily I have a lot of time to think about it I guess." She finally settled upon. "And who knows, by the end of school I might be an entirely different person than I am now. High school changes people." At least that's what she'd been told. "But… do you think doing something any person can do would be a waste of my powers?" She eventually asked, looking back to him. Certainly not everyone who has super powers becomes a super hero or does something with their powers… right?</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker "To waste your powers is only a part of a whole which is, in essence, to waste your life. To waste your life, is to not do the thing your heart most desires, but what I suppose I'm really saying is, you don't have to be a hero to do great things." Kyle sat back, wanting to let his words sink in. At this point in time, whatever she did with her life, Kyle didn't think he'd think any differently of her. Damn, he'd only known this girl for less than a day and already he couldn't help but imagine this bumbling and nervous Grace running around with a couple of small children, doing normal, everyday things. At the same time, he couldn't help but imagine wanting that kind of existence, to be this bumbling and nervous, but joyous and with a lot of heart, kind of creature. Grace was indeed an enigma, but he couldn't help but feel that she viewed him the same way.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked at him curiously, putting slightly as she thought about the words. Once again she found herself confused by the things he said, trying to find the answer to her question amongst the cryptic words. However it seemed like she had run out of time to think it over. The bell rung; a harsh, loud noise that broke her line of concentration. "We have those power classes now don't we?" She asked as she once again took out her book, the one she carried the sigil in, her school schedule stuck on the back as she looked it over, hoping she'd remember it eventually. The book itself was a journal of sorts, where she wrote down some of her inner most thoughts, she also tried to keep it strictly positive, so it usually helped to make her feel better when she was feeling down. "Yeah, theory followed by practical. Did you want to walk over with me?" She figured it only made sense, since they were already sitting together and were going to the same place. But she didn't want to make him feel like he had to either. Hopefully he didn't get sick of her hanging around him all the time like this.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker Grace seemed...almost put off, he wondered if maybe he hadn't given her an answer that maybe she wanted to hear. That being said, what Grace did with her life, wasn't really Kyle's concern and it definitely wasn't something he could dictate in just a few short sentences. Trying to figure out one's life, one's future, requires dedication, thought and a little bit of passion. He knew she'd figure out what she'd want to do with her life, just like eventually he'd have to figure out his. The sudden ringing of the bell brought him violently from his thoughts, if that was the sound he was going to have to suffer through high school with, it'd be a damn long 4 years. "We have those power classes now don't we?" she asked before flipping through a book and answering, "Yeah, theory followed by practical. Did you want to walk over with me?" There was a very subtle hint of concern in her voice, was she afraid he was going to say no or something? He smiled, saying, "Of course," he began to stand up, the initial roar of the students as they stood from their seats had begun to quiet down as they filed their way out of the cafeteria, "You lead, I'll follow." In this particular instance, it was good to have someone with sight, while he could easily attempt to navigate the halls on his own, it was more methodical, required more time. With Grace, her sight would be able to tell which room was which, far more quickly than if he rubbed his fingers over every single sign in front of every single door.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace smiled slightly when he agreed to walk with her. It was a really strange thing to think of, but Kyle's composed and collected approach to life had a very calming effect on her. It was like he just radiated tranquillity. She wondered, if she could see auras like he could what his would look like compared to everyone else. He certainly seemed to pick up on her mood changes easily enough, so she wondered if it was colour coded and if some had more powerful or bigger auras than others. She pondered over a lot of questions she had over auras as she led the way through the halls, making her way towards the rooms near the gym where the theory classes were held. She wasn't sure if she'd bother him with all her questions right now, some time maybe. However there was one that was pressing her more than any other and she just couldn't help herself. "Kyle?" She said as she walked to catch his attention. "Can anyone learn to read auras? Or do you have to be born with the ability or maybe you have to have something special to read them?" She supposed what she was really asking was if she could learn it with some training. Grace still wasn't sure if it was something she'd ever need in life, unable to think of situations where it would be useful except when faced with a loss of eyesight. But certainly Kyle would be able to tell her other places it may be useful. As they arrived at the classroom she quickly took one of the few remaining seats with an empty one next to it. It was all things they could talk about at another time she supposed.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker "Kyle?" She said as she walked to catch his attention. "Can anyone learn to read auras? Or do you have to be born with the ability or maybe you have to have something special to read them?" "Hm?" Maybe it was just from the tone of her voice or the sudden barrage of questions, but he had a feeling this was something that had been on her mind. Kyle had to admit, this was something that had been on his mind as well, ever since she revealed herself to be a form of water elemental, Kyle had been mulling over the possibility of her having a mana source. If she did, it'd require some time and patience, but she could have similar abilities to his own, and who knows, opening her mana source may even further increase her powers. As they took their seats, Grace seemed to realize the futility of having such a discussion right before their class. Kyle leaned over a little and said, "If you'd like to, we can stop by my place after school and we can talk it over there, because truthfully, you having magic, has been on my mind too." Then he calmly seated himself upright just as the emanating presence of Mr. Steele entered through the doorway; the final bell rang.</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace smiled slightly but then pouted as she thought about it. "Maybe tomorrow." She whispered quickly. "I'd have to ask my mum about it first." Her mother was slightly over protective of her, but she supposed it was well justified what with all the villains she fought threatening to get her and everyone she loved one day. The life of a hero she supposed. Still, even as Mr Steele began with his lecture on power theory her mind was more on Kyle's words, thinking them over. He thought she had magic? Why would he think that? What did it even mean? She knew some kids in the school had powers more orientated towards the mystical and the fantastic, but they had elemental powers. How did magic fit into all of this? "Alright class!" The sudden shout caused her to look up in alarm. "Now I don't think too much about all this theory stuff, in my opinion the best way is to get out there and practice the theory! So put your things away, we're going out to the sports courts early where we're going to reinforce the theory we've just covered with practical application." Grace sat there in shock. She'd completely missed the theory element all… ten minutes of it. She had no idea what she was supposed to be doing now.</s> <\|message\|>Kyle Parker The teacher began his lecture and, frankly, it was exactly what he expected it to be... "Now class, the school requires me to go over your power control and breathing exercises, written here in the first few chapters. I completely disagree, because you've been doing that since you were preschoolers!" The basic gist of the next ten minutes passing involves him completely skipping the aforementioned exercises and instead going over basic application of power control and manifestation. In other words, projecting your elemental power in the form of your elemental attack. Kyle's in this case happened to be projecting fireballs and other pyro based weapons and projectiles. He looked over to Grace, for her it'd be her water manipulation and whatever she could do with that. He looked to the class and felt their auras, most seemed a bit nervous, he was calm, surprisingly she was calm as well, that could be good. "Alright class!" Her aura suddenly spiked, and he figured he shouldn't have been too surprised by now. Mr. Steele then marched the class out of the room and towards the sports courts, Kyle stayed alongside Grace and lightly tapped her foot. "Everything alright?"</s> <\|message\|>Grace Whyte Grace looked over as Kyle tapped her foot and spoke softly to her and she nodded slightly. "I wasn't paying attention." She whispered softly back. "And 'practical application' has never been my strong suit." She quickly turned her attention back towards the front as Mr. Steele began speaking again. "First off we'll be splitting you guys into groups. From my experience, elementals are usually one of two classes, we have creators and manipulators. Creators can produce their element as will, but their control of it once produced is minimal. Manipulators are the opposite; they usually have control over their element, but are reliant on an existing source. Now, some of you fit into both of these categories, which is fine too. Some of you might find that as the year progresses you'll begin to develop your abilities in the other category. So, for starters we'll get you guys to group up. Creators here, manipulators there, anyone feeling like they fit into both over there." Grace gave Kyle a smile as she moved off into the manipulation group as Mr Steele went into an explanation of the next exercise. "See those machines down the other end of the court? We're going to be using those to shoot tennis balls at you. The aim is to simply use your powers, however you see fit, to stop them from hitting you. Before we begin, are there any manipulators who we may have trouble finding materials for you to use?" Grace looked around and then shook her head slowly, noticing everyone else was doing the same.</s>	<\|message\|>Kyle Parker He chuckled, that sounded like something she'd do for some reason. He just smiled and simply said, "I think you'll do find Grace." as they parted from each other into their respective groups. Kyle found himself home in the hybrid group, his mana source allowed him to create his fire, but it also allowed him to control it too, manipulating it many things, including the forms of animals if he so desired. "Before we begin, are there any manipulators who we may have trouble finding materials for you to use?" Kyle remained silent as everyone shook their heads, "Good! Then let's begin." He started calling from group members at random, consistently going in a creator, manipulator, hybrid pattern. As each student went up, it was pretty much what you expected from a group of elementals; hurling bolts, boulders and icicles. He did admit though there were some pretty impressive displays, there was one girl in particular who was using vines, he wasn't even sure where she got those. Even the group of bullies from earlier showed off their stuff...they seemed tough, they've had their share fair of practice. As students displayed their powers and applied it in the practical, Mr. Steele would eventually call them to stop and move off to a 'discard' group so to speak, and as the last student was 'discarded'. "Parker!" Guess it's time. He took his cane and folded it up hanging it in his belt loop, then reached up for his sunglasses and removed them, revealing his closed eyes; his bound eyes. Putting the shades in his pocket he stepped forward up to the plate and took a fighting stance, spreading his legs apart and crouching low, his left hand extended forward, palm out, his right, a closed fist centered at his core. Even before Mr. Steele announced the start, Kyle was already manifesting energy into his core and as the first ball launched forward, he thrust his closed fist in response and allowed the energy to flow from his core, into his arm and out of his fist in the form of a fireball. It lanuched itself forward and incinerated the tennis ball mid-air. The other machines began to fire, launching the tennis balls at him, some even causing the tennis balls to curve out and come at him from the side. Taking everything into account, observing his surroundings, memorizing every detail, he moved. The way his body flowed, it almost seemed like Kyle knew where the balls were flying in from. He would jump, spin, kick, chop and fire would leap, lunge, curl, curve and incinerate. The times he didn't launch fire, he'd allow his body to simply move around the incoming projectiles, until finally, everything went silent. Kyle straightened himself out, breathed in deeply, then exhaled before returning his sunglasses to his face and moving over to the 'discard' group.</s>